Jeggings: Hue Original Jean Legging in Apricot
Headband: Anthropologie Amabel Headband
"Isolation..." - Beck
As I'm sure you are all well aware, I've been phoning this shit in for awhile now. At some point along the way, I got scared, scared of sharing my raw, unfiltered thoughts on here. I mean, I put up a good fight for a time there, but eventually it all just got to be too much. I got lazy. It's tiresome sharing your life with the masses - your real life, mind you, and not the fake, pretty one that's full of cherry-picked moments. I felt a constant need to defend myself and my actions, probably because I wasn't sure of myself or my actions. How could I be when I've never had any kind of real support system?
The past few months I've entered a phase in my life of self-discovery. Maybe I'm immature and should have gone through this shit in my twenties. I guess I'm a late bloomer. Whatever. I pretty much walked around like a zombie throughout my twenties, letting everyone else make my decisions and popping out a baby every few years. Besides, someone once said that the late blooms have the richest hue... Anyway, I've had an awakening of sorts. I've been doing a lot of soul searching and have been trying to figure out why I'm so fucked up about so many things.
I hate to be all cliché' and blame it all on my parents, but, damn if I don't blame a lot of it on them. Maybe blame is not the right word. I don't know if there is a right word. Basically, I'm trying to understand where they went wrong in order to better myself. I get that this parenting thing is shaky at best. You do what you think is right and try not to fuck the kids up too much. I forgive them for all the ways they failed me, and I love them unconditionally. The problem is they don't forgive me, they don't love me unconditionally, and they don't admit that they have ever done anything wrong.
This awakening was brought about because, once again, my parents aren't speaking to me, and this time it's for the stupidest fucking reason. I won't get into the details to protect the perpetually innocent. The details don't really matter anyway, because there is no reason why my parents should just pretend I don't exist. I can't really describe the mind fuck that it is to be rejected by your parents. I mean, I've been through it before, countless times, but for some damn reason, it never gets easier. You'd think I'd be numb to it by now, but no. I feel extremely isolated. Like, if my own parents can't love me then who the hell can?
I have no one in my life that I can talk to that can relate to me on this topic. Jerry and my friends didn't have perfect relationships with their parents, but they didn't have this. I have a sister, so you would think I could talk to her about it, and I have. Problem is, she's got a dog in this fight. What I mean is that she understands and sympathizes with me that our parents are fucked up, but she needs them for certain things so she's got to keep them close. The reality is that she benefits from any estrangement I have with my parents.
So, without a person to really turn to, I've been turning to websites and books. Those have been real eye opening. I'm no psychiatrist, but the explanation that I relate to the most is that my parents are narcissistic. I find that really ironic, because I've had numerous commenters on this blog call me just that. Maybe I am. I feel pretty certain that my parents are, so I guess I'm genetically predisposed to it or something. The thing is, I don't do half the things that good little narcissists are suppose to do, but my parents do almost all of them.
"The narcissistic mother criticizes and hides behind a veneer of martyrdom when her child needs her support." This description had me in tears when I read it because, save for a few traits, it is a spot-on description of my mom. She's more of manipulative narcissists. In order to get me to do as she wishes, she uses negative reinforcement and other mind games.
"They lie to get out of emotional responsibility." My dad's more of a straightforward narcissists. He only cares about himself and doesn't want anything to inconvenience him. He'll lie, hurt my feelings, and do whatever else it takes to get out of something he doesn't really feel like doing. It's all about him all the time.
"There are narcissistic parents who deny their children's existence by insisting their children be and do what THEY want, and there are those who deny their children's existence by simply ignoring their children altogether." Both of my parents do both of these things interchangeably. Right now, they are doing the later. It hurts, but at least I have a name for it now. At least I know it's not me. It's them.
I've ordered a book called, "Will I Ever Be Good Enough?" I've been waiting patiently for it to arrive for a week now, but as fate would have it, it hasn't. Amazon says it was delivered days ago, but it's no where to be found. It would seem that life is saying, "Fuck you for trying to help yourself." Or maybe my mom somehow intercepted it...or maybe her prayer warriors have struck again...I don't know. What I do know is that I'm determined to unlock the mystery that is me, to forgive myself for not being the daughter my parents wished I was, to love my true self, and to be a better woman for it.