I'll start this off with a bit of explanation about me.
Some of my traits lend themselves well to being both negative and positive. They're positive because they keep me focused and working hard, yet they're negative because other people often don't know how to respond to them. They also serve to remind others that I am a person with my own feelings and needs, that I won't lay down quietly and take bad treatment from others. Much of it is due to how I was treated in the past; my feelings and wants were disregarded, so now I redouble my efforts to make sure they're taken into consideration. Sadly, it also can mean that I tend to react more harshly when I feel others are pushing my buttons or treating me badly, no matter how innocuous their intentions. I have to be blunt: If I feel like I'm being disrespected or treated badly, I will very likely be triggered and I will very likely react accordingly. I hate that I'm currently wired like this, and I plan to work on trying to defuse those wires so I can react less extremely. CSUN has great resources for mental health/counseling that I plan to take advantage of now that I'm in an environment where I feel I belong and can thrive.
Justin, however, is still a sticking point that just doesn't seem to have an easy remedy. I'm not sure he fully realizes just how triggering a lot of his behavior is for me (at least, I hope he doesn't. I don't think I could handle it if he knew he was being triggering and behaved that way anyway). But the fact is, a lot of his behaviors push my 'trigger' buttons, then he throws it in my face that I 'have issues' that he can't deal with. Sadly, telling me I'm 'overreacting' does essentially nothing to help matters, and only will get me angrier. (Hey, YOU try reacting perfectly rationally when someone tells you you're overreacting when your buttons are pushed and you're upset.) I think the toughest part is when he knows I'm hurt, yet he refuses to show empathy. Even just saying 'sorry things are rough; hang in there, they'll get better' or some variant thereof can be a help. Or even just apologizing for something that was misconstrued. My parents wouldn't show much empathy when they hurt me, or they would show very shallow and false empathy but never change their behavior to prevent it from happening again.
I've been giving him the benefit of the doubt here. A lot of people don't always fully realize when they trigger someone, especially when that 'someone' has dealt with invisible trauma and is healing from it. My transitional period is over, and now I feel I can heal much more deeply than I could during the first 8 months. I don't get the feeling he's doing any of it maliciously, but more because he doesn't understand how better to handle things. I always ask him to be sensitive, but I don't think he knows how to do so without a bit of help. I really want to help him to help me, so to speak. I want to help him be able to navigate my moods and my touchy spots so as to make things easier on both of us, just as I've been trying to do for him.
Of course, as much as it pains me to have to do, I also have to acknowledge that he just might plain hate me. I'm used to that, dealing with it from my parents, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I've told him if he hates me, it's no issue for me to disappear. I won't stay where I'm not wanted, and I'm good as disappearing from those sort of situations. I've wanted him to succeed, wanted to be supportive, wanted to see him succeed, and wanted him to see what a success I'll become. But if he hates me, then I can't do that. I genuinely miss his company, miss just spending quiet time with him, even if just watching a movie and talking. But I won't force myself into his company if he hates me. I miss him so much that I'm crying a bit as I write this, but I won't stay if he doesn't want me to.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Non-freewrite Update: My current status and state of being
This isn't a freewrite. Rather, it's an update as to my current feelings and status. (Freewrite is forthcoming.)
In short, all systems worked out, and I have begun my first semester as a University student. I am at CSU Northridge pursuing a Bachelor's in Public Health Education, I live in a nice place a couple miles from campus, and so far things are good.
Wait. Things are actually GREAT. I love my living arrangements. I live in a large home with a bunch of other people (the majority of whom are CSUN students), and it's a great environment to live in while I study. I'm already a bit more sociable with people, and I'm enjoying sitting out in the common areas and watching TV or using my Netbook, rather than sitting in a room doing nothing. Everyone here is awesome, we're all supportive of one another, and it's just a great space to relax and study in. I can see myself sticking around here for a while.
As for University, lemme tell you something. It felt AMAZING to set foot on campus yesterday. I really felt like I'd found my niche, felt like I was right where I belonged. When I was going to Cypress, I felt very 'ehhhh' about being there. It just didn't feel like I was supposed to be there. But I definitely feel like I have a place at CSUN, even if it is a huge University, and I can see myself doing some good here. Go me.
In short, all systems worked out, and I have begun my first semester as a University student. I am at CSU Northridge pursuing a Bachelor's in Public Health Education, I live in a nice place a couple miles from campus, and so far things are good.
