Stuff over the weekend
So. Starting from Friday.
I went out to eat with Mom, for her birthday. We had a good time. I had a good steak. She had a free steak.
That night I had a nightmare that she had been murdered because of me.
The following day I went to Ren Faire. I was frustrated because of my inability to be supportive of certain ones, I snapped unforgiveably at certain other ones, and otherwise it was an okay day.
Sunday I discussed things with my father. That night I did not sleep. I worked myself up into a state of desperate anguish instead.
I got up at six to get blood drawn by a cute gay phlebotamist. He took five or six vials out of me-- I didn't look at them long enough to get an accurate count-- then told me to go eat breakfast. I did so, with my father, and we talked a little more. I came back and got another vial drawn, whereupon I passed out because my blood pressure dived into the basement.
Dad took me home and I hung around until my bitsdoctor appointment. Then I had my bits poked by an RN who was surprisingly extremely understanding and patient and kind. I was glad because it was nervewracking.
That night I talked to my mom. This was also nervewracking.
Then I woke up. I came home. I am now here, stressing about things I wouldn't have been stressing over if it weren't for my discussions with my parents. With a tiny dose of kind, loving, misplaced concern, they have the power to make me feel like total shit, doubt my ability to make my own decisions, doubt my sanity, and feel utter anguish because I cannot get across to them how I am feeling. When I'm not with them, I feel competent and in charge of my own life, but when I'm in their house, I feel like I revert to the patterns I developed as a child, and I can't show them that I'm not that person anymore.
Oh well. Exeunt angst.
posted by Kerrick @ 4:26 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
*hugs* Sometimes I find if I sleep, things feel better, even if the problem doesn't improve.
It's funny, but when I think of you, the first thing that comes to my mind is your independent, get-things-done nature. You're always doing so many things and tackling really big issues. Don't doubt your abilities. You've been making big decisions for yourself.
Sometimes something symbolic of a change can help you remember who you are if reverting bothers you. And sometimes people won't be able to understand things you're feeling because they haven't experienced such things.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, you will pull through all this. You're strong enough and you will get everything taken care of. And it's daunting to have huge things ahead... But I have faith that you will tackle whatever crosses your path.
Plus, your friends will always support you.
I don't doubt for a moment that you're a capable, mature person. And I think you're brave for going through what you do and still tackling more.
If you ever need a moment for tea or what have you, feel free to drop by. Sometimes it helps to space out a little. *hug* I'm here if you want to talk.
On a regular basis I try in vain to explain to my mother what depression feels like. I try to make her understand how I feel, how I think, and why I make the decisions I do. I have a good relationship with my parents, and I want them to understand. But I've decided to stop this approach.
I've come to the realization that parents don't really want to know, or to understand. This may sound harsh or overly teen-angsty, but I'm being serious. They just want us all to be "normal" - by whatever their definition of that is. They're not really open to the idea that we did not turn out just like they wanted, just like they expected. They also still view us as children on some level, and always will. Thus, they can never really completely respect our decisions, especially when they themselves do not agree with them.
When they had you, they also had a certain idea of you - how you would be, what they wanted you to be. They also began the habit of making all of your decisions for you, and are now programmed to believe they always know what's best for you. They think because they are "older and wiser" that they have a clearer picture of your life than you do. Where you feel pain, they see immaturity and indecision. But they're not in your head. They've not had your experiences. They can't know you so well as they did when you were a child, and they can't make you turn out a certain way, or take away your pain, or solve your problems. This is all very frustrating to them. Because the truth is, when they had you, they forgot that one day you would cease to be a child, you would no longer need their approval, and that YOU would one day know what was best for you, instead of them. They knew you'd grow up, but they never realized that you'd grow into your own person.
Unconditional support from one's parents will simply never happen. It's a dream, but it will never materialize.
We are no longer talking about a parent-child relationship at a certain point. We're talking about the relationship between three adults. And you're the only one of the three that realizes that. This isn't just about what you're going to do with your body, it's about what you're going to do without their consent. Would they ever dream of telling another adult what to do with their body, their sexuality, their career, their lives?
It's frustrating for them because, at least on the emotional level, they don't realize that they no longer have control of your actions. It's frustrating for them because they think their idea of happiness and identity are the measuring stick by which all things are compared - to be normal or abnormal, healthy or unhealthy, etc. From their point of view you are making a mistake. But ask yourself: if you just now told an adult you met off the street what your plans were, and they objected, how much importance would you place upon their response? They're just people, don't put too much importance on their responses, especially when they just now found out. Don't need their unconditional acceptance, and don't doubt yourself because some well-meaning strangers-to-your-mind have reservations about something they don't really understand and have never felt.
Ultimately, our parents, they just want us to be happy. If it comes up again, just say "I'm happy." They don't really need to understand. This is your show. They're just in the audience, like everyone else.
I'm not angsting about it any more. I wrote a letter, sent it off, and what will come of that will come of that. They are trying to understand, not only because I want them to, but because they need to make sense of this for themselves. How they make sense of it for themselves in relation to their lives need have nothing to do with how I make sense of it for myself. What they are going through and what they are about to go through is very hard, and there is no way for me to make it easier on them-- although my inability to communicate effectively is certainly making it harder. But yes. I can only help them so much, and then I've got to just go on with what I have to do.
What happens when I get so anguished about not being able to communicate, I think, is that I really am just reliving those feelings from childhood and high school. It's not that now I desperately need their approval and understanding the way I did then; it's more of a flashback. But it takes some distance to let me see that.
Thank you both for being supportive. I appreciate it more than I can express.
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