So here's what I'm wondering. If you are nice to someone consistently over a long period of time when you really don't want to be that nice, does that make you a nice person or a complete hypocrite?
For example, I was nice to my mother for years whilst disliking her and being terrified of her in equal measure. I was seldom honest with her about my life and my feelings. Am I a nice person or a hypocrite? Was it better for her to die with the lie that I cared about her? Or should I have been honest? In essentially lying to her for decades, did I unfairly deprive her of information she could have used to become less hateful?
Sometimes it is impossible to be nice and honest.
I sincerely believe she had narcissistic personality disorder so personal growth wasn't in the cards for her, but was that my decision to make?
I was nice to her even when she was hateful ("you've never cared about anyone but yourself") because it was easier than calling her on her vitriol. I was protecting myself, but is that a legitimate reason to lie?
I spent a metric ton of emotional capital on doing the right thing by my parents so I never had to feel guilty, and I am not at all sure it was worth it. I'm still so emotionally worn out. Of course, I did just have my right tit cut off and you really wouldn't believe how ugly this thang looks -- it makes the other thang look positively ready for Playboy. I suspect that plays into my fatigue but don't see much I can do about it. I am going to go into the plastic surgeon this week to have them take a look and tell me this is what it is supposed to look like. Beyond that, it seems to me it is what it is and there isn't a whole lot I can do about it.
John shot himself 25 months ago and since then it has been one thing after another, each trauma quick on the heels of the last. Maybe I'm expecting too much of myself. I'm not depressed, but I am tired and I wish my husband would cut me a little slack. I don't think he has a clue what a beating this has been.