Preface
My feelings are hurt and I am angry. The logical
part of my mind understands that my current feelings might or might not be
proportionate to the situation. The emotional part of me does not care and only
understands that a purge is vital. That makes this blog both jaded and
essential.
I would also like to acknowledge that while topically my
story appears to be fraught with first world problems, the issues of love and
acceptance and rejection and fear and hurt and pride and healing are universal.
Family
In my family you keep your feelings behind closed
doors. Stoicism is strength and you
should wear it with grace. You smile, you pretend, you suffer in silence and
then have the audacity to think that that makes you a better person. For that
reason this blog feels wrong, like a betrayal of trust.
Still my story is not their story and I get to choose my own
path. Writing is my catharsis and if my
family insists on inflicting wounds it is up to me to heal me. Which is what this is really about, healing.
So let’s get on with it.
Black sheep. I don’t
know that in my family I am a black sheep.
On the contrary growing up I was spoiled. I am the youngest daughter of four- girl,
boy, girl (me), boy. It was an awesome
place to me situated. I wasn’t the baby
so my older siblings didn’t resent me but I also had no real accountability or
responsibility. I was described as agreeable and shy which made me likeable and
deemed worthy of protection by my siblings. My Mom married my Dad when I was 2.
He is my father and I his daughter.
It’s funny; depending on my mood I can either tell a story
of a charmed childhood or one that’s colored in the blackest parts of
life. Both would be true. It’s like my
childhood has multiple personalities. For tonight though that’s just the
backdrop.
Around age 17 my parents began a long and nasty divorce, my
older brother joined a gang and went to jail, and my sister married a man my mothers
age. **Which meant that my Mom was
really really mean (I mean horrific); my Dad was as available as the situation
would allow (but given that we weren’t blood related that wasn’t much); my older
brother was alien to me (and stupid by my count); and my sister pretty much
disappeared under a dictatorial husband (week 1 he made her get rid of all of
her clothes “too young looking” and I could no longer call her by her nick
name. The sister I knew died.)** My
world fell apart. So much so that I
developed an ulcer and didn’t tell my parents. The doctor told me I needed to
“alleviate my stress” so I moved out. –Side note I felt bad about leaving my
little brother but he had the good sense to move in with our Dad.
I loved living on my own. I had a job that allowed me to
support myself and I had my best friend. She became my family. We both realized that when our families
started being mean all we had to do was not pick up the phone/ answer the door/
go and visit. All of a sudden it was my
choice how much of the crazy I had to deal with. I absolutely loved it.
It was about that time that I fell out of favor with my
family. Their main complaint being that,
“Whenever we start to say something that you don’t want to hear you hang
up.” Yeah, well- duh! They had no rights in my book anymore because
when the rubber hit the road they had all turned on each other. I wanted no
part of that.
Through the years our relationships have been a roller
coaster. I get frustrated because I often times feel that they are mean and
petty. In my job I see terrible stories and it has fundamentally shifted my
perspective. Who cares if your son left
the stove is dirty when I just admitted a 9 year old to the hospital for trying
to silence the voices in his head by putting it through a wall? Life is too big
for mean. Real monsters exist.
Currently my brother, his wife, and their three kids are
living with my mom. To be totally
transparent I don’t know why. I don’t
want to know. I know that living with my Mom is hell. I know that I choose to marry a jobless,
adulterous, pothead-ed, degenerate to help me get my kids through the first few
years of their lives as opposed to moving back home. I know that I don’t want to be involved with
whatever is happening at my mom’s house right now.
My sister, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity to ingratiate
herself with my older brother and his wife while also being the shoulder that
my mom could complain to. The whole thing is plain silly for so many reasons.
Somehow I have ended up in the hot seat over the situation.
Since they aren’t speaking to me (my mom and sister that is) this is pure
conjecture on my part but I think it’s because I refuse to choose sides. I
won’t indulge my sister in any gossip about my brother and I’ve apparently
abandoned my mom in her time of “need.” Crazy right? Seriously.
Smh. I really don’t get this level of petty. And even in my blog- my echo, I won’t dignify
the degrees to which it makes no sense. But man does it feel good to put that
in print. That it is senseless.
The Silver Lining-
Because I’m a joy kinda girl, I’ve made a happy out of all
of this. Since Kristi I have understood that family, in the best of times, is
whom you choose. I have chosen a wonderful cast of characters to be my
family. I have moms and sisters and
brothers that are ride or die. (No dad replacement- somehow my dad refused to
leave my side even when he couldn’t be at my side. Prime example- I was telling
him about a gala I was throwing and he asked why my mom and sister weren’t
going to be there, then without a pause said, “Aaahhh forget ‘em. Your aren’t doing this for them, you’re doing
it for you right?” Perfect Dad words.)
I’ve crafted deep friendships too. The kind that know
without words what you need and are always just down. At said party the other day only my little
brother came- which meant the world given that he shuns family drama too. Even
still I had a mom and a close friend come early so that I could go get dressed.
I had 60 of some of my closest friends show up and dance all night. I had a
brother stay and help me load the U-Haul and mop. I had my own little people
who “All for 1ed” me at the beginning of the day. I had a sister show up after
work just to take the little people home and make sure I didn’t “need”
anything. And I had a group of friends
that stayed for the late night Frisbee after-party. It’s a charmed life.
I guess in retrospect I can’t really complain about my
family. I can complain about my blood
relatives but not about my family. You can’t pick your blood. I just needed to
say aloud that they are nuts but that doesn’t have to define who I am.
I will love. I will
laugh. I will hold deeply in my heart
those who have earned a right to be there.
I will daily strive to be a better human- the kind that thrives on
giving and helping and sees virtue in being kind. My blood relatives will be
the undeserving recipients of the love and patience taught to me by my
family. I’ll Wendy them all to death.
That’s who I am. That’s whom I’ve chosen to be. I choose love. It’s a new dawn,
it’s a new day, it’s a new way for me.
And I’m feeling good. ;)
-Dewb
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