Sometimes, life is a fucking bitch

I keep trying to talk myself out of this.... separation with my mother. I know it's important and for the best, but I keep realizing that there are moments I'm going to miss out on and things I will never see again. I will still be able to see my grandma, but someday, when she dies, I won't be able to go to her funeral. If either of my brothers marry or have more children, I won't be there. Family reunions, not that I've been to any in recent history, are off limits too.

I remind myself that my immediate family wasn't really interested in me and that the love I have felt and extended, far exceeds anything I've received in return. How the hell does that work? I was asked today, why do [I] think that no one likes [me]. For the first time, I found a reasonable response. My family, the people who are supposed to love me regardless of anything (they don't have to like what I do or say, but they should at least love me), has never even liked me, so why should anyone else? I've been told, through actions, implications, and sometimes direct words, that I am an inconvenience, unimportant and unloveable ever since I was small. I've stated before that I believe I was conceived in an effort to repair my parents' floundering relationship and when that didn't work, I was given the blame. It's part of why I'm scared to have another child. I want one with every ounce of my body, but I don't know if it's a practical decision. I want it to be, but I don't want to risk becoming my mother. I know I have the ability to control that and perhaps this is the easiest and best way to do it.

I know this has been rather haphazard. Unfortunately, it's where my brain is now. It's like tipping over a bookshelf or a toy box. I'm trying to find order and reason in chaos and it's not working. *sigh*

In which I admit all and walk away from my mother

I got married last month. It's not legally binding because my state wouldn't recognize it anyways. It was beautiful and I could not have asked for a better day for it. I was beautiful. Sara was beautiful and we and Liam cried tears of happiness and excitement. It was awesome. I thought this would make a lovely preface for what is likely to be a rather upsetting post.

I was an abused and neglected child. I didn't even realize it until this past September, when someone pointed out to me that my mother is a narcissist. Outwardly, our family is wonderful. My mother is a triumphant single mother who raised three children on her own. We make a point not to share the family secrets and to hide the cracks in the veneer. But things were not as great as we put on.

I was a happy child, but somewhere along the road that changed. I became depressed. I felt like I was worthless, fat, ugly and horrible and that was before I hit puberty. Looking back, my mother put a lot of pressure on me to look a certain way. She used to tell me she used to be fat too. I later found out that at her heaviest she was around 135 lbs. At my lightest, I was 145 lbs. So, there's that. I wanted to please her, so I joined her on her one meal a day diet. I immediately went to my room afterwards and exercised it off through sit ups, leg lifts, planking, push ups and anything else I could imagine to get those calories off of my fat ass. When I went away to college, it took me three months to start managing another meal without feeling guilty.

When I entered adolescence, my, now diagnosed, mental illness started to make life unbearable. I became enormously depressed and, because my mother was never around, I relied on my friends to help me through. My mother first got a job that required a great deal of travel, so she got an old co-worker to check on my brother and me once a day. Then after my grandpa died she moved up to her new job and left us behind during the week. It was nice of her to let me finish out the school year, but I still felt abandoned. I grew up a lot during those months and when I moved back in with her, there was a lot of fighting because I wasn't willing to give up my freedom. Eventually, I just gave in because I didn't want to fight anymore. I asked her once to go see a therapist to deal with the crippling depression and was told "You don't need therapy. What can you tell a therapist that you can't tell me? If anyone in this house needs therapy, it's your brother". In middle school, when she got called into the guidance office because the counselor was worried I was suicidal, my mother was outwardly concerned. When we got home she angrily asked "So, do I have to put you on suicide watch now?" There are days I wish I had gone through with it. I was always an inconvenience. Later, when I became an adult I was hospitalized twice for suicidal behavior. The first time she was upset because she felt Liam was being hurt by it. The second time, it was at an inconvenient time for her. *sigh*

I wish I could say it was always bad because it would make everything easier to take, but there were genuinely good moments. When I first got my period, she was kind, understanding and caring. She took me out of school for a grown up girls day and we shopped and had lunch and it was fun. She took me to my first opera and occasionally we would go see plays together. But these were moments. Everyday life was unbearable and for years I have felt guilty for hating her and have been trying to fix the situation. I wanted a real mom who was proud of me for my accomplishments instead of trying to make them about her.

