When I was a kid, every Christmas was spent with my grandparents. The entire week of winter break, save for Christmas eve and Christmas morning, when I would be home so Santa could come. But Christmas day, my bags were packed, and when my family went to my Grandparents house to celebrate with the other 20+ aunts uncles and cousins… I was left there that night. Just me and my grandparents. And I would stay there until winter break was through. I loved Christmas. Seeing all of my family. My cousins and I would play cops and robbers, or hide and seek… Tell stories, play cards… We LOVED each other. That changed.
Many of you know my family is a little… “messed up”…. Yeah… who’s isn’t, right? I’ll not argue and let you claim yours is worse than mine. I’m not going to try and convince you otherwise. I know better. Everyone always thinks their family is worse. So, I’m not going to get into a pissing contest with you here. I’m just trying to illustrate a fact. My family does not a friendly environment make. When I was a child with blind love…? sure… Now...? Not so much. And it’s left me “homesick”. I wish things could be the way the once were. Playing with the cousins, laughing and celebrating. Eating good food. Drinking Eggnog. Hugging my grandparents. That isn’t going to happen. It all changed. And I can pinpoint when it started to.
The day of my parent’s car accident. Christmas Eve 1995. The Christmas my parents never came home. The Christmas no one knew what to say to me, so I sat alone while the family celebrated tensely in the other room. I was one of the oldest of the cousins. They didn’t know how to handle the turn of events any better than the rest of them. So they avoided me that Christmas. It was understandable. But like I said… It was only the start.
Things became much much worse when my family decided to “quietly” disown me. For those of you that don’t know what a “quiet” disownment is… it’s when the family as a whole decides you are no longer worthy of their time. I’m no longer family, but the reason for their decision is too heinous to recognize or speak of that I simply don’t exist unless a piece of juicy gossip is needed or I show up. You become the scapegoat, and are the fall back conversation piece. Never invited to any of the gatherings, but always “welcome”……. The reason they decide to treat you this way shall never be mentioned, but they will find other ways to tip toe around it and cut into you every chance they are given. Weight, money, children…. Etc… And on occasion they will find themselves bold enough to whisper a scripture or two in your direction. But NEVER will they come right out and say that they know your secret, or know that you know it too… Never will they admit that they no longer wish to associate with you. Everything is fine, and you simply have to sit there and take their judgments silently, praying none of them finds a box of matches and kindling since you know they would secretly rather do nothing but burn you at the stake.
Yup… I love me the Holidays.
This year, it’s funny. I was actually looking forward to seeing these people. I’ve lost a lot of weight since last we met, and as my weight has always been a hot topic point… Well… It’s not just the weight. I have learned a lot in the past year, and my confidence is off the charts. (My own personal charts anyhow.) I’ve let them bully me for far too long. And this year? My friend Callan was going to be at my side lending me strength. I was going to go in with my head held high and come out the same. It was just a week or so before Christmas that I even found out about my grandmother flying in for Christmas, and the family gathering for it. My mother informed me. It wasn’t until Christmas Eve that I found out, we were not going after all. And it wasn’t until Christmas morning that I realized… I never actually received an invite, only the usual, expected to be there with my parents when/if they show… well… damn…
That’s okay. I’m sure they had a great time exchanging prescription pill bottles and talking about horrible sinners without me.
So, I didn’t go anywhere for Christmas. Hell I hardly got out of bed, save for a quick shower, a load or two of laundry, reheating some leftovers and watching a movie. Nope… didn’t even open presents. They are still sitting under my tree. I just don’t care to open them while in this mood. Especially not after opening my “early” presents.
The art of gift giving.
Anyone that knows me is sure to know I don’t give a shit about presents. I like giving them WAY more than receiving them. It’s best that way. I’m a very difficult person to please when it comes to giving gifts. It’s because I’m just not a materialistic person. I don’t care about physical objects. Once upon a time I dated a boy named Tim. (I have every right to call him a boy, we were teenagers. Just kids.) I tend to dub all of my love interests of past with little titles, so some of you may know Tim best as “present guy”. His family was well off, and every time he saw me he had this annoying habit of having a present to give me. But each gift usually had nothing to do with me, or my interests. He had a brilliant mind and an enormous heart, but if I had to accept one more piece of jewelry or flower I was going to rip my hair out. So ended the relationship. As brilliant as the boy was, he didn’t understand that I didn’t want anything, and even less that receiving things that proved he didn’t know me or the things I liked was pushing me away. Roses remind me of funerals. Not something I wish to get on Valentine’s.
