Archive for January, 2016|Monthly archive page

My Big Fat Life – I’m Divorcing My Family

In Uncategorized on January 25, 2016 at 7:50 pm

*** I’m just enough in the mood not to care about editing that I’m not going to. So read with that disclaimer. Thanks.. 

Growing up in my family there was a pecking order. Being the 4th of 6 kids at home, we all shared the responsibility of raising the younger sibilings as the sibling above you moved out, got arressted, ran away, or whatever method they used to escape the hell known as my family. Under me I had a younger brother and a younger sister, and when it was my turn to be the main caregiver I did the best any kid could do. One day I left home, well I was kicked out, but I ended up putting myself into the system of foster care, and lived with a family I had known from the hood. While I never felt like I truly belonged, I at least felt safe at night and knew that someone cared what happened to me. Two things that lacked in my life as far back as I can remember.

I tried to take care of my youner siblings as I grew up, and tried to make sure they had what they might need when I knew my mom drank or smoked the grocery money again. It was so hard to watch them deal with her fully submerged into her addictions, lack of interest in their lives, and the dwindling ability to even parent in the smallest of ways. So it pains me that tonight I made the desicion to completely cut myself from their lives, fully.

Years ago I realized my mom would never be my mom. Part of me knows when she dies that ever so small bit of me that is 4 years old and remembers her singing in the church choir who still wishes she had a safe place to run to when life feels big, will also die with her. It’s going to be a final root pull, and I know it’s going to sting. What stings now though, is a part of me had hoped once all of my siblings grew up we could connect and maybe be there for each other when life felt too big. Only… it hasn’t happend that way. The root has been pulled.

My moms addiction cost me a lot growing up a lot growing up, and it’s cost me a lot as an adult. Less, but it’s still cost me. I can trace my inability to feel connected to people, yet longing for connection, to my mom. I can trace my inability to trust people, and always waiting for people to walk away from my life to my mom as well, and it’s the one that has cost me the most in my adulthood because instead of waiting for people to leave, I just go first. It hurts less, yet it’s a lot like banging my head against a wall while wishing someone would just put their arms around me and hold me so close that my head can’t help but rest against their chest instead of hitting the wall. I get that continuing those patterns have been ultimately my choice, but when you’re taught how to survive it’s scary to let go of the things you felt have been keeping you afloat even if in reality it’s been a brick around your feet.

I think the hardest though has been the loss of family. I have so many sibilings, and I only have one that I communicate with sporadically. I have watched the cycle of addiction rob some, while others have learned the very things I have only to push family away as well. For the longest time I tried to understand that dynamic and allowed the space between us in hopes that somehow it would heal, but it hasn’t. I’ve allowed myself to be open to being hurt by them, because I understood they were damaged by the same hands that hurt me, even though some of their choices have hurt me.  Tonight though.. I am done.

My mom is in the hospital, again. I’ve come to terms that she might not make it, though I am convinced at times this woman is somehow a living M. Night Shamalayn script and no matter the level of abuse she inflicts upon others or herself she will come out walking. My brother reached out to me to tell me, but that was about it. I won’t go into details about what took place in conversation between my brother and myself tonight, but it was enough to make me realize that there will never be enough time that passes that will heal the damage my mom created, the disconnection.. the inability to be a haven for each other. I came to terms with the reality that I am truly without any immediate family in my siblings, and I feel even more alone tonight owning that realization.

I know I have kids, and I know I have connection, but it’s really not the same. All my relationships play a part in my life separately. My children are my children, and my siblings are my siblings. Well, until tonight I guess.

I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m alive, and I’m feeling like I’ve been kicked back to square one and now I need to make the step to the other side of the street and forget about where this sidewalk could have taken me. I guess depending which way I look at it, either I am truly getting closure, or finally realizing that I am without family. Maybe it’s both. Who knows.. hopefully this will pass and tomorrow I will not feel so on my own, but I amight as well own the pity party and ride the wave of emotions that I need to so I can move on from this finality.

** I keep trying to post the song I feel right now, which is Keith Urban Tonight I Want To Cry, but this keeps popping up. No clue why, but whatever. I guess it’s meant to be posted. Or I’m too lazy to try and figure out why.. you choose.






My Big Fat Life – Break On Me

In Uncategorized on January 19, 2016 at 11:38 am

Gabriel update – Things seem to be going okay. It’s hard for me to tell what’s normal and what isn’t since I’ve never seen a normal healing from heart surgery with him. It was a complicated result last time, so I am hoping this time continues to go without any major hurdles. He is almost completely off the prednisone, I think this is his last week, so I guess the real test of how well the surgery worked will be in the weeks after he finally goes off completely.

Like last time, I have been questioning my life and where it’s going. It’s difficult to not when I watch one of my children go through something so big. It’s not about making sure I am on the right track for me, but for them as well. I’ve started to deal with my weight gain, something that I put on the shelf after I got together with the ex, and it feels really good to start moving around again in a positive way. I gave up soda and trying the water thing which isn’t a natural transition for me. Water just grosses me out.

The other thing I am working on, is owning my emotions. Anyone who knows a writer, knows that the one thing we tend to do is hold our emotions in, process them, and often how we hear the result in our mind is a dramatic reading of a dramatic screenplay. We just feel things to the core. It’s not something that is always an easy thing to convey into words, oddly, and at times keeps me from being able to audibly describe the maze of emotions I am trying to navigate. Because of this, there are many times I have just let things become a pathway that leads to a dead end. I’ve had to create so much closure in my own in life, that it’s become a natural response to walk into a dead end and instead of looking at it as the wrong path, I look at it as another moment I need to create the ending of a story. I’m so sick of that, and I’m trying not to keep repeating that ending. I’ve had to ask myself why it is I even do it to begin with, and the best I can come up with is as I mentioned before, it’s just something I have had to do in my life to survive and move on, and I’m terrified of being vulnerable to the idea that the turning around and looking for a different way might lead to another dead end. That might seem like an easy thing to do, but to actively do so involves being open and talking and all that other stuff that I am certain will lead to people being sick of me which is probably the single most thing I have to actively work on learning is a lie I heard years ago. I hate to play the blame game here, but my mom alwys used to tell me that I was her worst child and she didn’t have one functional relationship in her life because people hated me. It’s not always easy to remove the belief from your mind that you were fed on a regular basis, but of course I know now that nothing worked for her because she was a crazy insane woman who drove people away, even her children…. but that is another therapy session. Anyways, I am working on it even though it’s a terrifying thing. Sometimes the sound of my own voice is like catching a glimpse of your shadow against the street light on a dimly lit street and letting out a gasp until you realize it’s just you and it’s okay.

One thing I have to say is that I feel safe in the place I am. I love the man I am with, and when I feel like I hit a dead end, I trust I can take his hand and wherever I am I feel safe with him. No one has ever made me feel so completely safe before and for the first time in my life I feel like I can be myself and still be loved. It’s such an awesome thing since I’ve spent a lot of time trying to be the right thing for other people, and here I am with someone that I don’t even feel like I have to try to be anything other than myself.

(disclaimer.. I didn’t edit this entry because I am running late to run a few errands. Take this as a living example of how I am just learning to embrace my imperfections with courage and trust you’ll still like me even though I suck at typing)