I Used to Hope
I'm taking a turn. Realizing a few things. Mainly that it's over long before the fat lady sings and it's a good idea to leave the opera before the chandelier drops. I always knew things were just not right with my parents. I first tried to run away when I was 4 - mom helped me pack, and dad walked me 2 blocks down the street until I realized I had nowhere to go and I was forced to go back.
Forced.
People, that's not right. No one should be forced to live with anyone by the very nature of their own circumstances. Especially not children. I have not blogged many of the more horrific things I endured when I was growing up because I felt it would be in bad taste to air the worst of the dirty laundry. I still feel that, but I'll ask you here to simply trust me when I say that it really was that bad. If I had squealed as a kid, my parents would have made the evening news. I didn't squeal primarily for Jeff's sake, because in my presence, they treated him like gold. I didn't realize they saw him as their "big gold bar." I didn't realize that they likely have some mental health issues, that their view of reality was so distorted, and that their view even of right and wrong was so warped. Not until I was first reading through their "Statement" and later standing in that court with my mother.
I can't help any of this, and though being away from my parents has been the best thing for me, there is part of me that simply does wish things could have turned out differently. It never could have, I realize that now. Not only was it all bound to end really badly, but their attitudes/personalities have been the same all along, I just simply was unable to see it before, and it's like now I feel almost as if it's impossible to get used to. Aside from being in court this week, and hopefully whatever date/time the judge sets (if I'm allowed to be present) for moving my stuff out of their house, I'll never see either of them again. Yes, that's a good thing -- they are a serious liability to my life and livelihood, and always have been. Really, even to my soul. They nearly sucked the consciousness of myself right out of me, and it's only been in the last year or so that I've really become more aware of who I really am inside, what I'm worth, and what direction I'm going in life.
I'm so accustomed to "my parents are just royal pains" mode that the idea that I no longer have to deal with that, that this life is truly not theirs to influence now, is both relieving and it causes some daunting issues for me at this time. The housing issue, though it's been taken care of beautifully by loved ones who love me, has still been a difficult one to deal with, because I need a more permanent solution that keeps me near WWU, if that can possibly be worked out. The gas issue is worse, though people have been great about offering to fill my tank once in awhile, and have been giving me rides when they can. I've semi-solved this by putting as much gas as possible on my Chevron card, with the goal in mind of just paying the minimum this month and possibly next month, then paying larger chunks until it's all paid off. Even just getting my previous college loans deferred was no easy task, and I had to use gas to do it, etc. Applying to WWU so unexpectedly in the middle of the fall quarter for a program that only life itself has been preparing me for... Wow. It's a major turn. For the better, and I know I'll do well, but still...
Basically, I wish that my parents hadn't have been so utterly mean, dishonest, crude, judgmental, assumptive leading to vindictiveness, etc. I wish they had been more reasonable, that they had been more trusting and trustworthy, and that they hadn't have been such hypocrites. I wish they had been willing to face up to themselves, admit their faults, and actually bother, for real, to work on them. I wish they hadn't have assumed, since the time I was small, that I was some horrific person who would never be good enough for them. They harped on how we are all born bad and have to spend our whole lives trying to be good -- now I know why. And I have to believe what I told Erik out at the park something like a year and a half ago now, that people are really born good, and it's just growing up in a bad world, learning bad ways, that makes them (act) bad. Well, that's close to what I said. It's what I meant, at any rate.
But I can't have what I wish for. The best I can do is adopt new parents. I was musing to God and myself about that earlier today. I now have two sets to choose from, and Erik has always filled in wonderfully where my dad always failed me, and it's like I now have a lot of options open to me. Erik is my best friend, and I feel very sisterly toward him. He'll be walking me down the isle and will also be the officient at my wedding, because this is what I want and because it's what I wanted the day he offered to do that and I accepted. But Erik has never had his own children in the natural, human way. He's taught tons of students, and been like a father figure to many, but you know what I'm getting at. I'm glad for both Jack and Karina, as well as Doris and Ben, who I just recently met but who have taken me into their hearts and offered their home to me, rent free, until I'm on my feet. I have learned much and there is much more to learn, and I feel like I can only learn some things by watching people who've already parented babies through adults, who've learned the most valuable lessons already, because I can learn the most good things from them, so that I won't make an utter wreck of my own family someday.