Wait. Things are actually GREAT. I love my living arrangements. I live in a large home with a bunch of other people (the majority of whom are CSUN students), and it's a great environment to live in while I study. I'm already a bit more sociable with people, and I'm enjoying sitting out in the common areas and watching TV or using my Netbook, rather than sitting in a room doing nothing. Everyone here is awesome, we're all supportive of one another, and it's just a great space to relax and study in. I can see myself sticking around here for a while.
As for University, lemme tell you something. It felt AMAZING to set foot on campus yesterday. I really felt like I'd found my niche, felt like I was right where I belonged. When I was going to Cypress, I felt very 'ehhhh' about being there. It just didn't feel like I was supposed to be there. But I definitely feel like I have a place at CSUN, even if it is a huge University, and I can see myself doing some good here. Go me.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Freewrite 8/21: Further nails
In one of my blog posts last month, I talked about my last chat with Mom, and how low she made me feel when I was doing exactly what she always wanted me to do. Well, I now have reasons to add more nails to her proverbial coffin.
Ever since I moved out back in December, I had meant to get back in touch with my grandmother. Mom had mentioned it, Aunt Mary Lou had mentioned it, and it was on my mind quite a bit. I finally decided to do so. While talking to my aunt and catching up on things with her (She's doing well, by the by. Chemo's been rough on her, but she's handling it as well as she can.), I asked her if she could give me my grandmother's phone number, since my weird memory has her address memorized, but it refuses to store her number. Needless to say, she was happy to give it to me, and I gave my grandmother a call.
My grandmother was incredibly happy (and relieved!) to hear from me, since it had been so long since I'd last talked to her. She then told me that Mom was essentially badmouthing me to her whenever the two of them would talk. It got to the point that my grandmother yelled at her for essentially abandoning me when I needed her the most. She didn't share specifics about what Mom was saying about me, but from her voice and her words it couldn't have been anything good.
...Yeah, that sound you heard? That was the sound of my feeling like I was slapped in the face. I've grieved leaving (never regretted it!), wanted to keep some sort of communication open with her, maybe even reestablish some sort of relationship. Now, I wouldn't spit on either of them if they were on fire. After how abhorrently she and Dad behaved toward me, I would have thought eight months would be enough time for her to accept my choices and be more accepting of me. Apparently some people have nothing better to do than stew in their bitterness; not that it matters to me since I no longer have to personally put up with it.
I will say this. I love how my grandmother stepped up and supported me. I admit, I'd been a bit leery of talking to her because I worried she would have heard the whole deal from Mom and thought I should try reconciling with her. It is a HUGE relief to know that she is supportive of CSUN and that she encourages me to keep the 2.5-3 hour distance from Mom and Dad. It makes all of this hurt quite a bit less.
Ever since I moved out back in December, I had meant to get back in touch with my grandmother. Mom had mentioned it, Aunt Mary Lou had mentioned it, and it was on my mind quite a bit. I finally decided to do so. While talking to my aunt and catching up on things with her (She's doing well, by the by. Chemo's been rough on her, but she's handling it as well as she can.), I asked her if she could give me my grandmother's phone number, since my weird memory has her address memorized, but it refuses to store her number. Needless to say, she was happy to give it to me, and I gave my grandmother a call.
My grandmother was incredibly happy (and relieved!) to hear from me, since it had been so long since I'd last talked to her. She then told me that Mom was essentially badmouthing me to her whenever the two of them would talk. It got to the point that my grandmother yelled at her for essentially abandoning me when I needed her the most. She didn't share specifics about what Mom was saying about me, but from her voice and her words it couldn't have been anything good.
...Yeah, that sound you heard? That was the sound of my feeling like I was slapped in the face. I've grieved leaving (never regretted it!), wanted to keep some sort of communication open with her, maybe even reestablish some sort of relationship. Now, I wouldn't spit on either of them if they were on fire. After how abhorrently she and Dad behaved toward me, I would have thought eight months would be enough time for her to accept my choices and be more accepting of me. Apparently some people have nothing better to do than stew in their bitterness; not that it matters to me since I no longer have to personally put up with it.