By now, everyone is aware of the goddamn porcelain penguin I got last year, I’m sure. If not. Ask me directly. Or go back and sift through last year’s blogs. Particularly the one about the queen of passive aggressiveness. My mother gave it to me as a way of showing how much she disproved of my divorcing and telling me I would be receiving no help from her whatsoever. Well…. That opinion seemed to have changed. (Thank God for short attention spans I guess.) Maybe she finally remembered how much help I’ve been giving her over the last decade…. Then again… maybe with the MS and the Drugs, she just forgot she’s angry with me.
Either way. My present this year was… Not to seem ungrateful… but… It blew. I received a Cabbage Patch doll. Yup. Along with a, “I couldn’t afford to get you one when you were little, but I could get you one now.”
Well, I politely smiled, feigned enthusiasm, and tucked it back in the bag where it wouldn’t get damaged. My mind reeled putting together the train of logic. So… you can afford to give me the things I want now… but aren't going to, because you'd rather give me something I no longer have any interest in….. because, it will make YOU feel better about the past, and not me? To me, it only further proves that you don’t know anything about me, my life, my interests, or passions. One glance at my geeky apartment will tell you that I have no interest in dolls unless Star Wars themed. The only reason I ever wanted a Cabbage Patch doll when growing up was because my cousin had one and I wanted to play with him. And you need only reread the top section to know how well he and I get along now.
I despise clutter and possessing unnecessary items. I lived too many years that way. What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing other than put it in storage, where it does nothing but take up space and collect dust? It’s not about not getting what I wanted. Because I really don’t want anything. But getting things I DON’T want… She didn’t give it to me for me… She gave it to me for her. To make herself feel better about a past when she neglected and mistreated me. The same reason she recently offered to tell me who my father was. Not because she wants me to know, or even the fact that she feels I have a right to. No… She flat out told me the only reason she was offering was because she wants my forgiveness for refusing to tell me in the past. (points for honesty I suppose) Not knowing my father was something I had put behind me. I had closed that painful chapter at last, and without reflecting on how it would make me feel she reopened a cornucopia of wounds because she felt a need to be forgiven? Of all the selfish… I still haven’t made up my mind on whether or not to take her up on the offer… but hey… at least I get to sit here and think about him every waking minute again. (insert explicative of your choice here)
But I’ve come to expect this behavior from my mother. As well as others. And this next bit??? Sorry. No bars held. I’m pissed and this is going to hurt some.
Careful when marking your territory boys, I don’t take kindly to being pissed on.
Speaking of selfish motives disguised as “kind” acts… I’m an author. Not a very good one… but I like to write and plan on keeping it up. I had a very sincere problem with feeling my husband did not support me in my writing. But that is between he and I. No one else. And just as the same as too little support can be problematic, so too can be too much.
Questions come into play on whether it’s the writing that you are supporting or Me. And further questions come into play as to why. Are you actually trying to be supportive, or are you trying to earn hero points in order to win something over that cannot be won?
I have recently had two friends get into an argument on my fan sight. Maybe both were in a bad mood that day. Maybe they didn’t get each other’s jokes and took things too far. Maybe there was something more behind it. Regardless of cause reason or other:
ONE, I do not need friends fighting friends! I will not get in the middle of it!
TWO, I am so tired of this crappy drama and especially didn’t need it on Christmas! Especially if I directly asked you to NOT make jokes or warned you that it would piss people off.
THREE, banning people from fan pages because you don’t like them is not helpful to the cause. Is the fan page there for you or for the fans?
FOUR, I don’t need battles fought for me, which is what I suspect may have been happening. I am my own champion! Thank you!
Plain and simple, I just want to be given some space. Learn to be mature about it and get along without me. I do not choose between friends or sides. Never have never will. If you want to start measuring dicks, I will not be the one holding the tape measure.
Have a good rest of your year. Here’s to a hopefully better start of the next.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
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