8:40 p.m. - 06/08/02
--not one of your [::little toys::]--
It's been nearly six months, and I still have no idea why I'm here. I try not to whine myself silly over the way I grew up, but I don't understand why I have to continue on in that environment. I think I could be ok with how things were throughout my development, if I no longer had to be a part of them. I don't understand what my continued living here is meant to teach me, and I truly am tired of it. This is not my home, and I have no intention of making it my home. Not to mention the fact that my parents were done raising children several years ago, and my remaining here doesn't exactly help that fact.
Last night, when I had the dream my sister Linnea was born, I was completely in love with her, but I was also having a really hard time with how little noticed I was. (Typical former-youngest-child behavior, I suppose.) More than that, though, people expected me to be a different person now that she was born; it was like my identity had been contingent on my place as the youngest girl, and now that I was no longer in that role, I was no longer my old self. My behavior tended to irritate them; I think I was being too boyish. I remember waking up angry at my parents and my brother, unsure how I was going to separate the wrongs they'd done me in the dream with their actual innocence.
And then this evening, my parents treated me like shit, or worse like nothingness, and after the door closed behind them I just fell into tears. I hate crying so much. I can't stand how I feel, and I can't stand afterward, catching my reflection in glass or in a mirror, looking so much like I purged when really it's been - nearly a year. It's been nearly a year; what the hell kind of reality is that?
Anyway...it was just like old times; except that, for the most part in my "old times" it would have taken place with John, not with Joe. I mentioned that my parents were done parenting long ago, so it should make sense that when they are forced into the role, it wears their energy pretty quickly. It seems they deal with this by only having one child at a time, which is a problem when you bore five. Mom is a complete mess over Joe moving to L.A., even though she's known about it for ages and she's even going to see him again this weekend (he left tonight to visit my oldest brother, Dale.) She catered to his needs until the second he left, and even though I feel on the verge of physical death, and did not do a single thing to warrant being ignored, I was treated at best, like an afterthought. I gave up on them and practiced my new piano piece (I'm learning Tori's "Putting the Damage On")...I guess I hadn't totally given up on them because normally when I play piano, I hear a short comment about how it's coming along, or how I get such a brilliant sound. I kept expecting Mom to say something (Dad had come irritated and completely blown me off to sit in his room and pretend we didn't exist) but she didn't. She would stand in the room while I played but wouldn't say a word; Joe would sneeze three rooms away and she would rush to "bless" him. And just like when I was in middle/high school and it was John, I felt nothing toward Joe. I really wasn't angry at him; I didn't feel slighted...I didn't feel like he was purposefully "stealing" their attention. Joe used to be the kid who always wanted his way, but college has shaped a lot of that from him- I didn't feel that at all this visit. The fact that they still treated him like a spoiled toddler hurt and frustrated me.
All of these excuses: "He's going to L.A. in a week, and I just have such trouble saying goodbye to you guys." You can see how the kid who is always the one still here when others say goodbyes would start to take it personally. I am a bit of an attention whore, but more than that, I feel a right to be parented even when my siblings are around. I feel a right to be visible even when there are flashier attractions.
So yes, I don't understand why I'm still here putting up with an environment that I know I don't deserve. Putting up with an environment that I will never settle for. If it's to enforce that desire, it's already finished, already enforced. And if it's something else - to allow me to be around them without being affected so much, perhaps- I don't know how much longer I can hold out. I don't deserve this bullshit. I understand that I was the fifth (surprise!) child, and that they were finished parenting after three, but that doesn't give them the right to hang onto me when their energy is gone. And it doesn't give them the right to not *find* more energy when I have no choice but to stay.
I'm going to get my way about the volunteer work, and I don't say that to sound like a spoiled child; I say that because it's true. I'm going to convince them this is fair. They *owe me* this, as much as I never believe in that sort of debt. If I were in school, they'd have to take me to classes, to rehearsals, to all sorts of hypothetical sports games and championships. If I were still seeing Harriet they'd need to take the extra time to drive me to the city. This is part of my recovery, too. Part of my recovery is having a life. My own life. Separate from them.
It's an odd thing, attempting to coerce your parents to drive you toward your own autonomy.
chord
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