This is a cross post from my personal diary blog titled ‘Welcome To My Cell’, it focuses on psychological issues and things of that nature, like my agoraphobia, ptsd, ocd and so forth. This is a post that started as a brief snip for FB, but i cut it and pasted it and expanded it into a four page window into my head (lot longer than i anticipated, apologies for the length, you know how long winded I can be)…anyway, here’s the cross post. Later I have an update to issue, so stay tuned 😉 you know you wanna hear about it.
Our Parents, Ourselves-
ya know how when you’re a teen, and your parents piss you off & you vow that you’ll never EVER turn into them…and how it always, inevitably happens…and then when you realize it, it depresses the holy living hell out of you?
yeah, I’ve been going through that a lot lately…i see so much of my mother’s mannerisms (and worse yet, my grandmothers 😦 why did the people who shaped my personality in my formative years have to SUCK SO BAD???) in myself, especially when I’m under chronic stress & pressure, its been depressing the shit out of me…I’m not her, but…well, you know how it goes…raise your hand if you can clearly see the stamp of those who raised you in your formative years on your personality…(that should be most-all of you :P)…sometimes thats a good thing, sometimes its a bad thing, depends on who your folks were.
When I have bouts like this I try really, REALLY hard to think of the positive qualities these women had, few & far between though they were. Grandmother could balance a check book like no other, down to the penny (depression era spending habits will do that), and was a pretty decent business woman. She taught me to cook & clean & bake and how to ‘take care of your man’ (translation, she raised me w/the expectation that I would grow up to act & look like June Cleaver 😛 yeah…that didn’t happen). I learned how to run a far & care for animals & such and the importance of good, strong work ethic. My mother was a very talented artist, though she very rarely chose to polish or display such talents, I believe that stems from grandmother’s jealousy that mother was a better sketch artist than she was & so grandmother liked to trod on mother’s talent (not unlike how my mother chose to trod on mine because I’m a significantly more multifaceted artist than her. I not only could draw, but i could paint, sculpt, knit, sew, design patterns, make jewelry and so much more…check out the store to see how far I’ve come because I’m even better now that I used to be, the psych meds were a huge handicap on my abilities). My mother generally didn’t give up, I get my stubbornness from her (my father too, but mostly from her because I was actually raised around her, i get my temper from my father…at least I’m not a fucking abusive alcoholic pedo and never will be…thats my father in a nutshell & i was his choice scape goat, reason number 10469 why I’m so fucking fucked up mentally…schizophrenia running in both sides of the family does NOT help…the temper is largely an Irish thing though, hot blooded & quick to anger)…she didn’t seem to give up until she started working for walmart, that crushed her spirit, color me unsurprised it does that to all of us who’ve had to work there, thankfully I was only there three and a half years on & off mostly as seasonal temp help. I blame walmart for turning my mother republican, conservative and significantly more stupid than she had previously been (it brainwashes you, i WISH i were kidding…seriously, go apply and go through the training process, its all rah rah company, don’t diss your team, etc etc…its really 1984 esque and really REALLY creepy…i had to sit through it at least four times for orientation because even if you’re a prior hire they will NOT let you skip it).
Um…really those are the good points i can think of off hand…I’m trying, really i am.
She wasn’t a boozer like my biological father was, and I would say thats a point in her favor, except she was addicted to caffeine, cigarettes and diet pills, so she was always going up or coming down off something and it lead to LOTS and LOTS of meth-rage. She openly blamed me for the problems of our household family, and sometimes…often…for the collective tension problems between her & my grandmother because i was ‘a bad seed’ (and yeah, thats verbatim one of the phrases that was used to describe me, while i was in the room often no less *sigh* have i mentioned i do NOT miss these people?), and especially for the tensions between aunt Teena & her…i don’t believe in lying to kids and so when my younger cousins would ask about things like what you learn in middle school health (like what a period is…or ‘why mommy wears diapers in her panties once a month?’ and that sort of life FACT that they deserve to know…we were a Catholic family you see, VERY Catholic, and they didn’t like talking about such things EVER, even when the girls finally got theirs, its appalling how they’re willing to send people out into the world so under prepared just because ‘thats how WE were sent out, why should they know any different or better?’…that was one of the explanations i was given when i asked why i wasn’t to speak of such things)…anyway, I got blamed for the problems, nearly all of them (sorry to whine but yeah, it takes its toll).