I was fooling myself, all those years that I really thought things in my family might possibly be fixable. I guess that's what I started to ramble about in the beginning of this whole thing. Apparently, "the allure of hope" is a book title. I haven't read that yet, but it sounds good. I've been left to think back on old relationships that ended. In every situation, I eventually got through it because I believed that things in my family could be fixed, and that someday, we would really be there for each other. The reality that it was all unfixable, that my parents simply can't be dealt with, and that abandoning them wouldn't have been the wrong thing to do, is very hard for me to deal with. I'm used to trying. I'm accustomed to hoping that maybe this time, things will be different. I'm used to thinking that somehow there must be at least a shred of unity in that "family unit" -- some something that binds everyone together, even if it's pure hatred in some cases. I was used to the abuse. It gave me a sense of security, in knowing that though I didn't like how they treated me, they were at least physically around. Companionship, even with my own personal Hitlers, seemed better than nothing at all. It was the driving force behind my willingness to try with them. No "thus saith the Lord" could possibly drive me to keep "sticking [my] neck out" the way I did, time and time again, until they dropped the proverbial guillotine and cut me off forever.
I keep wishing there were some way to convince my parents to be real parents to me, even now, even though it's over and it will never, ever be possible. I'm not going to bother trying. They don't care, and have made that abundantly clear. They never really did. Any "good" thing they ever did was only to make themselves look better - it wasn't really for my benefit at all. That, my friends, is the crux of the matter. It just was so blessedly impossible for me to see before. I feel like I've been set free cold-turkey from some long, hellish addiction to people who've gone over to the dark side but forgot to give me the memo. The withdrawals have gotten a little easier over time, and once I really screamed it all out into Erik's loving hug (and into his arm-pit, because he's that tall, haha), they've gotten much easier. Finding humor in this whole thing has helped too. Oh yes, there has been humor, I just am probably legally bound not to repeat any of it on a public blog...
The point is, the very idea that I don't have to deal with them anymore... Ever again. In my whole life... It just is so freeing, yet leaves such a hole. True, the hole is easily filled by good people and good times, but life constantly changes, and I guess that this switch in futures was one that, though I dreamed of it, I wasn't completely prepared for. True, I don't have to ever again hear bad things about my future husband's distaste for me (eh?), and I don't ever have to be forced into anything I don't want anymore, and I don't have to keep hearing horrible things about myself, either. But yeah...
I don't know, I think I've probably said all I can say about it. I only know that I never, ever want to go back. Israel has had enough of Egypt and Pharoah. The desert, with God in the Temple, Guiding me as He works through others to make things happen while I chase after all those things, and as He works miracles on my behalf as well, is all I need. My Hope is in Him now. And I have no idea what the future holds, and I don't need to know. Everything is simply one day at a time now.
Forced.
People, that's not right. No one should be forced to live with anyone by the very nature of their own circumstances. Especially not children. I have not blogged many of the more horrific things I endured when I was growing up because I felt it would be in bad taste to air the worst of the dirty laundry. I still feel that, but I'll ask you here to simply trust me when I say that it really was that bad. If I had squealed as a kid, my parents would have made the evening news. I didn't squeal primarily for Jeff's sake, because in my presence, they treated him like gold. I didn't realize they saw him as their "big gold bar." I didn't realize that they likely have some mental health issues, that their view of reality was so distorted, and that their view even of right and wrong was so warped. Not until I was first reading through their "Statement" and later standing in that court with my mother.
I can't help any of this, and though being away from my parents has been the best thing for me, there is part of me that simply does wish things could have turned out differently. It never could have, I realize that now. Not only was it all bound to end really badly, but their attitudes/personalities have been the same all along, I just simply was unable to see it before, and it's like now I feel almost as if it's impossible to get used to. Aside from being in court this week, and hopefully whatever date/time the judge sets (if I'm allowed to be present) for moving my stuff out of their house, I'll never see either of them again. Yes, that's a good thing -- they are a serious liability to my life and livelihood, and always have been. Really, even to my soul. They nearly sucked the consciousness of myself right out of me, and it's only been in the last year or so that I've really become more aware of who I really am inside, what I'm worth, and what direction I'm going in life.
I'm so accustomed to "my parents are just royal pains" mode that the idea that I no longer have to deal with that, that this life is truly not theirs to influence now, is both relieving and it causes some daunting issues for me at this time. The housing issue, though it's been taken care of beautifully by loved ones who love me, has still been a difficult one to deal with, because I need a more permanent solution that keeps me near WWU, if that can possibly be worked out. The gas issue is worse, though people have been great about offering to fill my tank once in awhile, and have been giving me rides when they can. I've semi-solved this by putting as much gas as possible on my Chevron card, with the goal in mind of just paying the minimum this month and possibly next month, then paying larger chunks until it's all paid off. Even just getting my previous college loans deferred was no easy task, and I had to use gas to do it, etc. Applying to WWU so unexpectedly in the middle of the fall quarter for a program that only life itself has been preparing me for... Wow. It's a major turn. For the better, and I know I'll do well, but still...
