My Parents - Not Good in a Crisis

I love my parents and feel blessed to have them. But if I am ever hurt, or need help, they are the last people I call. Why? It's simple, they are freaks when it comes to their children being hurt. My mother cannot handle it, you know the saying "fight or flight" well, my mom chooses flight. My niece, Brittany, choked on a Fruit Roll-Up at my moms house. My mom flew from the room. My sister, Gina, calmly walked over, gave Britt the Heimlich. She barfed up the fruit roll up on the first thrust. My mom was still in her bedroom when it was all over. So if you ever choke alone in a room with my mom, you're screwed.

My father, on the other hand, will help his kids, but once the crisis is over he flies into a rage. It doesn't even have to be a crisis...it can be as simple as a bump on the head, this was enough to make him fly off the handle. How dare something hurt his child! He's been known to punch objects or even himself --remember the "weird mode" yeah, this is part of it.

When I was 5 years old, I slammed my thumb in the screen door. I started wailing, holding my poor little thumb up in the air. My dad came out to save me. My mom followed far behind him. "What happened" he asked. Still sobbing I said, "I was coming in the house, the wind blew the door shut on my thumb". That was it, my father started swearing under his breath, he was so mad he punched the screen door. This haulted my crying in mid-wail. He went outside, kicking at the ground like a manic. Still in a rage, he lashed out at the nearest thing, which was my beloved swing set with the big orange flowers. In one big shove, Dad tipped my swing set over and it smashed to the ground. This brought back the flood of tears, "WHY IS DADDY HURTING MY SWING SET!!!" I yelled to my mom. She was only too happy to answer "Because he's an asshole, that's why!" Mom fixed my thumb with Vicks Vapor Rub...heheheheeeee just kidding.

A few years ago I was going through a divorce. I guess the changes and uncertainty of everything got to me, and for the first time in my life I started having panic attacks. These things are scary, you actually feel like you're dieing. My heart felt like it was going to pound right out of my chest, my arms would go numb, my tongue would feel like it was swelling...just horrible to go through. My attacks would happen mostly at night, sometimes waking me up from a sound sleep. During one of my episodes, I called my mom. I needed to hear some calming words, some reassurance that I was fine. Hear's how the conversation went.

Me - "Mom, I'm having a panic attack, I think I'm having a heart attack.

Mom - "NO you're not...YOU'RE FINE. I'm telling you, damn it...my life...I'm ready to take the bridge, there's always something I have to worry about... where's the kids...just go to sleep Lori, you're fine...Jeeeeesus Christ...I'm telling you...it's always something... do you want your father to come over...or you can come here...damn it...are the kids sleeping...unbelieveable I have to go thru this...the doctor said you're fine...

Believe it or not, this worked. She calmed me down. This is my mom, she cares about everyone and worries about everyone, but she has to complain about it, it's all just words, she would die for any one of us. We all know this of her. If she was sweet and compassionate, my panic would have escalated, I would have thought something was wrong and I really was dieing. My mom calmed me down by being "my mom".

But let the record show, I never called her again. I started calling my poor sister Mary Beth. Mary Beth works in the nurses office at the school, so she's more medical. Eventually the panic stopped, and now everyone gets a good nights sleep.