Friday, March 25, 2011

On Being an 'Adult'

I read a line in a book the other day by, something along the lines of  'I never feel guilt because I know I do things to the fullest of my capacity' or something. I don't remember rightly and dipping through the book I can't find it. Frustrating.

Anyways.

I did not mean for this to be an unhappy sort of blog but the last post and this are turning out to be. Annoying, I know, but there are things happening to me that I really need to get out of my system.

Today I called my aunt and then today I called my mother.

My best friend (who I have a feeling is serious irritated as shit with me and our long distance shit is strained, etc) has been getting calls from my aunt in the states. Annoying calls. Calling her at work and calling her parents at home. My aunt wants to get ahold of me, etc. So I've been trying to call this past week or so between 8pm-11:30pm, which is AM there. I am seriously intimidated by my aunt and the first time I tried calling I realized I was shaking and could hardly breath. I feel guilt because I don't know if I should have kept in contact with my family even though they caused me a giant pain in the ass AKA; shitty childhood.

So after calling every other day for so long I finally got through tonight. Her sentences seemed slow and she sometimes didn't seem to understand immediately what I was talking about but I manned up and had a polite conversation with her, the 3rd one I've had since I've been in Australia for 2 years. It was sort of shitty but not as horrible as I thought it would be. I'm an adult now and it seems that I can ignore the past and speak civilized words at her. I guess I feel strong and confidant enough and realize that she has no power over me anymore. It's a scary thing being a child under the power of adults who are mentally ill. Anyways. She encouraged me to call my mother because my mother had 'tried her 24th suicide attempt last week.' Okay, give me the number.

This is the hard part.

Reading Jim Butcher's 'Changes' disturbed me alot this week. In this book the main down trodden hero character has to make a daring attempt to rescue his 5 or 7 year old daughter that he JUST found out he had in the first paragraph of the book. The main character had to go through alot of his childhood issues and alot of the talk left my eyes streaming. Things like the little girl wanted someone to save her just like he'd wanted years before and as her father he was going to break open his soul and rip heaven and earth apart to rescue this little girl that was his that he'd never even met. But I remember when I was in foster care (about 11 or 12 years old ) and for 2 weeks after I first arrived at the home I used to sit out on the porch swing for as long as they would let me and I used to watch the cars go by in hope that I would recognize one as my family. Someone was coming for me right? My uncles loved me, I'd see their expensive cars roll up and they would run in and hug me and take me away. When that didn't seem to be working out I started to develop elaborate fantasies about beautiful, immortal vampires who rescued me when I'd be walking at the park and they adopted me and took me to their big house and treated me like their favorite human daughter. Sort of like in The Little Vampire? I guess exactly like that, maybe without the flying vampire cows. This was, no doubt, due to my early love of R.L Stein's Goosebumps books and Fear Street series.

Magical vampire friends:Yeah :D !


The point is that I always wanted my mother, most of all, the problem with that being that she is bi-polar.

So after foster care I went to live with her for a year>She got sick and my aunt took me this time>I left my aunt's at 17 due to our strenuous relationship and through the next few years I always wanted my mother. She was in and out of hospitals and finally went to a permanent nursing home but I had a hard time and was living extremely rough in the ghetto of Toledo before finally renting in the beautiful city of Maumee. Life is hard when you live paycheck to paycheck and I started working nights as a cashier when I turned 18 and had to drop out of school during this time. I had private fantasies of my mother waking up from her false reality and we'd move in together, etc. Sometimes I'd rock myself to sleep crying for her or when I couldn't afford my rent and my electricity or my gas was shut off I'd break down.

I learned to shut these feelings off in a cold sort of ripping way.

To me she is not my 'mommy' anymore really, she is a person I love who has a history and some extremely unfortunate problems. There is a time in your life when you realize that the family you grew up with is someone beyond 'mommy' and 'sister in law,' that they have a history and they are real people.

She is a very sick person and now I feel like I know how to react to this.

When I was a teenager and we'd go see her I could NOT handle it. I went in and wanted to see my mommy, wanted her to rescue me and hold me and pet my hair but when I went in she would talk about meatballs in space or how she dreamed I had married the prince of England and we had 19 babies, etc.

As an adult I spoke to her today and I understood how to talk to her, finally. She could never be my mother anymore but I could let her know I was alright! Sure, I had to talk to her very slowly and sometimes explain things but I did it. I called and the nurses put me on hold and I felt terrible for not speaking to her for 2 years and I apologized to her and when she got spacey I was bold enough to bring her back to light conversation about my cats or whatever instead of clamming up and wanting things to be okay as I used to.

But I called her, finally. It's a huge relief that I didn't realize was stressing me out before. I suppose I have a loving new Australian family and they have given me strength and held me up and they have shown me what it means to love like a family should love! My husband and his mother mainly have helped me come out of my shell and they have taught me to be a stronger person than I have ever been in my life and I feel that they made it possible for me to call my mother, whom I realize I still love instead of fear for/need.

Etsy results for today's search:"Vampire Cows"
wat

Monday, March 14, 2011

Things I don't get/Mother in law is pissed@me

Is it a cultural difference or is it the way I was raised?

Last night my husband went to a sleeping clinic to take care of/investigate his awful snoring problem which has caused me to vacate the premises and shove an inflatable mattress into the living room for my own use. And the cat's use...Don't ask me about how the sleeping clinic went, all I heard was that there were wires and shaving involved. Kinky.


