This afternoon I was driving to work listening to National Public Radio. The host of "The Story" was talking with a husband-and-wife research team who had done a study on what they called "reactant" behavior. As they explained it, people who are easygoing tend to allow others to make all the decisions and do what more forceful people tell them to do.
"Reactant" people, however, want to make the decisions and may want to do just the opposite of what they are told. These individuals also tend to get upset when they are unable to do things the way they want. Not only had the researchers studied this, but they were an opposite couple - a reactant husband and an easygoing wife.
As I listened, I thought that "reactant" sounded like a highfalutin word for "perversity" (though I realized later it isn't). I know I am often perverse. Tell me I have to do something a certain way and I generally think I know a better way (and I usually do). Or it may be something as simple as knowing we're low on milk and wanting a big glass of milk more than anything in the world.
In fact, I fit the example the husband gave of being asked to stop for milk on the way home from work and immediately thinking of a dozen reasons why he didn't want to do that. On the other hand, he went on to say that if instead of asking him to stop, his wife asked, "Do we need anything from the store?", he'd immediately say, "Oh, we need milk, I'll stop for it." I wouldn't do that. I still wouldn't want to stop.
Thinking about perversity led me to think about my current behavior, which is still what I wrote about clear back in December in Call Me Irresponsible. I'm still spending far too much time playing computer games. I worry occasionally about the fact that I'm not doing needed housework when I should, that I'm having to pay bills at the last minute (or late) because I put it off, that I still haven't started planning for this year's garden ... but that worry doesn't translate into doing anything to address the issues. I wondered if it was perversity that makes me say (subconsciously) that I won't do these things because I should do them.
And then it hit me - it's not perversity. I'm running away.
I'm playing games for hours because I'm running away from my mother. My mother, who tells me a dozen times a day that Copernicus spelled backwards is Sucinrepoc. My mother, who asks me five times a day to bring her a new brain and gets upset when I tell her they don't make new brains. She asks me, "What's for dinner?" ten times before I go to work. I tell her I'll make tuna melt all ten times, but when I come home she is getting ready to prepare frozen macaroni and cheese. (I'm tired. We have the mac and cheese.)
During dinner she starts in on, "What will we have for dinner tomorrow?" and then begins to tell me about Sucinrepoc, that Bacos backwards is Socab, that my name backwards is Aicram. She gets a huge laugh when I tell her that milk backwards is "klim." (I was thinking, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.)
One of our family's favorite things is to do variations on a punch line from a famous comedy routine from the 1950s by Nichols and May, "That's my son - the nurse!" Mom often pops out with things like, "My daughter, the cook!" when I make a meal, or "my daughter, the doctor!" when I give her her pills - even "my daughter, the garbage man!"
This evening I started to tear off some Saran wrap from the box and as usual couldn't do it. (I have no idea why I find it so difficult, but I do.) I handed the box to her saying, "Why can't I do this and you do it so easily?" She quickly tore off what was needed and handed me the box. Then she said, "My daughter - " then changed to, "My mother, the ripper!" But what I heard was, "My daughter, my mother!"
And that, I realized, is the core of the issue. I am my mother's mother now - and I hate it. I'm playing games because I want to be a child, not a mother.
One of the interviewer's last questions to the researchers on "The Story" was whether knowing you were a reactant person could help you change, to become less domineering or less likely to have an automatic negative reaction to certain triggers. They more or less agreed that knowing why you behave a certain way is the critical first step to changing the behavior. I knew this, but it's something one has to hear again (and again) at just the right time for it to have an impact.
I don't mean that having bipolar depression has nothing to do with it. But even though my behavior points to depression - especially leaving the clutter to pile up to epic proportions, avoiding phone calls and not paying the bills - I honestly feel that my medications are working pretty well these days. I think without them I'd be completely unable to have patience with Mom, and that would be very bad.
So now that I know why I'm behaving this way, maybe - even though she will ask me again tonight if it's okay for her to have milk and bologna at bedtime (she's been having it every night for years), even though tomorrow she'll ask me what day it is ten times (sometimes three times in three minutes) - maybe I can start being responsible again.
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