In my techno world, I have two custom web pages that load each time I start up my internet browser (not the evil IE I might also toss out there) and each of them has a little blip for a daily horoscope. I rarely if ever put much stock in these little clips of life but occasionally read them just for a good laugh. Today I found this on my iGoogle page:
"You may have reached the end of the line and what worked well for you in the past may have outlived its useful life. Don't try to hold on to memories that only bring you pain. Let the thoughts bubble into consciousness and then leave them in the past where they belong. Try conjuring up some of that famous Piscean compassion so you can judge yourself less harshly. Being kind to others starts with you first."
Considering how well the last weekend "up north" went and the sour mood I found myself in both while I was there, and after returning back to my daily life, the timing of this one is just about perfect. I learned a few things about my life while I was up there, most importantly that my family is no where in the realm of functional and often is borderline unhealthy. I haven't felt so out of place or invisible in close to 12 years and by the time Jen and I finally got in the car to come home Sunday afternoon, I was ready to drive away and never come back.
I also learned that my family, at least when things go like they did last weekend, is a trigger for me. It triggers all those feelings of not fitting in and wondering if they would really miss me if I weren't around. Last weekend was the first time in close to 6 years that I had an honest suicidal thought and really wondered if I would be missed. I didn't travel too far down that road before remembering that there were good things in my life, places where I would be missed and I did fit in, it just isn't with my family.
I've always been the quiet one who sat back watching and listening to their "discussions". I've always been the one who would slip out of the room unnoticed when it got too loud and not be missed for hours sometimes. I've always been the one who went off to her hiding spot, the quietest spot in the entire house, and had her own conversations with an imaginary friend. Eventually those conversations in my head would get written down and occasionally transferred to a real life conversation with a friend who was always there to listen even when I didn't really want him to be. That was my childhood, loved and cared for by my family but often brushed aside as the more dominate members of the house asserted themselves.
My parents raised me the best way they knew how and often went out of their way to ensure my mental stability, particularly in junior high. Unfortunately, the sad fact is that our family is not functional and can often be an unhealthy place, at least for me. I'm different from the rest of them in so many ways. I despise loud voices and often shut down when they become raised; my family simply talks louder than the next person does in an effort to be heard. I observe people and life from a safe distance carefully watching their body language and the way they interact with others. This is how I judge who is a friend or foe. My family is not terribly observant and often gets too wrapped up in their end of the conversation to notice when others have shut down or left the room all together. I see things others miss, and sometimes things they don't realize they have done. I thrive on solitude and silence and often crawl inside my head to achieve this blocking out the world around me.
Last weekend was the first time I realized just how dysfunctional my childhood and life at home really was. Things were always a little tense around holidays, and it was not uncommon for one of us kids to be in trouble at any given time making Mom and Dad irritated. It was normal for tempers to flare, particularly between the oldest sister and my mother, and while Dad was on his spring allergy medication. I presumed every family was like this and never made the connection that my family might be at least part of why I felt like such an outcast. I was an outcast at school for many reasons and assumed that my feelings of being invisible and a misfit stemmed from this alone. In all the therapy sessions of my youth my family was often discussed but no one ever asked what it was like at home, or I never answered them honestly. I had friends with dysfunctional families, some from broken or abusive homes and I always considered myself lucky. I grew up knowing that I was loved and cared for by my family, but it wasn’t enough to counter the subtle messages I got daily telling me I was an outcast and often overlooked. More proof that actions clearly speak louder than words.
I've been slowly coming to terms with my new found knowledge this week and have once again returned from the short trip down that very dark road in my mind. I know I don't fit the mold Mom created for my life, I never have, and I am beginning to accept this once and for all. I don't know where this will leave me for spending time with them in the future as it may be best to simply sever those ties and move on with my life. I'm not yet ready to cut them off completely, and have no intention of doing so, but the sad fact is that some things will never change and I am no longer willing to spend time someplace that makes me feel the way I did in their house last weekend.
Jen and I are planning to spend a weekend up there the end of the month when it will just be the two of us with Mom and Dad. I probably need to initiate a conversation with them and explain why I was in such a bad mood and how it made me feel. I doubt Mom will see the light so to speak but at least I will know for sure that there is no hope of change. Unfortunately, I'm just not sure how to approach this with them and will probably just leave well enough alone in the hope it will fix itself. Maybe Jack has some suggestions...
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