My wedding was the last straw though. The ceremony was fine. She behaved very well, but once pictures started, it became about her. A friend offered to take professional pictures and they turned out beautifully. I asked my mother to help with pictures so we could get some candids that were fun. *sigh* She pouted and got angry and as soon as she could get me alone, she told me how "that girl" had shoved her out of taking photos. I didn't want to fight and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell my friend to stop taking photos. I avoided two more arguments that evening. The next day, she picked the worst fight we've had ever. The last time we had a fight that even came even somewhat close was in 2005, but this one left them all behind. I would post all the gory details, but they aren't important. I said things I'd been wanting to say and she denied everything before screaming false apologies at me. I began sobbing and apologizing for everything I could think of. For being born, for not being a boy, for not being good enough, etc. I hadn't planned on getting into it with her. I'd been avoiding this argument for months and she finally got the fight she was looking for. We went on our honeymoon after taking a little time to regroup and after Liam was picked up when it was over, I let her know that I was done. I have walked away from my mother and while I'm working through the guilt of that, I want to know what it feels like to like myself. *sigh*

I get how bad this sounds and I get that it's bad to walk away from both of your parents. But remember, not all parents are nice and not all parents are supportive. I was the scapegoat and watched my golden child brothers have a fantastic childhood in comparison to mine.

The Much Awaited: Thanksgiving Thankfuls

I mentioned a few posts ago that I was going to right my own, honest, thankful list. Not the self indulgent bragging crap, but real ones. So, here goes:

Day 1: I am thankful my mother didn't abort me so that she could abuse me.

Day 2: I'm grateful for being emotionally stunted. It makes interactions with normal people extra special.

Day 3: I am grateful I am not in elementary school anymore. Going to school with the fear of a psychopath shooting up the place hanging over my head day after day might have traumatized me.

Day 4: I am thankful that my parents created me in an attempt to save their marriage. Setting me up for failure since conception has been a learning experience to say the least.

Day 5: Today, I am thankful that Wham! wrote " Wake me up before you go". It's inspired many a dance party in my head.

Day 6: I'm grateful my most recent therapist was such a colossal asshole that I no longer want anything to do with therapy, despite being well aware that I need it more than the average bear.

Day 7: I am thankful that my ex-fiance (Steve for those of you playing the home game) moved to Dubuque. I only go there every weekend because this tiny ass town 20 miles away has so little to offer. I love the slight worry that I will run into him and will therefore get to enjoy copious amounts of drama.

Day 8: I am grateful for schadenfreude. It's a real thing. Look it up. Enjoying the misery of others has helped to brighten my dark and twisty life on numerous occasions and I love it when it crops up.

Day 8: I am so thankful for the endless mirth provided by Craigslist. Today's gem was an ad in Dubuque looking for a "midget" who would basically be owned by a group of people and would be subjected to demeaning scenarios and sexual acts. I love it when it goes the extra mile.

Day 10: I am thankful that we are finally getting out of this crapartment and into a condo. The major bonus is that we will be paying less in rent and utilities while still upgrading.

Day 11: I am grateful that the wedding industry is seriously out of touch with reality and caters to people who can and do spend a minimum of $25,000 per wedding. It's genuinely a pleasure to see the look on your faces when I tell you I am getting married at the swankiest place in Iowa for less than $5,000.

Day 12: I am super thankful for people who use social media to post pictures of abused animals and children to promote abuse awareness. I'm sure that everyone loves that you're exploiting those defenseless people/creatures in order to feel better about yourself. Seriously. Wy to go. Exploitation is so in right now. Also, telling me that I'm a heartless bastard because I won't "share" the picture is so helpful for the cause.

Day 13: I'm thankful I live in a small minded community that embraces the double negative. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have nothing to talk about.

Day 14: I am thankful I have a dog. Some days, she's the only reason I'm alive. It's nice to have one person in your life who always thinks the sun shines out your ass, complete with rainbow. Even when she's being a sassy brat, I love the hell out of her.

