Getting it all out.
11:46 AM 3.23.12
I always feel not good enough when I’m around people who speak of their success. Why is that? My take is- it’s b/c my father compared me to everyone else my entire life. Any time I felt anything he would minimize it by saying “why b/c _____ has one?” or “is that what ____ says.” I kept telling him that wasn’t why- that I had my own reasons. But like so many other things- he just didn’t give a shit. He didn’t even acknowledge what I was saying. My whole childhood felt like I was standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming “HELP ME PLEASE” and everyone just walked by and gave me nasty looks like I was stupid for asking. I asked for help every day growing up. I didn’t say out loud- I need your help with this. But I needed help. When I told my father how I feel I was saying- help me- tell me I’m okay, Tell my I deserve to be loved. When I screamed at my brother or even at him I was saying “please help me.” Tell me that you love me even when I’m not perfect. Tell me that you love me even when I act up. Tell me that I don’t have to be perfect to be loved. Please help me. My entire life I was saying that without saying that. I don’t really know how old I was when I realized that no one in my family was going to help. Every time I asked them to just support me they controlled me and tried to make me be just like them. I wasn’t just like them. I’m different then everyone in my family. Not only did they not help- but they hurt me when they found out I needed help. They would never listen to how I felt, what I wanted, what mattered to me- NEVER. But they would interrupt my sentence to tell me what to do each time. They got the same from their parents. I see it in my grandparents. So no one taught them how to act either. But- none of that takes away from how much it hurt to never be heard. It still fucks me up to this day. I always feel like everything will be okay as long as I’m perfect. But when I show my imperfections I feel like I will be instantly abandoned. B/c I always have been. And then when I was upset bc no one listened- if I dared speak of it I got attacked so hard I learned not to do that again. But I still did it. I kept fighting. Until I turned about 25- then I just threw the towel in and gave up. I went to law school- so I didn’t give up on life- I just gave up on feeling any form of inner joy. I kind of resigned myself to “this is just how it is.”
My friend told me the other day that I don’t know who I am. That really hit me. B/c I’ve always prided myself in having a strong knowledge of who I am. But the truth is- I’ve been figuratively beaten and whipped my whole life. I did what I had to to survive. So I know that I’m a survivor. I definitely know that. And I know that I know how to protect myself from fucked up shit. I saw myself through my parent’s eyes- and since you can’t give away what you don’t have- what I saw was really fucked up. And for all these years that’s who I thought I was. I was someone who saved people. Someone who was stronger than anyone in the room. A protector. A protector who could protect the whole world but herself.
I guess I just believed all the bullshit. I based my life on my father’s angry rants. His advice on life- be your own worst critic, lawyers are a dime a dozen- in so many words- “Trust no one.” But him of course- he made sure to repeatedly tell me that ‘family was all u got’- boy did that sentiment leave me feeling superfucked. If this was all I had- then I better make sure they approve of me. I better make sure they think I’m okay. And they didn’t. They made that very clear. I heard what they weren’t saying out loud and I heard what they said too. Caught between a rock and a hard place- I learned to prefer when they actively insulted me- b/c then I knew where I stood and I could adequately protect myself. But more often than not they didn’t have the balls to stand by what they said. My father is the king of passive/aggressive. I’m a half kidder myself- but I call it what it is. I don’t hide behind a joke. My father has said things that utterly destroyed me with a big ass smile on his face thinking it was some funny shit. His favorite thing to say was “Everything’s a joke to you guys isn't it?” and of Course “You don’t know…” “You don’t understand.” Mind you- I became an adult at about 12. There was no joking around for me. Others got to do that- my brother got to be a kid. But not me. I was so serious. B/c I desperately wanted to prove my dad wrong. I looked up to him so much. And he kept telling me how everything was a joke to me. Even fucking jokes weren’t jokes to me. But he didn’t see that. He didn’t see me. No one did. No one in my family. And when he was telling me how everything was a joke and how I didn’t understand- it was usually in response to me telling him I agreed with him and that I perfectly understood. It was their world- I just happen to be living in it.
My father never took a real look in the mirror- neither did my ma. They never cared to fix what was real- what was important. To this day they both obsess over their weight. They sit at home and drink and isolate hoping to come and save them from themselves. And they micro manage my brother and I. That’s one of the reasons I isolate- b/c I’m hiding from them and by doing so- I’m hiding from the world. I’m basically cutting off my nose to spite my face.
