Now I Know Why
My parents have told me for my whole life about how my mom's sister always used to throw tantrums when she still lived with her parents. Ok, that tells me who, what, when, and where, but not why. I've never known why. Until today. Today, I found myself wanting to rip into a punching bag with photos of all the women in my family line, probably even myself, on it, with a large dagger, then kick-box it, punch right through it, call it all kinds of names, and generally just send it straight to hell (no, not the one with flames - the one in my imagination). I sent out an email (on an individual basis) to selective friends who know more about this situation than anyone else simply asking them to pray for God's Guidance in this.
Why? My mom's a "B." Pure, plain, and simple. She comes off to the public as being all sweet and heroic - what a wonderful woman that she cares for my autistic brother! I used to even fall for that one myself. Yes, it's work. It's a big job. But it's not HARD if you really do LOVE someone. I should know. I've done it myself. What most people don't know is that right after my parents kicked me out 9 years ago, they informed me that they wanted to get rid of my brother - leave him to the State of California. I was the one who vehiemiently vetoed that and convinced them to keep him in the family. My mom's a real sweetheart alright. Oh please.
You may wonder how I could write that if a Loving God lives in my heart. You know something? He IS a Loving God. And He DOES Live in my heart! Any Loving God who has seen what that woman has put me and really the whole family through would not approve of it. No, He doesn't condemn her to hell. No, He hasn't stopped Loving her. But He KNOWS, and so do I, that she is seriousely twisted in the head and probably needs psycho therapy, not just Promensil, the drug she takes for menopause.
What does this have to do with her sister? Everything. My mom drives me nuts. Why? Mainly because she's like Hitler in a dress half the time, and the other half, she's more like Mrs. Doubtfire in pants. I dunno - she's just all "sweet and wonderful" when she wants something from me, or dad, or my brother, but when she isn't satisfied with the results of her manipulation (and she NEVER is), she turns into some kind of monster with an iron fist. That's how her mother was toward her, her sister, and her brother as she was growing up. My mom is the most like her mother, though her brother is a close second in that race. But her sister??? Nope. Her sister is VERY much like me - a "rebel" as it were. So much so that she moved from OR to TN just to get away from everyone. Her excuse was to be closer to her husband's family, and they did raise their 2 daughters with his family in their lives and such, but she made it obviouse to everyone but her mother what the real reason was for her leaving. She just couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to be happy, and those people, particularly her mom, were just stealing her joy.
I was raised to look on my aunt as some kind of nut. Someone who threw tantrums as a teenager, even throwing herself on the floor screaming in pain. I did that once as a teenager, the very first time I came face to face with the raw emptiness of my parents' hearts. There simply is nothing there. I had always sensed that they didn't love me - that they only saw me as an extension of themselves and only loved themselves, not the "me" that I really am inside. But until I was about 15 or so, I just hadn't seen the full ugliness of it. My parents just pretended that they couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. They decided that I must need drugs to control my behavior. They couldn't face it that THEY really were the problem. They still can't.
I now wish I had gotten to know my cousins better. And my aunt and uncle. Since I was raised biassed against my aunt to think she was some kind of nutty-fruit-cake, I didn't really like her all that much. But I liked her husband well enough the 2 times I got to meet him. He had a great sense of humor. I always thought the girls, my cousins, were a bit odd. The older one is very shy. The younger one certainly is not. Neither of them were what I thought of as "normal" (based on my mom's idea of normal at the time). I now think they both probably are very normal, sane human beings. I haven't seen them in a long time now, but I'm willing to bet on it.
Do I think I'm "normal." No. I think this blog proves that I'm far from the world's idea of normal. My mom is becoming more and more like her mother every day and I'm just both weried and outraged at it. What's really nutty is that in her old age, grandma has actually kind of evened out a bit. In truth, if it weren't for my mom's brother and his wife sharing her and grandpa's home with them, I'd go live there while looking for work. It would NOT be an ideal situation at all, but it would be far better than this one. What's up with my uncle? He's basically just like mom, only male and a tad bit ruder on a more regular basis. Yet his bark isn't as bad as her bite.