Day 15: I'm thankful that the Christmas onslaught starts a full six months early now. Really. It's a wonderful thought that consumerism has become such an ingrained part of our society that we really do think we can buy love from one another in the form of overpriced and completely unnecessary "presents".

Day 16: I am grateful for friends I can be a catty, bitchy soprano with. I get to do it so rarely that it is truly the higlight of my month to get to do something that awesome with someone I really love.

Day 17: I am thankful that people see RSVP by a certain date and just ignore it. I really don't need to know if you're coming to my wedding. There will be plenty of food. The caterer will not charge me extra for you showing up unannounced. Your belief that the sun rises and sets at your convenience is totally founded. YOU are the unique snowflake in the tapestry of life.

Day 18: I am thankful to have been raised in the same household as my oldest brother. Being that close to absolute perfection and a true child prodigy has made certain that I am truly and well acquainted with the definition of the word "mediocrity".

Day 19: I'm grateful that people will always enable bullies once they become adults. When one child bullies another, we crack down on the side of the "weaker" child. When an adult does it, sometimes it's abuse, but most of the time it's "just a joke" and the other person is being too sensitive.

Day 20: I'm grateful to live in a world where the extinction of an entire animal species (Western Black Rhino) goes completely unnoticed by the majority of the public. Way to go, humanity!

Day 21: I am thankful for grammar Nazis. It's nice to not be alone in expecting excellence from everyone. Same goes for spelling Nazis, only I'm a little more aggressive about this one.

Day 22: I am thankful for the culture shock I've enjoyed by moving from a large city (Des Moines) to a moderately sized town. The insular society enjoyed by all of our neighbors who have known each other since birth has been so nice. I have no interest in making acquaintances or, dare I say, friends. I could understand the guarded familiarity of the city, but this complete shut out has be surprising.

Day 23: I'm thankful for the looks people give me when I correct them when they call me a lesbian. I'm sorry that you can't wrap your head around the concept of bisexuality, but just because I'm in a committed relationship with a woman, doesn't negate my attraction to men. When you find someone you love, do you completely stop noticing anyone else being attractive? I'm marrying Sara, but I'm not dead.

Day 24: I'm thankful that, because of a genetic fluke, I have webbed toes. I've decided they are the source of my awesomeness. I was genuinely disappointed the first time I saw Liam's toes and they were normal.

Day 25: I am thankful that Sara loves me, even with all of my flaws. Seriously. I have truly wondered if she is a glutton for punishment. Girl could do so much better than this basketcase.

Day 26: I'm grateful for hypocrisy. If it didn't exist, I couldn't sit around and judge people and then ten minutes later, get really pissed when I'm being judged. Yay, hypocrisy!

Day 27: I'm really grateful Liam is going with his dad for the holiday. I love the little trout, but I think we all need a break.

Day 28: It's Thanksgiving! It's Hanukkah! It's Thanksgivukkah! I'm am truly grateful that Kmart is starting deals at 6am today and that Walmart is starting them at 6pm. It nice that they're trying to take the Jewish approach to deciding when Black Friday actually starts. Especially during Hanukkah. When the sales are for Christmas. *sigh*

Day 29: Today is the day. Black Friday. Today, I am thankful for American and Corporate greed and knowing that today at least one person in the country will be trampled to death and others will be hospitalized from injuries sustained from other people who are so desperate to pay nothing for something. It's like poorly controlled rioting. I'm also thankful it's my brother's birthday.

Day 30: I am beyond thankful that this list is finally done.

A New Look

I had to redo my background because something was up. No idea what, but I figured I would rather spend 10 minutes picking out a generic background than an hour on hold with some guy in India trying to understand what the hell he's saying, so, enjoy.