And the only one who can change that is me.
I always feel not good enough when I’m around people who speak of their success. Why is that? My take is- it’s b/c my father compared me to everyone else my entire life. Any time I felt anything he would minimize it by saying “why b/c _____ has one?” or “is that what ____ says.” I kept telling him that wasn’t why- that I had my own reasons. But like so many other things- he just didn’t give a shit. He didn’t even acknowledge what I was saying. My whole childhood felt like I was standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming “HELP ME PLEASE” and everyone just walked by and gave me nasty looks like I was stupid for asking. I asked for help every day growing up. I didn’t say out loud- I need your help with this. But I needed help. When I told my father how I feel I was saying- help me- tell me I’m okay, Tell my I deserve to be loved. When I screamed at my brother or even at him I was saying “please help me.” Tell me that you love me even when I’m not perfect. Tell me that you love me even when I act up. Tell me that I don’t have to be perfect to be loved. Please help me. My entire life I was saying that without saying that. I don’t really know how old I was when I realized that no one in my family was going to help. Every time I asked them to just support me they controlled me and tried to make me be just like them. I wasn’t just like them. I’m different then everyone in my family. Not only did they not help- but they hurt me when they found out I needed help. They would never listen to how I felt, what I wanted, what mattered to me- NEVER. But they would interrupt my sentence to tell me what to do each time. They got the same from their parents. I see it in my grandparents. So no one taught them how to act either. But- none of that takes away from how much it hurt to never be heard. It still fucks me up to this day. I always feel like everything will be okay as long as I’m perfect. But when I show my imperfections I feel like I will be instantly abandoned. B/c I always have been. And then when I was upset bc no one listened- if I dared speak of it I got attacked so hard I learned not to do that again. But I still did it. I kept fighting. Until I turned about 25- then I just threw the towel in and gave up. I went to law school- so I didn’t give up on life- I just gave up on feeling any form of inner joy. I kind of resigned myself to “this is just how it is.”
My friend told me the other day that I don’t know who I am. That really hit me. B/c I’ve always prided myself in having a strong knowledge of who I am. But the truth is- I’ve been figuratively beaten and whipped my whole life. I did what I had to to survive. So I know that I’m a survivor. I definitely know that. And I know that I know how to protect myself from fucked up shit. I saw myself through my parent’s eyes- and since you can’t give away what you don’t have- what I saw was really fucked up. And for all these years that’s who I thought I was. I was someone who saved people. Someone who was stronger than anyone in the room. A protector. A protector who could protect the whole world but herself.
I guess I just believed all the bullshit. I based my life on my father’s angry rants. His advice on life- be your own worst critic, lawyers are a dime a dozen- in so many words- “Trust no one.” But him of course- he made sure to repeatedly tell me that ‘family was all u got’- boy did that sentiment leave me feeling superfucked. If this was all I had- then I better make sure they approve of me. I better make sure they think I’m okay. And they didn’t. They made that very clear. I heard what they weren’t saying out loud and I heard what they said too. Caught between a rock and a hard place- I learned to prefer when they actively insulted me- b/c then I knew where I stood and I could adequately protect myself. But more often than not they didn’t have the balls to stand by what they said. My father is the king of passive/aggressive. I’m a half kidder myself- but I call it what it is. I don’t hide behind a joke. My father has said things that utterly destroyed me with a big ass smile on his face thinking it was some funny shit. His favorite thing to say was “Everything’s a joke to you guys isn't it?” and of Course “You don’t know…” “You don’t understand.” Mind you- I became an adult at about 12. There was no joking around for me. Others got to do that- my brother got to be a kid. But not me. I was so serious. B/c I desperately wanted to prove my dad wrong. I looked up to him so much. And he kept telling me how everything was a joke to me. Even fucking jokes weren’t jokes to me. But he didn’t see that. He didn’t see me. No one did. No one in my family. And when he was telling me how everything was a joke and how I didn’t understand- it was usually in response to me telling him I agreed with him and that I perfectly understood. It was their world- I just happen to be living in it.
My father never took a real look in the mirror- neither did my ma. They never cared to fix what was real- what was important. To this day they both obsess over their weight. They sit at home and drink and isolate hoping to come and save them from themselves. And they micro manage my brother and I. That’s one of the reasons I isolate- b/c I’m hiding from them and by doing so- I’m hiding from the world. I’m basically cutting off my nose to spite my face.
And the only one who can change that is me.
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