Mildewing into a gentle obscurity.
I am losing my sight, and my hearing. I am not as fast as I used to be. Whole days go by and I don't remember them. Facts drop through my brain like a potted petunia falling through the sky.
I am getting older, and definitely not getting prettier. I am closer to dying with every breath I take.
But I am free.
So I consider myself much more blessed now as a doddering old fool, than the young, bright, beautiful girl, living in my childhood cage of animalistic fear, I used to be.
It's fall again, and that means this weird mix of feelings, of uncertainty and doubt, rejection and bitterness, loss and yearning, holding onto grievances and to grief. It's me feeling resentful of the world at one moment and then insecure of where I stand the next. Our priest at the Zen temple asked us what we do when we encounter edges. One guy, who I suspect was high, talked about sweeping edges away like in a drawing, softening them. I vacillate between wanting to sweep them away and wanting to hold onto them, make me bleed. I said that I wanted to remember that feelings don't last forever, even this feeling, this feeling right now.
The reason for grace is existence. Marilynne Robinson writes that. If someone exists, no matter what they have done to you, no matter what obligations (you believe) they have failed to live up to, their existence presupposes grace. From a snail to a human and indeed, to a mom. God’s grace extends without parsimony.
I have so much to learn, and I have failed every step of the way, but I’m still trying.
As always around this time of year, my mom begged to buy me a birthday present and my mind started racing with all the things we can't afford.
Two outdoors rocking chairs from Cracker Barrel? ($400)
A baby alpaca wool blanket from Peruvian Connection which I had as a teenager and somehow misplaced? ($300)
Velvet black kitten pumps I've been dying to get to finally cinch my office outfits??? ($$$)
I thought for a really long time and decided to not get anything.
I finally understand why my brother refuses even gifts from my mom. It would ruin my enjoyment of the thing.
I realize how wrong I have been about my ideas regarding expectations from friends and from loved ones. I also am slowly taking in the bitter truth that unlearning my parents' beliefs isn't something that happens in a year, but over a lifetime.
...CONTENT WARNING: ABUSE
My dad was a severely warped and disturbed individual. His fragile ego couldn't take anything but constant pampering from his family and a "perfect" son and daughter that would make him look good in front of strangers. Anything less than "perfection" or constant adulation would result in instant punishment, from his body language (clenched jaw, tight fist, red face, like he wanted to hit us but was barely holding it in) to his tone and words (yelling, threatening to do things to us) to actual physical pain (he loved to do things that wouldn't leave marks like pinch and screw up the skin on our forearm, the back of our hands, tug our hair, tug our ears, etc.)
He had several house rules. Breaking these house rules would result in threatening, yelling, and physical punishment. These house rules included (a) no using the bathroom during long car trips, (b) showing up to dinner on time - by the minute - if you weren't there when dinner was called for, you would be punished, (c) waking up on time - if I didn't wake up 9am every Saturday, I would be punished, (d) charging your cellphone - if I didn't charge your cellphone the night before, I would be punished. Of course, he had the sole authority to continue making up house rules.
He demanded constant service from everyone in his domain. If you didn't respond with service immediately, you were a bad person, a bad child, lazy, ungrateful, and deserved to be punished.
To punish my mom for divorcing her, he started a 5-year long lawsuit on false grounds, likely knowing they were false, simply to drain her finances and emotionally distress her.
Growing up navigating in fear with his rules, in his world, he taught me three lessons about relationships (family, work, friendship, romantic):
(1) Relationships are made up of transactional obligations that the other party must fulfill immediately. If someone doesn't do their part, they're a terrible human being.
(2) There is no room for error.
(3) You should punish other people when they behave contrary to your expectations. They deserve punishment.
I thought these rules were ironclad rules of the world, growing up. It was really only when I left my family altogether and came to college that I realized that as a matter of fact, I was raised by a psycho and his enablers.
It took me a decade since my parents' divorce to even realize that the way he lived life was supremely fucked up, let alone try to unlearn the toxic attitudes he passed onto me.
I have vowed to begin my countereducation. My countereducation consists of this:
(1) A friendship describes a feeling awoken at any point in time of mutual regard, respect, and admiration. There is no obligation (eg. daily messages/phone calls, weekly meetings.) A romantic relationship might entail some obligation, but there is no obligation between friends, and "failing to meet some obligation" doesn't mean a person has betrayed you or stopped being your friend.
(2) Friendships are a safe space to mess up. Work relationships between coworkers are a safe space to mess up. You don't have to be perfect all the time. The other person doesn't have to be perfect all the time. It's OK for someone to mess up - the relationship can still continue and it doesn't merit "punishment."
(3) People deserve grace, not punishment, when they make mistakes.
I am just starting my countereducation and I'm sure there's lots more, but returning to my college (now as an administrator) has been really healthy for me, because this is where I first began to get an inkling that my parents' ways were ways of hatred and fear. Setting boundaries with my mom has been really healthy for me. I need to take it slow, forgive myself, and wait for the unlearning - the return to my true nature, not stained, not impure - that comes in the fullness of time.
And I still feel so much shame for being, basically, really fucked up socially as a result of absorbing my dad's behaviors. I'd like to pretend that I'm a normal person and I have attitudes of normal people, even to myself. My mom and aunt love to shame me about this too. Their favorite insult for me, when we fight, is "you're just like your dad."
But I am also coming to the realization that there isn't a need for me to feel shame. When I talked to a psychiatrist to see if I had clinical depression, she asked me about my childhood, and after hearing my answers she said that I am still recovering from my dad's abuse and that my recovering would never stop. I told her that of course I'm already recovered because it's been 10 years since the divorce. She told me that PTSD doesn't stop, and it's a lifelong journey.
Which kind of sucks, but OK.
I have to remember that some seasons are just going to be more difficult for me than others. I used to always love fall - it's my birthday season - but ever since my grandma (who I would argue was my primary caretaker) died around the middle of November in the first year of pandemic, I've blankly been passing through the entire month of November like I'm black out drunk. I come out pretty okay in December, but this year, I'm already starting to feel it on the first day of September. And there's that dread that I'm going to have a relapse, or a depressive episode, or whatever you want to call it, and this time I'm not going to be able to keep my job, keep functioning, etc.