The Flowery Journal My Sister Gave Me (Part 16)

More journal stuff.

This page is about family.  

Yikes.

Note: Blue is what was printed in the journal.  Green is what I wrote (probably back in 1996)



As I got older, my perceptions of family began to change. I now saw-My mom wasn't as much of a bitch as I thought she was. My dad was a good person but a jerk like all men are. That Dawn could cause a sister to be emotionally disturbed.

So I guess at that point, I was blaming all my angst on my older sister. 

Maybe we had gotten into a fight recently? 

I'm not sure it was all about perception changing. I think it might have been more about people relating better to each other at different times in their life.

I think that when I was a child and teenager, I was an uncomfortable challenge to my parents. 

I probably had some sort of mild autism...or at least some social awkwardness. 

OR maybe I could at least say I was out of sync with my family.

And that out-of-synch state would always be there.  I think, though, that there were times I was more in synch.

One of those times was probably 1996. I now had a serious boyfriend, and one who knew how to charm my parents and sisters.  

Yeah. I found this song from Crazy Ex-Girlfriends hit quite close to home.




Also in another journal page, I read recently, I had talked about maybe trying to start drinking.

There were times that I felt my dad wasn't pleased with my teetotaller state—that it was just another thing that made me too weird.

I don't remember much about why I felt that way. But I do remember him suggesting that I at least hold a drink that LOOKS like alcohol, so I don't cause a fuss.

I don't know. Maybe he thought I was being too loud about my no-drinking? And who knows. Maybe I had been? Maybe I was perceived as being too self-righteous.

How I saw my mother-as being superficial and a terrible listener. I was right about the bad listener part, but I later learned she was far from superficial.

It sounds like I was thinking of something specific there. Maybe there was some kind of event or conversation that showed me that my mother was much deeper than I believed.

And my father-Corny, narcissistic, dedicated, driven, cruel.

I'm surprised I knew the word narcissistic back then.  I'm not sure why. I graduated college. You'd expect me to have a few vocabulary words up my sleeve.

The most positive lesson I learned at home-Love can heal.

Well, now I definitely disagree with that.

Because I know people love me...in their own certain way. And I love people.

But I don't feel healed. At all.

And the most negative-Don't trust people.

You never know if people are going to hurt you, betray you, or if not that...If they truly love you and provide you with strong emotional support, there's always the chance they'll get hit by a truck. Or cancer. Or something like that.

I loved the last two lines of Hannah Baker's poem in 13 Reasons Why.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

In some ways, those two lines sum up my life.

There have been too many times that I reached out to people, and was knocked back in some way.

Sometimes it's pretty huge. Like opening up to someone. Feeling a small amount of relief. Feeling I might finally have someone on my side. Then soon after, we get in a fight, and they use what I had confided to attack me.

Sometimes it's small things.

For example....

I have been part of a Twitter clique the past year or so, because a small group of people keep adding my name to their conversations. I was more of a listener most of the time, and I didn't share much.

But then one of them asked me if I was okay and...I forgot what else she said, but it almost sounded like she truly cared.

I had been in the deep midst of the DFW neurology drama and decided maybe I WOULD open up a little bit.  So I just said something like, things have been a bit rough lately.  And then because I didn't want to be too dark, I added a little joke related to the trivial/fun conversation we had been having that day.

A part of me knew it would not go beyond, are you okay?  A part of me understood that they didn't really want to know more about me. They were just being polite. Or they were asking out of habit.

But there was a part of me that imagined they might actually be interested. I thought maybe I might stop being the one in the group who's so secretive. Maybe these people could actually become real friends.

Well, what happened is, they latched on to the joke and totally ignored the part about me having a rough time.

They didn't ask any more questions.

They showed no interest.

What I loved about 13 Reasons Why was it broke through the bullshit about how we can all feel much better if we opened up and told someone our problems.

I'm sure that DOES work for some people.

But it doesn't work for everyone.

Too many times it hasn't worked for me.

The sense of self my family gave me-Important. Before Dawn's accident, I think I caused most problems in the family. I made Dawn's life miserable. No, that's not right. Dawn's life isn't miserable. I mean I think I am the hangnail in Dawn's life which is a comfort since she is a brain tumor in mine.

Holy fuck.

We must have been in a huge fight when I was writing in that journal.

Dawn and I get along quite well these days. We do still have huge fights, but we balance it out with a lot of laughing.

A story about my family life-November 1995. My mom was in an awful mood, bitchy and irritable mood. My dad was in his irritating mood. He constantly provoked my mother, and she reacted like a first grader. I took my mother's side, not because I thought she was right, but because I had a need to go against my father. 

Melissa and Dawn went on my dad's side, because they thought he was funny. War broke out. My mom screamed at Dawn in the hall of a hotel. Dawn and I "ran away" and hid. Melissa and Dawn cried. 

This was the first time I realized that I wasn't the only emotionally disturbed person in my family.  

Thanksgiving drama!!

And a similar thing happened this past Thanksgiving.

Alone at home while everyone was at the lake house; I was going through some major drama shit—having one of my mini nervous breakdowns. I started getting delusional ideas that everyone there was talking bad about me; I was unloved; It would be better if I wasn't around, etc.

I hadn't gotten any texts from anyone in awhile, which is partly what triggered me.

Then I learned the family was busy having a huge fight without me!!!!  It kind of cheered me up, because I was reminded once again that I'm not an ugly stain on what might have been a perfect family.

My whole family is messed up.

And I think also that most families are pretty messed up.

We are ALL messed up.

Humanity itself is one big nervous breakdown.



How would our world change if we knew for sure there was life after death, and it was easy for our dearly-departed to talk to us via the Internet?   


The Dead are Online  a novel by Dina Roberts