Relatively Dysfunctional Oh's...

How do you feel when you are with your family? How are you *supposed* to feel? Family. Relatives. Blood. Kin. The social construct of man for all eternity. Your family is your proof of where you came from, that from which you were created, that with which you will carry on the genetic legacy, that unseen tie-that *something* that lets you forgive all sins against you cuz "they're family".

Looking back, I didn't have a horrible childhood, per se. Not as bleak as I like to portray it sometimes. It wasn't The Brady Bunch or The Cosby Show but it wasn't great. Hell...it wasn't even good much. I remember when I was little, before I became jaded, I'd tell Mama all the time "I love you." I'd say it, draw her pictures or leave her notes. Random. Out of the blue. Just because I felt like saying it. She'd reply, "I love you, too, Punkin." And then she'd beat me or rip me to shreds with how ugly & awful & stupid & fat I was. Within a few years, I stopped telling her that I loved her because it didn't matter. She was still going to hurt me, no matter if I loved her or not.

I don't *DO* family. Or, at the very least, MY family. And I haven't a clue how to trust other families to not be fake. Not be hiding some deep, dark secret beyond the facade they portray. But, that goes to just people in general, too. I get around my relatives...mom, grandmother, uncles, aunts, cousins...& I immediately brace myself for the barrage of condemnation & insults. The entire time, my body is physically strung tight against this. I usually hurt afterwards, when I can relax again. I look at my family & I know that I don't like them. I have nothing in common with them. I see where I came from & I don't identify with it at all. I see these people that I've not seen in a year or 10 years or 20 years & I immediately feel crushed under the weight of them. I'm insignificant, I'm just there to be ridiculed & talked about, I'm just useful enough for them to have topics of conversation over. I wish I were invisible to them or didn't exist at all. I don't have any need to be a part of this condescending, ridiculing, berating, racist, judgemental, humiliating, ignorant collection of blood relatives. At the same time, I feel a sense of *connection* to them though. Because "they're family". I don't like them but I can't deny them either?

When I was in my mid-20s, I went through a period of time where I was *craving* having a child. Had no use to be married & create a "family" but I wanted a child. And I went through a handful of men that I slept with, unprotected, *hoping* for an "accident". Was with them once each because it wasn't about them but what they could create for me. I didn't want them. Then I realized...my family...is hereditary! That stopped me in my tracks right then & there. No way would I be cruel enough to purposefully shackle any child of mine to my family & what it brings to the table. No way. From that point on, I swore off men.

I swore off relationships period. I spent years being distant from my family & felt somewhat "human" because of it. But I didn't get close to anyone else either. As I got older, I steered clear of sexual/intimate relationships because I feel so inept. Being submissive, I don't know how to tell someone "no" when that is definitely what I want to say. I don't want to upset them. I don't want to not please them. I don't want to let them down. So I get into the situation & whatever happens, happens but I tend to disappear afterwards. Only once have I gotten so close to someone that they experience my inadequacies, my vulnerabilities, my lack of knowledge & experience & I *DON'T* run immediately away from them! Once. *sighs* I've not had...The Big Oh. I get close & then...just lose it. I keep saying "I'm broken". I ran across a description of Female Orgasmic Disorder. It says: Some research suggests that failure to achieve an orgasm for women is related to intimacy issues, feelings of fear and anxiety, and a sense of not being safe within the intimate relationship or relationships in general. And that makes sense. Considering. I mean, I always had that issue but I was never vested in these encounters before either. There was no "relationship". It was just sex. But casual sex is beyond weird for me cuz I'm so emotion-based that I can't fathom being THAT intimate with someone & not being attached to them emotionally. The *ONE* time that I approached that level of intimacy & relationship, I still wasn't secure in it. My gut told me constantly that I wasn't wanted, needed in this relationship like I was being told that I was. However, the promise was always there that I would be "taught" the ways of love & the world. I would be "created" & "molded" for them. By them. Together. She would create that experience for me. I would do it for Her. And Him. It was a repeated promise. Over & over. So NOW that that is just a broken promise & I'll never learn any of that from them...when I try to get intimate, I fail. I'm broken. I *only* want to experience & learn these things with Them. They were supposed (according to The Promise) to be my first everything. They were supposed to create me, teach me, let me grow with them. And that is weighing heavily on me today.

I'm standing at a crossroads at the moment. I remember trying to have a new relationship...right after my world exploded. It didn't go well. I was offered everything that I'd begged another for but couldn't accept it. Couldn't let someone else take her place because I'd be "cheating" on her even though she doesn't give a rat's ass about me. I've finally realized that she doesn't care. I can't stop caring though. So I'm stuck still. I can't stop caring & I can't stop not thinking she's the only one that was supposed to get this part of me. Or both of them actually...but I digress. So maybe it was too soon before? Maybe a day after my world shattered & my future became black was too soon to jump into bed with someone else? I accept that on it's own merits. But what about now? Nearly 3 months later? That 1st Relationship After is damaged now & I don't know how to fix it anymore. We can't even speak anymore without it turning into an argument about why I left (job, finances or not being ready for another "relationship"). So I've just stopped speaking all together. I refuse to have another relationship like that in which all we do is argue. Which reminds me, I was watching Brothers and Sisters last night. There was an excerpt where Sarah was talking to Robert about Kitty. I'm going to have to paraphrase because I can't find the exact quote from the ep but, something to the affect of...she fights with passion & love for the things that truly matter to her, that which she loves. When she stops fighting, she's walking away, giving up on it. And I realized that is a LOT like me. If I don't fight for something, it's not all that important to me. I stopped fighting my family when I was just a child. I have fought Kat many times over the last months. I realize that I've stopped fighting with her or for her even. I've stopped fighting but I've not stopped caring, which puts me between a rock & a hard place. Now I've stopped fighting for this friendship. I no longer see the point in holding onto it if all it's going to be is one continuous argument. :/ I also have the potential for new relationships looming in the near distance. I worry that I can't do them...

*sighs*

When I woke up 2 hours ago, I knew today wasn't going to be a "good" day. I'm surrounded by negativity, loneliness, & despair. I'm surrounded by family, friendships that are tense, love that is shattered, attraction that is unsure & still no signs of employment. :/

I ran across this poem a bit ago...I liked it. I think I should share:

Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.


I'm craving that kindness like nothing I've felt before right now. Craving it & terrified of it at the same time.