Me in the Middle

I am a middle child. 

A really, really middle child. 

Three older siblings all born two years apart, then 4 1/2 years to me.  Then another 3 1/2 years to my younger siblings who are only 14 months apart. 

See? 

Middle Child.

In the early 90s when I was struggling with situations in my family of origin I came across John Bradshaw's  work on Family Systems. 

The middle child.  The peacemaker. 

Yup. 

A couple of weeks ago I wrote down all the times I was 'in the middle' of family dramas. I counted eleven. I few of them I felt directly responsible for because I was the catalyst for the disagreement.  Or, at least, I thought I was. I have since come to realize that being a catalyst is not the same thing as being one of the two substances that react with each other. Often to explosive results.

Yesterday I had an epiphany. 

I wasn't in the middle by nature.  I put myself in the middle.  I took it upon myself to be a mediator, or a peace maker, or a conduit, or the one at fault.

I sometimes tried to intervene.  I sometimes tried to mediate.  I sometimes prayed for reconciliation. I often took on all the blame.

All because of my own issues with confrontation and discord. 

I want everyone to get along. I want everyone to be happy.  I want to put my hands over my ears and sing 'la la la' to block out the anger, or sadness, or disappointment. 

I wanted my family to be like the Hallmark movie of the week. Everyone around the table at Thanksgiving saying heartfelt and kind things to each other. 

I put myself there. 

Only once have I ever been asked to pass a message along from one person who was not speaking to another.  Ironically I didn't.

Once I believed a lie one person told me about another.  It made me suspicious, but still anxious that somehow it was all my fault.

I have though, repeatedly through my life, not told someone what I was doing, or who I was doing it with, if it involved mentioning someone they were in conflict with.  This has happened too with friendships where I was good friends with two people who were not friendly with each other.

I silenced myself to spare the feelings of another.  I hid parts of myself so as not to cause pain.

I believe this behaviour, in part, contributed to my struggle with depression.

I denied my experiences, my loves, my stories so as not to rock the boat. 

One example of my co-dependent behaviour.  There are others, but I am here at the moment.

Me in the Middle. 

Working with this.  Realizing that others are resilient enough to deal with their feelings and their relationships and I don't have to fix them. 

It isn't my job. 

As I often tell others (I am so wise when talking to others). 

Not my circus.  Not my monkeys. 

Pay attention Me. 

Not your circus.  Not your monkeys.