I will say this. I love how my grandmother stepped up and supported me. I admit, I'd been a bit leery of talking to her because I worried she would have heard the whole deal from Mom and thought I should try reconciling with her. It is a HUGE relief to know that she is supportive of CSUN and that she encourages me to keep the 2.5-3 hour distance from Mom and Dad. It makes all of this hurt quite a bit less.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Freewrite 8/19 2/2: Privilege
I'll say it. I really hope Justin appreciates his family and their interest and support of him. I'm not saying that to be nasty, or sarcastic. I really do hope that every time he goes and sees them -regardless of the reason- that he really appreciates the privilege that he has.
In this morning's bout of insomnia, I thought about how incredibly cheated I feel as I start finalizing my CSUN gear-up. I thought about how so many people get support from their families as they move to a new school, starting something this new and exciting, and I don't have that. My parents can't be bothered to give more than the most cursory care about things, no matter how positive they are for me, and I doubt my sister is much better in that regard. And you know what? I'm far from the only one who is in a boat like this, who has had to climb out of their own personal hell, and has the broken nails to prove we clawed our way out.
I honestly feel incredibly scarred by the psychological wounds I've had to carry. I've been belittled, had my sense of self chiseled at, threatened, called names...I really could go on and on. I've had to carry those secrets internally, because I was told that a) no one would believe me, and b) I would lose all security (roof over my head and so on) if I said anything. Making that anecdote worse? I was threatened with the latter when I was sixteen years old. You read that right. I was psychologically forced through the wringer, then told I would be kicked out at sixteen if I said anything to anyone. More recently, I had to stand there the evening of December 21st and hear my own dad call me 'street person' to my face, and suggest I no longer deserved to sleep in a bed (he told me I was going to sleep in the garage). Making things worse, Mom's only response was to tell him I couldn't sleep in the garage because it was cold and stormy that night. No attitude of 'how could you say something like that to your own child'. That, coupled with my sister's hemming and hawing about letting me stay with her, cut that much deeper. And again, I know I'm far from the only one who has had to deal with circumstances like these, and others who have dealt with worse.
And that is the danger in privilege. It's the wool people pull over their eyes so they can deny problems around them. Justin is no exception. He uses his privilege as an excuse to look down on me for my purported 'issues', all the while refusing to deal with his own real issues. I don't care what justifications he spews, he has been deteriorating over the past several months. So many of us can see it, but he won't see it and refuses to do anything about it. All the while, he treats me progressively worse and worse, and I'm sick of it. I do what I can to help him out, and I get silence in return. I find talent jobs for him, support him as much as I can, and only really ask he do the same for me, but I get none of the same in return. I think of things that I know he wants to see or experience, and I work to include him, and again get none of the same in return.
I think what saddens me the most is I can't save him from his own privilege. I can only shake my head and watch him flounder and bury himself deeper. He's the only one who can save himself.
In this morning's bout of insomnia, I thought about how incredibly cheated I feel as I start finalizing my CSUN gear-up. I thought about how so many people get support from their families as they move to a new school, starting something this new and exciting, and I don't have that. My parents can't be bothered to give more than the most cursory care about things, no matter how positive they are for me, and I doubt my sister is much better in that regard. And you know what? I'm far from the only one who is in a boat like this, who has had to climb out of their own personal hell, and has the broken nails to prove we clawed our way out.
I honestly feel incredibly scarred by the psychological wounds I've had to carry. I've been belittled, had my sense of self chiseled at, threatened, called names...I really could go on and on. I've had to carry those secrets internally, because I was told that a) no one would believe me, and b) I would lose all security (roof over my head and so on) if I said anything. Making that anecdote worse? I was threatened with the latter when I was sixteen years old. You read that right. I was psychologically forced through the wringer, then told I would be kicked out at sixteen if I said anything to anyone. More recently, I had to stand there the evening of December 21st and hear my own dad call me 'street person' to my face, and suggest I no longer deserved to sleep in a bed (he told me I was going to sleep in the garage). Making things worse, Mom's only response was to tell him I couldn't sleep in the garage because it was cold and stormy that night. No attitude of 'how could you say something like that to your own child'. That, coupled with my sister's hemming and hawing about letting me stay with her, cut that much deeper. And again, I know I'm far from the only one who has had to deal with circumstances like these, and others who have dealt with worse.