I had an interesting conversation with a close friend recently. We were talking about love. She's currently falling head over heels for a pretty nice sounding man (I have never met him, so I'm just assuming he's nice) and is in that "love conquers everything" "love can and will endure" phase. Don't get me wrong. I am very happy in my relationship. I am thrilled to finally be in a healthy relationship with someone who doesn't need to tear me down and apart in order for her to feel good about herself. However, I've been married and I've been engaged. Both of those men I loved fiercely and both of those men abused me once they got comfortable in the relationship. Love was not enough in those cases. Love did not endure and it sure as hell didn't conquer shit. I look at this reasonable, brilliant woman and I want to shake her and tell her to watch her back. Don't get complacent. Don't let him take you for granted. Ever. I know not all men are horrible. Not all men hit. Not all men tear you apart to feel like a man. But some do. Keeping your guard up is only smart. With Sara, I have been with her for 4 years and she has been my best friend for 7 years now. I am thrilled that I get to be one of those people who can say that they married their best friend.

Eventually, our discussion moved on to the wedding. I was talking about how surprised I was by how little Sara seemed to care about the cake or the menu or the music or even her dress. I mentioned that I hated being the other bride because I couldn't be there for everything she was enjoying (read: being dragged through by her mom). I love seeing her become a bride. It's so exciting. I have been planning every little detail in an attempt to give Sara the perfect wedding. I mentioned that with me, I had had my wedding. It was nothing I was proud of and I wouldn't wish that wedding on anyone. My turn was over, but Sara's wasn't and this was her day, not mine. At this point, my friend stopped me and told me that it was both our day. Yet, I feel like I can't justify this second wedding to myself. Like I have felt with Sara, I just don't deserve another one. I recall hearing it said that a wedding dress is like a coat of white primer paint. It covers up the past so a new one can begin. The old layers are there, but they're covered. It never sat well with me. I want so badly to admit that this day is mine too, but it isn't. I only have one other person who is helping me plan this wedding (excluding Sara) and I feel... like a fraud. I want this, but I had my chance and that's gone and a coat of primer doesn't change that.

An interlude with death

I'm on the road today. Left this morning for Sara's mom's and now we are off to her grandma's. She's not doing well. I absolutely hate this time of year. 15 years ago, during this time of year, my grandfather was dying. I have always been an unreasonable person. Years prior to my grandfather dying I had taken time to figure out what order I was comfortable with losing my grandparents. My aforementioned grandfather was the last one on the list, so naturally, he was the first to go. I was close with him. I spent every spring break and at least a week with him and my grandmother. I lived for these weeks because at least this way, I got a minimum of 2 weeks a YEAR where I was someone's special kid. He and I used to go for little car rides around the lake and once, when I was a teenager, he took me to a mall an hour away so that I could do girl things, like go to Claire's. Between he and my grandmother I got spoiled rotten during those weeks. I'm not talking about materially spoiled. I'm talking about emotionally. I got to play epic games of skip-bo and monopoly with grandma and I got to stay up curled up next to my grandpa watching crappy CBS dramas. I waited for the water tower light to come on with my grandpa. We would have smorgasbord lunches where we cleaned out the fridge and combined foods that had no business being combined. I was given memories that have been more precious than any thing I could have been handed. The only things I ever took from their house after they were gone were one of my grandpa's handkerchieves and the pink plastic loop I gave them when I was little. Backstory: I had a horrible habit of leaving things at their house. They would tease me and say it was just my way of making sure they knew I would be back. So one time when I was four, I made them a pink necklace and gave it to them so they always knew I would be back. Funny thing is, I couldn't take it out of the house. I couldn't do it, so my mother, in one of her true mom moments, brought it back to her house and hung it from her calendar (where they had hung it in their house). I have never reconciled the reversal of my list. Doesn't by any means mean that I don't like my surviving grandmother. I adore her, but she wasn't the same for me. I hate watching Sara go through this. It stirs up a lot of feelings that I have tried to stomp down, but worse, it's knowing that once your favorite grandparent is gone, it never stops hurting. It dulls, and you get used to it, but then something happens. You get married. You have a baby. You get divorced. You struggle. Any thing really. And there you are, wishing you could see them or talk to them. Back to the bargaining stage. It's unfair.

