Though tough times, they were a part of my journey. I can get upset thinking about the child who was locked away in an emotional prison, but I now feel strong enough to talk about these struggles without getting stuck in that mindset. I can now see it as a part of my life that is over and a platform to use to speak about the power within every individual to reach greatness and fulfillment.
Let's start with the parents:
My Mother
My mom was the hot topic of my childhood. She had a personality disorder that was best described in the title of a book about it called "Walking on Eggshells". With mood shifts in ever-changing increments (minutes, hours, days, weeks, months), there was a serious amount of stress in the unpredictability around someone who was supposed to be such a foundational part of my life.
To top it off, she never used the term "family" to refer to her husband and three children. That was reserved for the elite "Dillon-Malone" clan (my mom's brothers and sisters and their parents). To have your mother straight-up ignore her connection with you isn't quite the memory you look forward to savoring as an adult.
Though she was mentally ill, one personality she would exude was loving, caring, compassionate, care-free, empathetic, fun, silly, and nurturing. I would cling to this person whenever she decided to pay a visit. I would tell her e v e r y t h i n g - the teachers I was having a hard time with, the exhaustion I was facing with trying to get an overwhelming amount of studying done, all the fun things I wanted to do, relationships. We would share stories, act like total goofballs, laugh hysterically, have deep conversations about life. It was what every child would want to have in a mother. I would feel safe and loved in those moments. And then those moments would be over...
When my motherly mother went into hiding, out came the antithesis of what I just described. "Of course no one likes YOU," she would tell me as she referred to the conversations we had in the joyous moments just one night earlier. She would trail my heals nagging me about what a horrible person I was. She would yell, blast the radio, drop heavy baskets from a height, harass my dad for "making the kids turn on her", threaten to call school or my friends' parents and tell them all about me. All those deep feelings I shared, all that trust that was built...burned to the ground, for no reason. Safety violated. One time, I made her a birthday card which she was thrilled to receive and gave me hugs and smiles for. The next year, she decided her birthday was the day I was the child she didn't like (there was always at least one of us at any point in time) and I walked into the kitchen to see that card ripped in half and magneted to the fridge for my viewing pleasure. Why, you ask? Because that was what the mood presented. But I would fall for the motherly mother trap hundreds of times before I was numb to the mood shifts. Every question she asked was answered with little mumbles, allowing for the least connection possible.
Many people who had a general idea of my mom's issues assumed the greatest impact on us was in the form of her hoarding. Our house was jam-packed. You could only walk through paths that were one-foot wide. The dining room table was stacked to the hilt. I had no room of my own until I snapped one summer in high school and threw out all of her things and refused to let it back into my space. The thing is, her junk was not even really a factor. The mind-fucks were where it was at.
I was bitter about this for a while. I had cried almost every single day of my life until I left for college because of the emotional pain caused by this instability. I was lifted up and then smashed into the ground over and over again. That took a toll.
The end result was really just to cut ties. That may sound like a harsh option, but the amount of freedom this allows for is out of this world (for the both of us).
My Father
I have always been a daddy's girl. My dad and I would have sooo much fun together. We would watch "America's Funniest Home Videos" and roar laughing so hard that my brother makes fun of us to this day. We would play in the pool and make the best whirlpools and waves you could make without knocking down the pool walls. We would go on vacation and just relax in each other's company, go for long bike rides, and play mini golf (and claim to be the winner no matter what the scorecard said). I just loved being around him.
With all the years of struggling with my relationship with my mom, it took me to adulthood to realize all the stock I had put into my dad to lead the way for me. He was so confident in himself and I trusted him. But his confidence was born out of an opinionated mindset. He would state every opinion as fact. His way or the highway. I learned every lesson from him from statements beginning with, "Look at that idiot over there..." Fill in the blank with "smoking, wearing that shirt, wasting his money, thinking he's good-looking" or anything that veered from his own lifestyle. In my adulthood, I identified so much with "idiot" and that was just plain dangerous. My brother opened my eyes to the concept of my dad as a "master brainwasher", using repetition and intimidation to align his troops. That has significantly diminished as my dad has gotten older, but my brother was spot on.
My greatest fear in life has probably been (and perhaps still is) disappointing my dad. My worth has been based on my dad's approval for so long that it's so hard for me to think of anything else.
My counselor once asked me, "Would you rather disappoint your dad by not living the life he wants for you or be disappointed in yourself" My response? "Honestly, I would rather be disappointed in myself."
BUT NOW...
I feel a shift that is actually blowing my mind. I can't say I'm completely there yet but I can FEEEL it - oh I can feel it. I realize myself as my own person, as someone who may not get approval from my family because of the choices I make that bring me closer to myself. But that is exactly what is making me feel alive. Being responsible for my own choices. Oof, that's scary. But it's also a thrill - jumping into the driver's seat and pressing the gas. It's time to stop putting life on a pedestal. Yes, life is AMAZING, but exaggerating the pressure of all your choices will prevent you from experiencing it.
In this shift, there is an automatic response to revert back to old ways of thinking, old methods that served me in a previous phase of my life. Time to LET GO! I am not that person any more. There are new tools available now, new obstacles to tackles, new magic to discover.
