weary and watery: family histrionics

Had a funny conversation this morning with ** about evil grandmothers. It was funny to talk about the family to someone I don't know, and someone who doesn't know them. It all seemed/sounded rather dramatic, like some poignant suburban tale of childhood abuse and misery. It is mundane though. Those conversations I had with Ruth (am I using her name rather than initials becuase she is dead???) about my mother allowed me to reconsider the power dynamic between us. Once she came with me to see Ruth, and the look on her face was appaling and terrifying. She behaved like a fucking brick wall, and Ruth and I talked about having to accept her inability to talk about anything emotional. Reminds me of a line from a KH song; "...it's not my fault you don't love me..."

Have you ever seen yourself when you weren't expecting to? Sometimes I accidentally look in the mirror when I go into the bathroom, and I feel hurt, because I only wanted to go to the toilet, and didn't want to look at myself. There are times when I look like a greasy spectre, or where I look like I smell bad. When you are expecting to see yourself, you shape your face into something you imagine to be appealing, something you could present to other people. When I am not expecting to see myself, I realise that my face is set hard against intrusion.