Not Your Typical Thanksgiving Post

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Is it sort of sad that I am blogging on Thanksgiving? Perhaps, but maybe this is something I've needed to write about anyway. I have the time to, because my Thanksgiving plans have gone slightly awry today. I don't have a happy, stable, golly-gee- let's- gather- round-the-turkey-and-give-thanks sort of family. My family is totally jacked up, and it sucks. G, a friend, and myself were supposed to go to my parents for dinner today. I conquered a culinary fear this week and made a pumpkin roulade for dessert, which I will post about eventually as well. Everything seemed to be all ready to go, but then my mother decided to have a meltdown and they cancelled the whole thing.

See, my mother is bipolar, and who knows what other issues she might have that are undiagnosed or have been mistakenly treated throughout the years. Being an only child, I grew up walking on eggshells, in constant fear, and was the recipient of utterly insane emotional, mental, what-have-you abuse and craziness. Sometimes I'd wished she would just hit me so I'd have some proof of what I was going through. Most of my friends growing up thought she was great and fun, if only a little eccentric, and thought I was just a brat for being depressed and sullen. There was no way I could explain if they weren't there to experience the whole cycle. I have a lot of trouble with duality and contradictions in people because my mother was often like two different people. For a long time I had immense trouble reconciling that the person who could take me to ballet class, help me with school projects, make Christmas magical, and be our homeroom mother could be the same person who would call me awful names, wake me in the middle of the night just to scream at me, lock me in closets if my presence offended her, look at me and smile viciously when the things she said made me cry, be the person I feared to be alone with when my dad went off to work and never did much to stop her. Sometimes I wondered if she did it on purpose, if it wasn't quite the mental illness talking, how she could turn it on and off at times to suit her purposes. This made it hurt even more. So many wrongs I've had to simply repress in my mind in order to maintain some sense of normalcy, because she will simply pretend nothing happened and if you don't as well, it will all start over again. And I really want a normal family, so I just push it down and attempt to move on.

It has been so much better since I moved out, at least now I have a choice and a way to get away if she flips out (which can happen at any time, for any reason, or no reason at all. Her paranoia and sense of entitlement knows no bounds.). She doesn't go off as much with me present because she knows I can leave. Much of the time she is "okay" as long as you handle her with kid gloves. But for whatever reason she decided she couldn't handle making dinner and probably invented some excuse to have a temper tantrum. So my dad came over last night, so miserable and downtrodden, in pain and barely able to walk from two extremely bad knees, telling me he was sorry but it just wasn't going to happen. I love my dad, even though he is a weak person and endured her cruelty for way too long. But while he has made his bed for the time being, I have not. I don't care if they call today and say she has calmed down and to come over after all. I won't do it. It's bad enough that I dealt with it for 30 years, I'm not going to expose her to G or my friend S. They've already seen too much already and I won't reward or enable her behavior. So G,  S, and I are on our own today. We'll go out to eat later, and have the desserts I made. And it will be just fine. Not the traditional, ideal family gathering, but I am thankful to have it. You can't choose your biological family, and sometimes they aren't the best for you. Sometimes you have to make your own family, a patchwork quilt of people that enrich you, accept you, and make you a better version of yourself. I can't let my past drag me down any more. Onwards and upwards.









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2 comments :

  1. Great words...
    "Sometimes you have to make your own family, a patchwork quilt of people that enrich you, accept you, and make you a better version of yourself."

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks for reading-I totally just needed to vent!

    ReplyDelete

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