"and add some extra, just for you"
Apr. 27th, 2007 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jazzfishBear is awesome. That link is likely not safe for work, at least not if you're prone to any sort of empathy. Really, it's not safe for reading alone. It's good stuff, though. One of the commenters linked to Philip Larkin's This Be The Verse, which starts out "They fuck you up, your mum and dad / They may not mean to, but they do."
At one point while my grandfather was dying, there were a dozen or so relatives crowded into the hospital room, quietly being supportive of each other. My mother turned to me and said, crying, "This is what family is supposed to be." And I looked at these people, who I didn't know and didn't trust, and thought, "Ah. Family is something I'm not a part of."
Family is Mom, Dad, Jamie, and the Best Cat Ever. Family is piling into the car at Christmastime to drive fifteen hours in a day, spend the week with people I don't know very well and don't necessarily like very much, and drive fifteen hours in a day to get home, missing any New Year's Eve parties that may have been scheduled. Family is being related to people I can't relate to.
A couple of months ago I heard, from my cousin Paul, the sentiment that keeping in touch with family is up to us (the kids) now, since we're grown. I had to restrain myself from typing "Why would we want to do that?" I like Paul pretty well (he's one of Susan's), but I'd rather keep in touch with him and Susan and Alice because I and they actually want to, not out of some artificial familial obligation.
I went over to my parents' for dinner last week, because it had been over a month since I'd seen them and Mom was starting to sound a bit antsy. I'm not sure how long I'd have to go without seeing my parents before I'd start missing them: in the past it's been several months and nary a twinge. I'm even less close to my sister. She and I never got along, despite repeated attempts by my mother to make us play nicely. Two more different personalities it is hard to imagine. I understand intellectually that there are people who need to see or speak with their families, in the same way I understand that there are people who enjoy sitting on the couch drinking beer and watching football. These experiences are so far from my own that there's just no reference point. We may as well be on different planets.
I started making a couple of friends. Yeah, wounded doves, all of us. We really can spot each other.
I have nothing to add to this, except that it's utterly true. And that more of them are safer than normal people, but by no means all.
(My criteria for "wounded" are clearly going to be a lot less stringent than Bear's.)
I don't really know what the point of this is, except that it's been rattling around in my brain all day. Week. Year. Bear's post kind of brought it to the fore.
I'm broken in ways I'm only beginning to understand. Habits and instincts and reflexes that were incredibly useful twenty years ago have no place in my life now, but I can't get rid of them without understanding where they came from. I don't know if that's the curse of an overanalytical mind or just part of the Human Condition. (You know, being fucked up but kinda cool.)
It's somewhat heartening to know that there /is/ light further down the tunnel, even if (as someone says in comments) the tunnel never actually comes to an end. You just keep walking. Eventually it gets a little smoother.
At one point while my grandfather was dying, there were a dozen or so relatives crowded into the hospital room, quietly being supportive of each other. My mother turned to me and said, crying, "This is what family is supposed to be." And I looked at these people, who I didn't know and didn't trust, and thought, "Ah. Family is something I'm not a part of."
Family is Mom, Dad, Jamie, and the Best Cat Ever. Family is piling into the car at Christmastime to drive fifteen hours in a day, spend the week with people I don't know very well and don't necessarily like very much, and drive fifteen hours in a day to get home, missing any New Year's Eve parties that may have been scheduled. Family is being related to people I can't relate to.
A couple of months ago I heard, from my cousin Paul, the sentiment that keeping in touch with family is up to us (the kids) now, since we're grown. I had to restrain myself from typing "Why would we want to do that?" I like Paul pretty well (he's one of Susan's), but I'd rather keep in touch with him and Susan and Alice because I and they actually want to, not out of some artificial familial obligation.
I went over to my parents' for dinner last week, because it had been over a month since I'd seen them and Mom was starting to sound a bit antsy. I'm not sure how long I'd have to go without seeing my parents before I'd start missing them: in the past it's been several months and nary a twinge. I'm even less close to my sister. She and I never got along, despite repeated attempts by my mother to make us play nicely. Two more different personalities it is hard to imagine. I understand intellectually that there are people who need to see or speak with their families, in the same way I understand that there are people who enjoy sitting on the couch drinking beer and watching football. These experiences are so far from my own that there's just no reference point. We may as well be on different planets.
I started making a couple of friends. Yeah, wounded doves, all of us. We really can spot each other.
I have nothing to add to this, except that it's utterly true. And that more of them are safer than normal people, but by no means all.
(My criteria for "wounded" are clearly going to be a lot less stringent than Bear's.)
I don't really know what the point of this is, except that it's been rattling around in my brain all day. Week. Year. Bear's post kind of brought it to the fore.
I'm broken in ways I'm only beginning to understand. Habits and instincts and reflexes that were incredibly useful twenty years ago have no place in my life now, but I can't get rid of them without understanding where they came from. I don't know if that's the curse of an overanalytical mind or just part of the Human Condition. (You know, being fucked up but kinda cool.)
It's somewhat heartening to know that there /is/ light further down the tunnel, even if (as someone says in comments) the tunnel never actually comes to an end. You just keep walking. Eventually it gets a little smoother.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 09:51 pm (UTC)I think I decided that my parents and siblings are still special, but my true family is the one that I've actually gone out and picked and love. It feels more like *family* than anyone related has since I left for college.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 05:05 pm (UTC)As for the tunnel, I have only one thing to say, ... TRAAAIIIINNNN!!!! ::chuckle::
no subject
Date: 2007-04-29 07:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-29 07:58 am (UTC)But I have some very good people now that always think I'm enough. Even if I don't.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 11:50 pm (UTC)