Wow, I still don't like my parents.
I don't really think that this is a shocking or revalatory statement for me to make.
But I have secretly been hoping that this mess would clean up, or that my parents would be able to make some sort of change.
It is apparent to me now that they will not.
I find this really depressing.
Really quite depressing.
It seems in retrospect that they did not and do not like me on any level.
Most people say that your parents love you just because of the fact that they are your parents. A lot of people tell me that I should be more forgiving of them. That they are my parents, and they are the only ones.
True I say, but also not true.
What if your parents were never parental figures to you for as long as you can remember? What if they have always been an enemy to fight against? A struggle for which you are constantly swimming upstream in a battle.
Kicking is hard, but the bottom is harder.
Madonna was more of a mother than my mother was. I have all these musicians, writers, artists, and friends who are more family to me in feel and in memory than my parents were.
I have sisters, I know what siblinghood feels like.
But to have parents who you love and who love you back, I don't have that at all. And since I have stopped looking for it with my parents, it is strange.
It is strange that I know have the knowledge that we will never function as a family, that I may never forgive them, that they will never know me for who I am. What does one do in this situation?
Many times suicide seems like the only exist since the pain of this is a lot for one to bear. Yet I am afraid of not finding out what my life could be and not getting those things that I desire. I am not prepared to die without having been in love and have it reciprocated. I am not finished with being alive, but the pain of it can be almost unbearable. Many times I walk down the hall to my apartment with the mantra "I can't do this, I can't do this." Yet it seems I can, and I do.
What brings this all up is a conversation I had with my therapist yesterday.
I said that my parents do not behave like people who care.
This was in the context of the fact that once my sister hit me in the head with a 2X4 and that I needed to go to the hospital. My parents actually had a fight over who was going to take me since neither one wanted to. That made me feel very bad about myself. Dr. G tried to defend them and that made me angry. I didn't want her to come to their defence when I don't think that they deserve it.
Today I realized that she was trying to make me angry. And it has worked. I am angry and I hate it, it feels unnatural for me to feel this way, since I was trained that being angry (especially at them) is not okay.
So where am I going with this?
I really have no idea.
The healing process is a strange one. To come to terms with certain things can take more time in one avenue than it can in another. So I guess we will see.