Hi there...
I just
realised how awfully long it's been since I last took time to write... Those
past seven weeks have been so amazingly eventful, it feels like months have
gone by. For starters, I finished school taking a total of 25 final exams and
left my parents' house for good moving a little south to one of my all time
favourite cities Hamburg where I'll start in my new job on Monday. Feeling very
much excited for this new chapter of my life to start, I become increasingly
aware of how urgently I need to cut the last chains that are holding me back,
namely not being affected by the way my parents treat me or the ones I love
anymore
Retrospectively,
I'm astonished and relieved at the same time that my parents haven't succeeded
in their constant try to destroy me. The moment I developed my own thoughts,
started to form my own mind, make my own decisions, gained my own experience
and drew my own conclusions, a war broke loose back at my parents'
place. My father, being incapable of standing up against me in an argument, had
always had a temper and raised his hands, belt, wet towel or whatever came to
hand against me about every time he was at a loss to impose his opinion on me.
My mother, not being that much different from him, usually sent him 'to teach
me a lesson' and blamed me later on for driving both of them so mad that they
felt obliged to cane me. This continued until the day I had enough, fought back
and thereby accidently hit my father in the balls. Thereafter, there was no more physical violence towards me. A tongue,
however, has no bone but can hurt you more than being actually slapped. Monster
was just one of many nicknames my mother used in order to show her affection
for me. She put me in the middle of arguments with my dad more times than I can
count, told him to leave just to make me stand in the middle of the driveway hoping
that seeing his little fucked up daughter would make him stay nevertheless.
Only later
on realised I that at on point I took a decision. Easily, I could have let them
destroy me, I could have let them keep using me as their fucking punching bag
but instead I decided to shut them out, build walls as high as I possibly could
and step by step I learned not to give a damn about whatever they'd throw at
me. Still, I didn't allow myself to talk about all that happened, I shut up and
thought to myself that there was nothing I could possibly complain about because,
after all, they provided for me and there are much worse parents out there. A
former friend of mine was the first to expose this illusion and thereby helped
me processing it all. There's no scale emotional pain can be measured on,
there's no guideline describing how much a kid can actually endure and sadly,
as close as parents are to us, they are capable of hurting us in unimaginable
ways.
I do not
blame them but neither do I forget. I do, however, know that my parents
probably never meant any of this to go the way it did. I can’t imagine they
used me for their fucked up psycho games on purpose. Now I know that it was
never my fault, that I am not an error, no monster, not unlovable or any of
what they said. They are human beings who never really reflected on themselves,
who always looked for somebody else to blame for everything that's going wrong,
who are matter of factly lonely and only have each other - driving each other nuts. I was thrown in the middle of all this and luckily, came out alive, yet
broken. But what is broken can be fixed even if it takes years.
Nowadays,
the problem with my parents, especially my mother, is that she believes she
still knows me and is in a position to give advice on matters I never ever
asked to be advised on - at least not by her. She never realised I shut her out
of my life a long time ago. Of course, I shared a few things with her - the
kind of information exchange that is hardly avoidable when you're living under the
same roof that is. She also tends to judge everyone and everything in my life
without actually first allowing her the chance to get a real impression. I
don't mind anymore when she's bragging on about how messed up I am, how I
always make the wrong choices and blah blah blah but when it comes to those I
love, she’s still able to drive me nuts. Every time I believe to be secure, I
believe there's nothing left they could possibly hurt me with, they almost
magically find something and crush me anew. Yet, the pain usually faded away
quickly as I used it to reinforce my walls but recently they both have taken
one step too far ensuring that we'll never be on the same page again. After
spending a weekend with my bestie and me at their place in Sweden, they apparently thought
it was a smart thing to go all bitchy on him, calling him unspeakable names
and blaming him for just about everything that is allegedly wrong with me.
I'll spare you the ugly details. However hard I tried, their words eventually
reached and hurt me badly. You cannot possibly talk shit about the best thing
in my damn life and expect me to just sit there and take it. Taking it out on
me I'm used to but this was my damn heart they were playing a match of Canadian
ice hockey with. He's my cryptonite...
For me,
family is a choice and not necessarily predetermined by blood. He's more family
to me than they ever were and I'm most certainly not willing to have people who
barely know me determining my life. The friendship we share is forever, the love unconditional and our lives connected till the end of our days. This is what family really means to me.
