Friday, June 06, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Then I was thinking of the poems I used to write my pets when they died. I thought about this, because it linked to the more recent posts to "family members" dying, and that made me think of other grief. Then I thought why didn't I write poems for Mustache, Leon, Jackie, Stormy, and Jazz. And this made me immediately think of something my NM blogged about how I apparently like to write sappy poems.
I did not even realize this was subconsciously affecting me. Granted I am no artist with words, I know that. This is not why I wrote these memorials to my pets (and a couple of love poems to my husband). It was to somehow represent something that I was feeling inside in that moment. Because NM could not accept that I was no longer her victim, she needed to take a mean spirited shot at me. And I knew that, but thought at the time this would never affect me.
Now I wonder where those poems are and if they have been saved. It's like that day that side of me just shut down for someone I had decided some time ago was not worth my while. Certainly not worth these examples of emotional abuse that was her side of our relationship!
Others have said it's not that ONE thing. It's the constant barrage of things. I for one am so glad that barrage has stopped, so I can continue to get my feet under me and reclaim myself. I love the way those goofy poems make me feel now, remembering how I felt then. So now I will be working on memorials to my other lost pets.
Try not to let people diminish those parts of you. It's hard because sometimes you do not know it happened until much much later, as it happens subconsciously.
Friday, September 27, 2013
"Someone can be a good person and still believe untruths. This is what inspired me to write about Being Wrong. Because I believe that many good people believe bad things about other good people who don't deserve being so maligned. After all, it is said that you have to demonize someone before you can hate them. It's a lot harder to dislike and hate someone who really is a nice enough person. So, to estrange them successfully, it helps to demonize, demonize, demonize!!"
No, for me, it was a very painful look at the reality of the situation. My NM is not a monster or a demon. She is just someone I don't want in my life. So many examples of why including her blog and postings about me on other sites that were "not meant for my eyes", as an explanation.
That's fine, but there is no reason to again point the finger of blame at me, and continue to not recognize my valid reasons for estrangement that have been laid out for her (and certainly not denied by her). It's statements like these that have me shaking my head.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The first thing that struck me is that I did not first think the yellow short woman was eggy. She actually seems to look more like my Aunt Sojna (no blood relation to eggy). Or maybe my cousin Debbie who was roughly her age, I think.
I think there are a couple of reasons I have trouble recognizing her. One being, is that woman has almost no similarity in my mind to what I know of her now. Even her interests...she used to play softball, we used to hike in the mountains, and I did feel loved at this age by both eggy and spermy. I am probably six in this photo, maybe even five. The physical exercise stuff she pretty much hates now, and may have even hated then. It is hard to fit the perception of her by my six year old self, to my perception of her as my 40 year old self. I can pick out things that hinted at what I understand her to be now, but taken as a one time thing could have just been anyone having a bad day or making a bad choice. Looking back on days like this (I don't remember the exact one, but I remember days like this in the Cape) I see two people that I have not seen since (in spermy's case) age 9 and (in my mother's case) around age 16 or 17. Though I would say I knew something was not right around Junior High, but the real realizations started to trickle in around 16 to my 20s.
It strikes me how captive young children can be into their parents "situation". There is nothing a daughter can do if their father dislikes women. You can not keep yourself, for instance, from becoming a woman instead of a cute toddler girl who thinks her father is right in everything before learning to think for herself. In third grade, I loved my teacher Mr Sullivan. Not in a romantic kind of way, he was just fun, interesting, and into teaching his students. He made everyone in his class feel special. One day I came home enthusiastic about a lesson or idea that Mr Sullivan had taught us that day. I was met with a lot of hostility from Spermy. I look back on that day as the day the guy in the picture above became deceased as far as my perception of him. It was not that little incident understand, it is every incident that snowballed after that. I never felt loved or cherished by spermy pretty much since that day. I did not understand why. I did not even really understand what was happening. It was not until reflecting the course of our relationship later on, that I could pick out what seems to be a pivotal moment when perhaps both of our opinions about each other changed drastically.