Basically, I wish that my parents hadn't have been so utterly mean, dishonest, crude, judgmental, assumptive leading to vindictiveness, etc. I wish they had been more reasonable, that they had been more trusting and trustworthy, and that they hadn't have been such hypocrites. I wish they had been willing to face up to themselves, admit their faults, and actually bother, for real, to work on them. I wish they hadn't have assumed, since the time I was small, that I was some horrific person who would never be good enough for them. They harped on how we are all born bad and have to spend our whole lives trying to be good -- now I know why. And I have to believe what I told Erik out at the park something like a year and a half ago now, that people are really born good, and it's just growing up in a bad world, learning bad ways, that makes them (act) bad. Well, that's close to what I said. It's what I meant, at any rate.
But I can't have what I wish for. The best I can do is adopt new parents. I was musing to God and myself about that earlier today. I now have two sets to choose from, and Erik has always filled in wonderfully where my dad always failed me, and it's like I now have a lot of options open to me. Erik is my best friend, and I feel very sisterly toward him. He'll be walking me down the isle and will also be the officient at my wedding, because this is what I want and because it's what I wanted the day he offered to do that and I accepted. But Erik has never had his own children in the natural, human way. He's taught tons of students, and been like a father figure to many, but you know what I'm getting at. I'm glad for both Jack and Karina, as well as Doris and Ben, who I just recently met but who have taken me into their hearts and offered their home to me, rent free, until I'm on my feet. I have learned much and there is much more to learn, and I feel like I can only learn some things by watching people who've already parented babies through adults, who've learned the most valuable lessons already, because I can learn the most good things from them, so that I won't make an utter wreck of my own family someday.
I was fooling myself, all those years that I really thought things in my family might possibly be fixable. I guess that's what I started to ramble about in the beginning of this whole thing. Apparently, "the allure of hope" is a book title. I haven't read that yet, but it sounds good. I've been left to think back on old relationships that ended. In every situation, I eventually got through it because I believed that things in my family could be fixed, and that someday, we would really be there for each other. The reality that it was all unfixable, that my parents simply can't be dealt with, and that abandoning them wouldn't have been the wrong thing to do, is very hard for me to deal with. I'm used to trying. I'm accustomed to hoping that maybe this time, things will be different. I'm used to thinking that somehow there must be at least a shred of unity in that "family unit" -- some something that binds everyone together, even if it's pure hatred in some cases. I was used to the abuse. It gave me a sense of security, in knowing that though I didn't like how they treated me, they were at least physically around. Companionship, even with my own personal Hitlers, seemed better than nothing at all. It was the driving force behind my willingness to try with them. No "thus saith the Lord" could possibly drive me to keep "sticking [my] neck out" the way I did, time and time again, until they dropped the proverbial guillotine and cut me off forever.
I keep wishing there were some way to convince my parents to be real parents to me, even now, even though it's over and it will never, ever be possible. I'm not going to bother trying. They don't care, and have made that abundantly clear. They never really did. Any "good" thing they ever did was only to make themselves look better - it wasn't really for my benefit at all. That, my friends, is the crux of the matter. It just was so blessedly impossible for me to see before. I feel like I've been set free cold-turkey from some long, hellish addiction to people who've gone over to the dark side but forgot to give me the memo. The withdrawals have gotten a little easier over time, and once I really screamed it all out into Erik's loving hug (and into his arm-pit, because he's that tall, haha), they've gotten much easier. Finding humor in this whole thing has helped too. Oh yes, there has been humor, I just am probably legally bound not to repeat any of it on a public blog...
The point is, the very idea that I don't have to deal with them anymore... Ever again. In my whole life... It just is so freeing, yet leaves such a hole. True, the hole is easily filled by good people and good times, but life constantly changes, and I guess that this switch in futures was one that, though I dreamed of it, I wasn't completely prepared for. True, I don't have to ever again hear bad things about my future husband's distaste for me (eh?), and I don't ever have to be forced into anything I don't want anymore, and I don't have to keep hearing horrible things about myself, either. But yeah...
I don't know, I think I've probably said all I can say about it. I only know that I never, ever want to go back. Israel has had enough of Egypt and Pharoah. The desert, with God in the Temple, Guiding me as He works through others to make things happen while I chase after all those things, and as He works miracles on my behalf as well, is all I need. My Hope is in Him now. And I have no idea what the future holds, and I don't need to know. Everything is simply one day at a time now.
posted by Caroline Talita Ishshah | 10:38 PM
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