Frustrating telephone conversation

I'm not seeking advice or sympathy, I just need to vent and let off some steam...

During the past week, my mother has been phoning me daily. I answered a call from her on Monday, which resulted (as usual) in my brain feeling well and truly fried by the end of her usual lengthy monologue about this, that, and God knows what else. As I needed PLENTY of time to recover, I had been letting my answer machine deal with her calls, right up until today when I decided that I should probably answer.

My mother was venting and wanted my opinion on the lengthy list of things she had been venting about. If truth be told, I think she was just wanting an echo chamber. Anyway, if she had spoken about each thing one at a time, it might not have been so bad, but she had left it until the end of a 30-minute (approximately) monologue to ask me for my thoughts on everything she had said.

I have tried to explain tactfully to my suspected autistic mother in the past how my autism affects me, but she just cannot seem to grasp it. Her twin sister (suspected autistic) also has difficulties trying to converse with my mother, and I know they are prone to their fair share of squabbles and misunderstandings too. My mother says she wants a two-way conversation, but by the time she finishes her monologue, we've switched off and forgotten most of what she's said.

My mother likes to hear a human voice and prefers verbal conversations, but when it comes to communicating with my mother, I find text-based conversations considerably easier. Anyway, after politely trying to explain to my mother why I was unable to provide her with a two-way conversation, she took it rather personally. Frustrated by the thought that my mother will never understand why I find verbal conversations with her so utterly mentally draining, when she said she might as well end the call because it was a waste of time talking to me, I abruptly ended the call without even bothering to say, "Goodbye".

Because of the mood my mother was in, I know that she's now likely to be feeling like everyone is out to attack her, and will be even more wound up than she was before she phoned me. In hindsight, I should not have answered that call, especially as I knew before I answered that I wasn't really in the right headspace due to other things weighing on my mind. It is said that we live and learn from our experiences, but in my case, I'm starting to question that.

All I can say is that I am thankful I inherited my dad's sense of humour. Once I've had time to calm down, I know that I'll probably be laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. To be honest, I feel sure that my dad is in his other-worldly place laughing his head off, thinking that my mother and I are just as bad as each other. Laughing

Parents
  • Hi, we have spoken about a similar situation before but it gets no easier. I’ve tried to explain to my mother that it’s not that I won’t answer a call it’s that I can’t. I have tried to explain how autism affects me and just can’t be verbal at times. Every call is like ground hog day. My wife looks at social media and sees posts my mother has put on about loving and talking to a parent while you can as one day they won’t be here. I then feel guilty. I really don’t know what the answer is.

Reply
  • Hi, we have spoken about a similar situation before but it gets no easier. I’ve tried to explain to my mother that it’s not that I won’t answer a call it’s that I can’t. I have tried to explain how autism affects me and just can’t be verbal at times. Every call is like ground hog day. My wife looks at social media and sees posts my mother has put on about loving and talking to a parent while you can as one day they won’t be here. I then feel guilty. I really don’t know what the answer is.

Children
  • Inadvertently she is causing you to trigger relapse with every skirmish at reconciliation. Perhaps your wife or a sibling can act as an intermediary between to two of you?

    I have the same issue with my grandmother, in my heart I am over it, but every time she calls or tries to interact with me, I relapse and feel as betrayed as the moment I closed myself off.
    I have a wave of rigidity and extremity, to the degree of unhealth, that it took to get to the point of meltdown with her. I then plant I string of unattainable-thresholds in front of closure that will never be reachable.  
    At this point, I believe that she would have to muster up a positive-action that is novel enough to fly over my defences, and my defences are too high these days, they block out the daylight.  I’ve been enlightened to a degree of negative-intuition that most can’t even understand as reality.

    So yeah, maybe you just need to have someone blind you to the process of recovery, so that you have a chance of failing to intercept an incoming ray of daylight.

  • Yes, you're right Roy. We have indeed shared some of our experiences with our respective mothers. You're also right in saying that it doesn't get any easier.

    The ability to be verbal isn't something that I've ever really had a problem with, so you have my sympathies. In my case, it's more the case that I'm just not in the mood to converse and listen to my mother. It's become something of a long-standing joke within the wider family that when something fairly significant happens in my life, my mother is often the last person to be told. In addition, she will seldom be given all the details, unlike everyone else.

    I do consider it a shame that your mother is unable to understand that it's not that you won't answer her calls, it's that you can't. Forgive me if you have previously told me the answer to this, but have you tried explaining to her in a letter (or text-based equivalent) how your autism affects you?

    Although I can understand your feelings of guilt when your mother posts those things on social media, you shouldn't feel guilty. It's not like you are ignoring her calls in order to intentionally hurt her and be cruel. I can only imagine how upsetting and frustrating it must be for both you and your wife when you stumble across yet another one of your mother's social media posts.