Hey, all I know is this much: Honesty is a virtue. And I've just been incredibly honest with you all about what's going on over here today.
Why? My mom's a "B." Pure, plain, and simple. She comes off to the public as being all sweet and heroic - what a wonderful woman that she cares for my autistic brother! I used to even fall for that one myself. Yes, it's work. It's a big job. But it's not HARD if you really do LOVE someone. I should know. I've done it myself. What most people don't know is that right after my parents kicked me out 9 years ago, they informed me that they wanted to get rid of my brother - leave him to the State of California. I was the one who vehiemiently vetoed that and convinced them to keep him in the family. My mom's a real sweetheart alright. Oh please.
You may wonder how I could write that if a Loving God lives in my heart. You know something? He IS a Loving God. And He DOES Live in my heart! Any Loving God who has seen what that woman has put me and really the whole family through would not approve of it. No, He doesn't condemn her to hell. No, He hasn't stopped Loving her. But He KNOWS, and so do I, that she is seriousely twisted in the head and probably needs psycho therapy, not just Promensil, the drug she takes for menopause.
What does this have to do with her sister? Everything. My mom drives me nuts. Why? Mainly because she's like Hitler in a dress half the time, and the other half, she's more like Mrs. Doubtfire in pants. I dunno - she's just all "sweet and wonderful" when she wants something from me, or dad, or my brother, but when she isn't satisfied with the results of her manipulation (and she NEVER is), she turns into some kind of monster with an iron fist. That's how her mother was toward her, her sister, and her brother as she was growing up. My mom is the most like her mother, though her brother is a close second in that race. But her sister??? Nope. Her sister is VERY much like me - a "rebel" as it were. So much so that she moved from OR to TN just to get away from everyone. Her excuse was to be closer to her husband's family, and they did raise their 2 daughters with his family in their lives and such, but she made it obviouse to everyone but her mother what the real reason was for her leaving. She just couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to be happy, and those people, particularly her mom, were just stealing her joy.
I was raised to look on my aunt as some kind of nut. Someone who threw tantrums as a teenager, even throwing herself on the floor screaming in pain. I did that once as a teenager, the very first time I came face to face with the raw emptiness of my parents' hearts. There simply is nothing there. I had always sensed that they didn't love me - that they only saw me as an extension of themselves and only loved themselves, not the "me" that I really am inside. But until I was about 15 or so, I just hadn't seen the full ugliness of it. My parents just pretended that they couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. They decided that I must need drugs to control my behavior. They couldn't face it that THEY really were the problem. They still can't.
I now wish I had gotten to know my cousins better. And my aunt and uncle. Since I was raised biassed against my aunt to think she was some kind of nutty-fruit-cake, I didn't really like her all that much. But I liked her husband well enough the 2 times I got to meet him. He had a great sense of humor. I always thought the girls, my cousins, were a bit odd. The older one is very shy. The younger one certainly is not. Neither of them were what I thought of as "normal" (based on my mom's idea of normal at the time). I now think they both probably are very normal, sane human beings. I haven't seen them in a long time now, but I'm willing to bet on it.
Do I think I'm "normal." No. I think this blog proves that I'm far from the world's idea of normal. My mom is becoming more and more like her mother every day and I'm just both weried and outraged at it. What's really nutty is that in her old age, grandma has actually kind of evened out a bit. In truth, if it weren't for my mom's brother and his wife sharing her and grandpa's home with them, I'd go live there while looking for work. It would NOT be an ideal situation at all, but it would be far better than this one. What's up with my uncle? He's basically just like mom, only male and a tad bit ruder on a more regular basis. Yet his bark isn't as bad as her bite.
Hey, all I know is this much: Honesty is a virtue. And I've just been incredibly honest with you all about what's going on over here today.
posted by Caroline Talita Ishshah | 9:59 PM
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