we’re short on money, its YOUR FAULT LITTLE T!! (never mind that you COULD cut back on your smoking and save about $100 a week minimum, i sat down and did the math when i was in high school and learning budgeting in careers, yeah, they didn’t appreciate my input…or we could have cut cable or other luxuries, but NOPE, MY FAULT!). theres no food in the house, its YOUR FAULT LIL T!! never mind that my two older brothers (you can see them in this photo post on my other blog Vitamin Gay, they’re the two huge guys behind myself & Blaine) were MASSIVE and while i will cop to being over weight at the time for sure, i was also frequently battling w/anorexia and thusly was frequently starving myself (whether it showed physically or not varied on how long i had been going for), so yeah…TOTALLY my fault ya see. the cats used your brothers room for a litter box, ITS YOUR FAULT T! never mind that it was HIS chore to clean the box, but like all the other chores, they some how got pilled on me w/out apology and these days i just take on extra tasks because they need doing and i was raised w/the ideal that ‘if a task needs done, do it and do it right the first time so you don’t have to do it AGAIN’ but this some how NEVER took w/my brothers (i’d say I’m surprised, but they didn’t have it beat into their heads the same way i did)…
You see where I’m going with this though, i don’t like to think about it regularly but life growing up was REALLY hellish, i spent 95% of my time trying to escape and the other 5% at school…I’d escape through any means possible, walking my many dogs & helping them get re socialized for adoption (the ones who were taken in strays, we were a humane society halfway house for strays, i was the primary trainer), just wandering off w/out saying anything was my preferred method (but that tended to get me in trouble a lot) but we lived on a huge, mostly empty hill on the outskirts of town, i’d just wander off into the fields or the ravine and just sit and stare at the town & the mountains and dream about getting away some day, spent most of those days dreaming about the big apple, certain I’d end up there married to a crazy Italian artist and/or poet LOL, we’d live in a tiny loft/studio flat & I’d wait tables at his families restaurant where he was one of the chefs & I’d act in bit parts in random plays while i focused on writing novels & painting landscapes of countries I’d probably never see. It didn’t happen, but it didn’t and doesn’t matter, it was the dream that got me through all that horribleness, all those awful, gut wrenching times where i just wanted to crawl under a rock and die because i was so sure it would never ever get better…if i had been stronger I would have run away age 17 after this one particularly nasty bout i’d had w/my family, but they had done their work well, and crippled me so badly emotionally that i literally couldn’t survive on my own. I have never lived alone and never will, even when i first got to Portland & was technically living in a garage in Aloha, i was actually sleeping over here on the SE side at my friend Sam’s flat (right near where i live now, i liked it here and wanted to move to this area of town ever since i got here) because i couldn’t stand the fact that the roommates i had were 1- TOTAL jerks and 2- never home, so i was alone and i just couldn’t cope with it.
Trouble is that even though I’m away, and I’ve been healing and I’ve put four years no contact worth of distance between my and my awful family & past in Pendleton, their voices haunt me still…I was laying in bed last night trying to get to sleep and my thoughts when something along these lines…
Me- *sigh* I’m just like my mother, quick to anger, irritable, insane, etc. this is just awful and seriously depressing…at least I’m not a psycho bitch
Her voice- yes you are, fairly often
Me- *grrrr* well at least I’m not a control freak
her voice- are to
Me- at least i’m not an angry & abusive parent
Her voice- you are too
Me- FUCK YOU! least i’m not emotionally manipulative of those around me because i don’t like myself…
her voice- yeah, you are…
Me- well at least i don’t try and control others lives and get mad when they don’t let me
her voice- you do that too
Me- Well…at least I’m not an addict who self medicates to escape the guilt i feel over being such a whack job…
Her voice- you do that too…face it, I made you in my image the same way my mother did. you’re so much like me you might as well be me…
Me- seriously, why the fuck can’t i just get rid of you ??? no matter how long its been or how much time or distance i’ve put between myself and YOU, you are STILL HERE TORMENTING ME, why wont you leave me alone???
Me- oh yeah, now you’re silent 😥 *cries to sleep*
*sigh* I try not to be too hard on myself because much (most) of my damage is not my fault, its nothing i did to myself and its not something i went looking for, it was dumped on me like all those sacks of laundry back in the day, and i was told to wash, sort, fold and file it all, NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW, but i wasn’t given equipment, soap or the instructions…actually a pretty fitting analogy actually thinking about it…
in truth that she and her voice in my head CAN NOT contradict-
At least I take responsibility when I fuck up!
At least I admit when I’m wrong!
At least I apologize when I have wronged and/or hurt someone!
At least I communicate with and genuinely CARE about my spouse!
At least I feel GUILT when I fuck up and/or have hurt someone, unlike you you damn sociopath bitch cow!
AND, above ALL
AT LEAST I ACKNOWLEDGE MY DAMAGED & BROKEN STATE OF MENTAL HEALTH AND AM SEEKING TO HEAL IT TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY, AT LEAST I AM ACTIVELY ASKING FOR HELP AND WILLING TO COP TO THE FACT THAT I NEED SUCH HELP!
This is what gets me through these bouts w/the similarities in my mother’s personality and my own…I’m not her and on so many levels I am far & away a much MUCH better person than she is or could ever hope to be, I try to let that comfort me. Its still hard and it still makes me cry and gets me horrifically depressed when i think about it too much, which has been a lot lately unfortunately. I’ll muddle through some how, I seemingly always do.
thanks for listening/reading, this was a much longer entry than anticipated. I will TRY to shoot an unedited Vlog sometime soon, i’ve got a better camera which i got in March w/some of my wedding garb commission, a necesary business expense/birthday present for myself (more useful than but not as cool as a tattoo, someday i will have ink 😦 but not today), and the video is crisp & sharp, its HD so yeah, shiny :). anyway, i’m off to perk myself up with a bowl and then I am off to make a fresh batch of pastry cream (the batch i made yesterday didn’t turn out right because I 1- mixed the cornstarch w/the sugar & then added the yolks…it goes yolks+sugar, whisk until slightly transparent THEN add the starch…and 2- i accidentally scalded the egg mixture slightly 😛 it happens…now we know) and then later, crepes soufflé 😀 never made crepes or a soufflé anything before, so fun fun fun, wish me luck (cooking something new is a wonderful way to cheer up, it usually does the trick for me…unless I’m extra depressed, but this should help me today).