In which I insult my entire family

My wedding is less than 2 months away. I sent out invitations at the start of October. Unfortunately, I invited only about 40 people, knowing full well that only about 25 will show. I'm grateful for that because I can't afford any more than 30 people. However, that means that most of my family didn't get an invitation. My mom has 4 brothers, each of them has a wife, and between them there are 7 children. I hate that I had to be that person. I invited a distant cousin who I haven't seen since I was 13 or 15, but she and I have struck a pretty solid friendship and I want her there.

Then there are the bible thumpers. I have no problem with the ones who just love Jesus. Jesus was a pretty awesome guy. I don't believe he's the Messiah, but that's a whole different discussion. The bible thumpers are the ones who don't agree with the gay lifestyle (who asked??) and are fond of quoting Leviticus at me, and yet have no problem with women wearing pants. Yeah. Leviticus says that women who wear pants are whores and should be treated as such. These are also the people who told me I was going to hell for leaving my abusive ex-husband who used to release stress by abusing me. Usually verbally, but on special occasions he liked to hit me. Forgive me for not wanting you there as I pledge my love for a woman and vow to be with her until the end of time or the cancellation of Dr. Who.

The cousins aren't so bad. I feel horribly though, because there are a couple of them who I would LOVE to have invited, but if I had, the parents would have come and I don't want that level of anxiety hanging over me on my wedding day. To be honest though, I wish everyone could be there. It would be nice to finally interact with these people as an adult. To try to see if friendships can be formed or if these are just people that I know by virtue of my birth. I would love to know these people as people. Sure, my cousins are the fun kids who I tried to build an airplane with out of a wheelbarrow and spare parts behind my grandparents' garage, but, considering that I never talk to people from elementary school, I'm curious about these people. Being me, I just assume they don't want to know me. I'm also pretty sure I'm the black sheep, so I keep myself and my valuable, sooty wool to myself. I avoid family functions. But maybe it's time I tried to know these people.

I will probably send out announcements. It's the polite and proper thing to do. I hate that I've probably offended every single one of them by excluding them from the wedding, but honestly, the main reason is financial. We, Sara and I, not our mothers, are paying for this wedding. We have paid for everything and I like that. It means that I don't have to listen to the "you should do this" argument if I don't want to. Okay. Enough bitching and worrying. I should try to find a better topic next time. Maybe i'll start posting my thanksgiving thankfuls here. Be warned: they're all true, but they aren't like everyone else's.

Anger leads to hate, Hate leads to suffering

I feel like I am simmering with anger almost 24 hours a day. Anger at myself for being crippled by my social anxieties. Anger at Liam when he shows any hint of being like me because no one needs to be anything like me. Anger at Sara for being crazy enough to think I'm fine the way I am. Anger at my brothers for being only the most recent men to bail on my son. Anger at my now former therapist for saying that it is my fault for how I feel. Nevermind that I'm trying to deal with shit I've never dealt with before and emotions are bound to show up, but it is entirely my fault for those emotions for being there. I guess when you have been abused as a child, an adolescent and an adult, the smart thing to do is to just shrug it off and walk away. Guess I'm not smart.

It doesn't help matters that I decided to just stop my meds about 3 weeks ago. I was way overmedicated anyways, but that fact is only adding fuel to the fire of anger I'm trying to deal with. I am so angry and so upset and I don't want to talk to anyone about it. Professional or otherwise. I'm angry that people have pulled away from me like I'm a fucking leper. So instead, I'm isolating myself. Hiding from anyone that might be slightly interested in helping because no one in this world wants to be helping anyone. At least not without getting something in return. Even if all they receive is that wonderful feeling of self congratulations. And once again, someone profits from my misery.

The thing that has been bothering me the most though is how often suicide is coming up in conversation and the worst part of it is that I'm not the one bringing it up. It's usually part of a conversation that goes "did you know so and so died?" and then I find out that yet another of my friends has committed suicide. What's worst is that there is a part of me, albeit small, that is jealous. Jealous that they had the nerve to end it all and yet I'm stuck here waffling on the subject and trying to make sure no one knows about it because once anyone does find out, it immediately turns into a "I'm going to help you so that I feel better" situation and I'm not in the mood to make everyone else feel better. I'd rather figure out how to make myself feel better. *sigh*