And that is the danger in privilege. It's the wool people pull over their eyes so they can deny problems around them. Justin is no exception. He uses his privilege as an excuse to look down on me for my purported 'issues', all the while refusing to deal with his own real issues. I don't care what justifications he spews, he has been deteriorating over the past several months. So many of us can see it, but he won't see it and refuses to do anything about it. All the while, he treats me progressively worse and worse, and I'm sick of it. I do what I can to help him out, and I get silence in return. I find talent jobs for him, support him as much as I can, and only really ask he do the same for me, but I get none of the same in return. I think of things that I know he wants to see or experience, and I work to include him, and again get none of the same in return.
I think what saddens me the most is I can't save him from his own privilege. I can only shake my head and watch him flounder and bury himself deeper. He's the only one who can save himself.
Freewrite 8/19 1/2: Hope
As I sat trying to unsuccessfully clear my head enough to sleep, I started pondering things. Two in particular occurred to me.
The 22nd of this month is a pretty big milestone for this girl. My 8-month healing milestone. Yup, it will have been 8 months ago on the 22nd of this month that I was able to leave the toxic environment that I had been in for my entire life. I've never held any illusions that it would be easy, or fun, or any other little cutting mockeries that have been tossed at me; believe me, 'fun' is one of the last words I would use to describe the process. I've learned a lot about myself and what I'm capable of, as well as just how strong I can be. Things can really only go up from here, and it's a ride I'm looking forward to taking.
The other? A topic for the next post. It warrants its own separate entry, believe me.
The 22nd of this month is a pretty big milestone for this girl. My 8-month healing milestone. Yup, it will have been 8 months ago on the 22nd of this month that I was able to leave the toxic environment that I had been in for my entire life. I've never held any illusions that it would be easy, or fun, or any other little cutting mockeries that have been tossed at me; believe me, 'fun' is one of the last words I would use to describe the process. I've learned a lot about myself and what I'm capable of, as well as just how strong I can be. Things can really only go up from here, and it's a ride I'm looking forward to taking.
The other? A topic for the next post. It warrants its own separate entry, believe me.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Freewrite 8/2: Further cutting
Adding onto my prior posting about cutting Justin off...
Becky and I have been talking and hashing things out. And we're both done. Finished. Fed up with how he's treating us both. He still refuses to treat me with any sort of respect, refuses to act toward me like the friend he promised he would be, and he treats Becky as though she's a toy to him. When he's called on it, he answers with excuses and whining, but no action. And we're both tired of it. We're tired of his games, we're tired of his lacking respect...all of it.
So from here on out, she and I both are cutting him off. As with my own decision, if he actually gets his head out of his ass and starts treating us with decency and respect, then we'll consider letting him back into our lives. But this is getting us nowhere. And it hurts. It really hurts to watch him keep burying himself with no desire to change his circumstances. But we can't save him. I can't save him. He has to do the job himself, has to admit that he has major problems and needs help with them. Until he does, he'll just keep drowning in his own stagnation, always whining and making excuses about why he isn't a success. All the while, he'll blame other people for his own failings, never taking responsibility for his own actions.
And we're done. Done watching him drown himself with no struggle to free himself from his own problems. Maybe if he admits to his problems and works on bettering himself we'll be back. Until then, we aren't holding our collective breath.
Becky and I have been talking and hashing things out. And we're both done. Finished. Fed up with how he's treating us both. He still refuses to treat me with any sort of respect, refuses to act toward me like the friend he promised he would be, and he treats Becky as though she's a toy to him. When he's called on it, he answers with excuses and whining, but no action. And we're both tired of it. We're tired of his games, we're tired of his lacking respect...all of it.
So from here on out, she and I both are cutting him off. As with my own decision, if he actually gets his head out of his ass and starts treating us with decency and respect, then we'll consider letting him back into our lives. But this is getting us nowhere. And it hurts. It really hurts to watch him keep burying himself with no desire to change his circumstances. But we can't save him. I can't save him. He has to do the job himself, has to admit that he has major problems and needs help with them. Until he does, he'll just keep drowning in his own stagnation, always whining and making excuses about why he isn't a success. All the while, he'll blame other people for his own failings, never taking responsibility for his own actions.
And we're done. Done watching him drown himself with no struggle to free himself from his own problems. Maybe if he admits to his problems and works on bettering himself we'll be back. Until then, we aren't holding our collective breath.
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