It is clear now that spermy was threatened by my interest in my teacher vs my compliance in agreeing with him instead of forming my own opinions. I was brought up correctly so to believe racism and sexism is bad. However, I found later, that these were not the ideals of my donors inner most thoughts, and sometimes public verbal thoughts. I know that eggy thought she was a feminist, and that she was independent. However, much of what she writes is about the dependence she has on people viewing her a certain way. Part of that is narcissist but part of that is also not understanding that you need to take the reigns of your own destiny. And that is not representative of a strong or independent woman.
When those things start to diverge for me, I realized that my donors were pretty much strangers. Through other events and things that happened, they ended up being strangers that I did not like at all.
It's so weird to see a photo like this for this reason. It's like looking into an alternate universe. A bizzaro world where these people grew together, were close, and lived happily ever after as the loving family they appear to be.
I guess it troubles me that I had no control, and have no control of how the story of that family turns out.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Say it with me "dysfunctional triangulation" yet again. If I had an interest in "connecting" with you, I would call you, as most normal people would do. Perhaps write. Instead of triangulating your messages through relatives or websites.
I DO NOT have any interest in contacting you. Lynn's death has NOT inspired me to disregard my boundaries or my happiness.
And if we see each other at an event soon, just try to act like a normal human being. You know "hi" and walk on by. Not glare, or press up against the redbox distribution center, or scowl, or any of the number of things you usually do. Unless it is the other one, in which case also just try to act like a human being. Let me talk to my relatives if I want to without running up and inserting yourself in between as you did at the anniversary party. Trust me, I have no interest in talking about either of you.
Just going to support the groom and bride. So please, don't take these as opportunities to do whatever selfish and inconsiderate thing it is that you are tempted to do. Try just try to be decent one time. It would be appreciated.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Strangers die, people I have watched on TV die, acquaintances die, people I have seen around town die, co workers die....and some of those people (not all but some) I have had a closer relationship than my own FOO. Should I die, I do not want someone showing up at my funeral that I have chosen not to speak to for years---sometimes more than a decade even if we might share a gene or two. I will be grateful for their mourning, but please do not desecrate me if you were not in my life with your pressence in my death.
In the same way, I have chosen to honor my cousin without pretending our relationship was something that it was not. People closest to her that chose to keep their relationship real and alive with her should surround her at her funeral (assuming that was her wish).
If this was myself (which it is notand I know that), I want a cremation and very private perhaps non existent memorial. I do believe that my cousin who passed was not in spirit itching for me to rush down to be with her body and a bunch of people who have not bothered to reach out to me until a death in the family (typical by the way). Trust me, if she had not talked to me for years (and we had no falling out, I believe it was an organic growth of our dysfunctional family state), at no point would her big concern after death be whether I was there or not at her funeral.
I guarantee you, my spirit will not be zoning for people I have not talked to for a decade or more when I go (but maybe that is just me, and just because I have dealt with that already). Just scatter me with my pets around the beach or the yard by someone who truly loved me, and was with me through the happy, the sad, the bad, the good, the sickness, the health, the poor times, the rich times, through work, through play, and on and on. Do not come to me after I die to say how much you blah blah blah. You did not even know me. I did not know my cousin that well, only superficially. I did like and respect her. I think I knew something of what she might of felt about our family. Then again maybe not. I have not talked to her for a very very very long time. Before then, we may have talked once to three times a year, even when we were little. We never corresponded on Facebook or anything like that. Never shared a really deep thought.
I feel for her, and I feel for her family. Got a call from my Uncle, which I did not return, after about seven years of him not bothering to contact me even after I reached out long ago. This is not a punishment to him, he is just not in my life. I worked very hard to purge myself of the virtual strangers that can take and can demand, but can never give or empathize in return. And I do empathize with them, but they don't need me. I don't need them to use me as their proof that I will come running, and after all we are a close family. We ARE NOT FAMILY EXCEPT IN THE MOST STRICT BIOLOGICAL SENSE.
I know the cashier at the grocery store better, and I like her more. (A bit harsh but I speak the truth here) So while I feel sorry for them, they are going to need to turn to the people they have kept in their lives. I grieve for my cousin on my own terms. I certainly do not want that poison to surround me in my time of grief---that is really about lost opportunities for her.