Aww, kitty...back to teh serious >:0

So there have been alot of break ins in the area lately and last week I had some young guy knock on my door and when I finally answered he was looking around by the driveway, he was all "Uhhh, does Justin live here?" Well, no, el husbando has lived here for like 7 years or something, this is freakin' weird. So anyway it made me a tad paranoid. Well it's about 12:30 am and I'm curled up in bed with a Dresden Files book, one of the cats drooling all over my neck as I pat him and suddenly BAM! Whazzat?! >.>! It's windy as fuck and a branch or something bashes into the bedroom window. ACK! I run around and turn all the lights on, head swinging around like a maniac trying to find the ghost/burglar/invading cylons, etc.

There is nothing. It was a branch, obviously, now go to sleep you crazy. Okay...

Previously that day my mother in law had invited me to spend the night or call if I was scared or needed anything. One of my big things is that I really hate to inconvenience or bother people, I hate to feel like I owe them something or make them think I'm taking advantage of them and have no idea of how she'd react to me calling her at 1 am. Mind, I do, because her son is at university and he calls at midnight and later and she couldn't give a shit less. "He was worried," She'd say, "needed a chat with his mummy." I know, I know.

Well I spoke with her today, and she says, "How was last night?" and I say, "Oh yeah well, I was kinda spooked because it was windy but whatever." She flipped her shit. I tried to laugh it off but she was..actually mad at me?  Really, she berated me. How dare I not call her! I was scared, for heaven's sakes! Her call waiting is going off and she has to go now.

So my husband calls me to tell me he's coming home, sounds kind of tired but it's probably from the clinic. I over think things and send him a text like, "Are you okay?" and I get "We'll talk when I'm home, not bad." NOT BAD?! Ohmehgawd. He's kicking me out, he doesn't wanna move, he thinks I've been lazy, he thinks I'm addicted to Rift, holy shit did I not give the cats water, ohmehgawd. Run around, do the dishes, sweep the floors, clean ALL the poopoos, feed the kitties and the bunny, start dinner and wait...tickity tock.

So he's home and we have a sit down on the bed and I rub his back all nice and, "What's the matter?" It's nothing at all like I thought. He was just tired from the clinic, his work, running around Perth and he had a mighty headache. But apparently his mom gave him a ride home from the train station and voiced her concern about me not calling her up. She was very upset. She had told him that she'd thought I was over this, that I trusted them and loved them and she wanted me to be closer and feel like I was able to call at midnight, etc.

"I don't get it," I explained. I don't, I do lubs her <3 but I don't understand maybe what it is to be family?

(insert screwed up childhood sob story here)

Is it our cultural differences or is it my own upbringing/both?

I just feel like I'd be weak to rely on anyone and will push and struggle and suffer not to have to do that. I love them but I have never really seen how a proper family works. I don't know that I'm supposed to call if I feel scared. 

When I was a young girl of 16 my two aunts and my favorite uncle whom I'd always loved and admired went to visit my mom in the psych ward where she was before she was moved to a permanent nursing home. I was drained by the time we came out and I was having a hard time living in the custody of my aunt who was, I found out later, bi polar and addicted terribly to Xanax . My favorite uncle that I hadn't seen before I'd gone into foster care at 11 pulled me aside. This man had money, he owned a large real estate agency and he used to always invite us over for Easter/Christmas/holidays, etc for huge family gatherings He was a stable sort of person and had played a huge part in my much younger life. He asked, "Really, how are you doing living with your auntie?" And I laughed it off because I am the sort of person who makes light of things and pretend everything is alright when it's not, I said, "Oh it's alright, she gets a little pissy sometimes but I like her." Lies, lies, lies. And he says, "Well how was it when you were in foster care?" "Oh it was alright."

Foster care was a bad experience for me. The people I was living with were great, amazing people who helped me structure my life but they were extremely religious to the point of ludicrousness. The they found Harry Potter books in my backpack and stored them in  the shed for when I was leaving, they took my library card when I took out a book on dreams, couldn't watch TV because once I was caught watching a show on ghosts, no spare paper, no pokemon games, church twice a week and religious songs in the car. They weren't bad people, just oppressively religious. Like, Benny Hinn and speaking in tongues and falling over possessed by the spirit of Christ. Srsly now. I had a shaky time of my year or so with them and had a strange sexual experience that I would rather not have been involved in with one of the foster girls. That was a fiasco and did not turn out well. 


Looking back I can see maybe my uncle thought it really was alright and wouldn't see that I was lying to make light of it, I was SO excited to see him and just wanted to act cool about everything. So he says, "Now sweety if your aunt isn't turning out well with you then why don't you go back into foster care?" My ears rang, I remember, with the dizzy feeling of disappointment and a kind of shame. I'd really thought he might be asking me to come live with him.

Anyways, family experiences until now, not so good. I'm finding it really awkward to settle into a position with my few family here in Australia, even though it's been about 2 years since I've come here. I didn't mean to type that little story out, ugh. Too late, it's sort of TL;DR anyways :)

AND NOW HAPPY PICTURES OF TOWN WE'RE MOVING TO :D
(Visited on the weekend!)

Horsey Ass

Dat sum trees

Wall on a local cafe

Housy we're looking at

Etsy results for today's search: "Bad Childhood"

Seriously, didn't she get eaten and digested?