Things my mother taught me

Today was my mother's 66th birthday. I didn't call. I didn't get her a card. I didn't acknowledge it in any way, because it's too stressful for me.

My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, and I haven't had contact with her in almost 6 years. Before that, I tried desperately to gain her approval; my whole childhood, and most of my adult life. I've learned since then, that I'll never be good enough, smart enough, funny enough. I'm not enough. I've learned since then that you can't reason with crazy. I've learned that it's not my fault my mother can't love me. I've learned that it's not okay to treat a child the way I was treated. I've learned that no matter how much you want to have a normal family, it's not possible for everybody.

I sometimes wonder what I would be like if I had normal parents. If I had parents who loved and wanted me. I wonder what I could have became if I was told I was smart, pretty, funny, wanted and loved. I wonder what it would have been like to have a carefree childhood where I didn't worry about my mom leaving me because she never wanted kids. If I hadn't had parents that found my very existence to be a burden. If my parents had wanted custody of me when they divorced rather than fighting over who had to take me. I wonder if I would be less self destructive. I wonder if I would have learned to love myself. I wonder if I would have learned to demand better treatment of me by others. Instead, after 37 years, I continue to let people treat me as if I'm disposable. After all, my parents taught me I am.

I used to worry that I would grow up to be crazy like my mother. Luckily, the paranoid schizophrenia becomes apparent in your mid to late twenties, so I dodged that bullet. Hey, at least I dodged one, right?

Walk for Animals

This year is going to be my 14th year doing the Walk for Animals benefiting the Animal Humane Society. I usually bring River (my parrot) and whomever else I think will behave themselves. Which means Harvey rarely goes along. It's usually River and Sunshine. I've been doing it so long, that my original walking companion at this event was actually the same "person" who introduced me to the Humane Society, my dog Misty. She walked with me from 1995-1999.

I got Misty 6/4/83. I was 11 years old and that was the day my father left us. He wouldn't let me have a puppy, so the day he left, my mother took me down to the Humane Society to pick out a puppy. As soon as I spotted her, I knew this was the dog I wanted. She was tiny, and adorable. At the time, she was all of 6" long, and looked like a tiny beagle. (Later we would learn she was actually a Beagle/Lab mix, and she topped out at about 50 lbs) There was a family there looking at her and playing with her. The mother in that family told the kids to put the puppy back in the cage, and they would go look at the adult dogs, and come back and adopt her. I saw my chance, and as soon as they put her back, I waited until they were out of sight, and I grabbed my new puppy, and brought her up to the adoption desk. She was $50.00 and I paid with my own money, since we were now going to be strapped for cash with my father gone. She was officially mine.

Misty had been abused, and didn't like men, even though she was only about 12 weeks old when we got her. In her whole life, she met 2 men she ever liked. One was my Grandpa, and one was Nick. She and I grew up together, and she was there for me in a way no one else ever was, or honestly, ever has been since.

She was fiercely protective of me, and would always stand between me and any visitors to our house. She also got between my mother and I, when my mother would get abusive with me. Even when I was an adult and married, and she was a feeble 16 year old dog, she would stand on shaky legs between me and Nick's friend Sean who she deemed a shady character. She would never let anything happen to "her girl." If I went to bed before Nick, she would lay in front of the door to the bedroom, and wait until Nick came to bed, once he came to bed, she must have decided it was his responsibility to protect me, and she would go lay on her doggie bed at the foot of our bed.

I had her from when I was 11 until I was 27. Her body had just given out and I had to make the most horrible decision of my entire life. I had to put my best friend in the whole world to sleep. She had a good, long life, and I will always be grateful to have known her. She was the only constant thing I had in my childhood besides my grandparents. She protected me, and comforted me through all the hard times in my childhood, and I will always miss her.

She is the reason I started doing the Walk for Animals, and the reason I will always do it. To help all the unwanted pets like her, who may just be some one's best friend.

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Picking Scabs

My father called me this morning on my cell phone and invited himself over. I told him I wouldn't be home from work until 4:30, so he of course said that he would be at my house at 4:30. I'll have no time to decompress from work, or belt back a couple strong drinks...he'll just be there. In my face. In my home. In my life. Ugh.

My father and I have had a troubled relationship at best. This is actually the case with both of my parents who both suffer from a variety of mental problems. My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. My father is a compulsive liar. He's also the most selfish person in the world. I like to tell people that I was raised by wolves...it's not that far from the truth, and frankly wolves are probably more nurturing.

Anyway, my father left when I was 11. That part is good. I was much happier once he left. I hated all the fighting. They fought in whispers when they thought I was sleeping and it made for a very stressful childhood. Once they separated I no longer had a divorce or the fighting to worry about, and it was actually better for me. My father moved to Texas and my mother had sole custody of me. He really only called me once a month if I was lucky. I had to spend a month there in the summer, per the custody arrangements. He didn't take any time off work for my visit, so I spent a month every summer at his house in Texas alone watching television. It was a very lonely way to spend my summer vacation. He was the king of broken promises, which is a big deal to a little girl. He promised to come up and visit me for my golden (13th) birthday. We made plans to go out to dinner, he gave me a time that he would come and pick me up for my birthday celebration. I sat on the front steps of my mother's house for a couple of hours before I accepted the fact that he wasn't coming. My birthday is October 13th, and I didn't hear from him, not even a phone call until November 15th.

I tried to let bygones be bygones. I am an adult now, and don't need parents to take care of me anymore. He's old, and has had a couple of heart attacks and a stroke. The problem is every time I try to forgive and move on, he fucks up again. Two years ago, I was in the midst of my own health problems. I had just gone through 2 miscarriages in the span of 4 months. (I didn't bother to tell either of my parents) I had just been diagnosed with a genetic clotting/autoimmune disorder. My father told me he had cancer. My friend died five years ago of cancer, so I'm pretty well versed in cancer terms, treatments, etc. His story didn't add up, but I felt guilty doubting him, because who would lie about something like that?!? Well, I kept asking questions, and he kept having answers that didn't make sense. Finally I told him that when he came up for Christmas, I would take him to the Mayo Clinic for a second opinion. Well, guess what? Turns out he didn't have cancer. He claimed they ran a new test and he didn't have it. He lied about it and played this out for about 4 months until he realized he was about to be discovered in his own web of lies. Some people are just toxic to be around. They rob you of your energy and kill a little bit of your soul every time you let them in. My parents are toxic to me.

So, would anyone like to adopt a 36 year old girl? I am kind, generous, loving, funny (can be a little snarky) still sort of cute, won't ask for money, or move back home....all I ask is that you aren't fucking nuts. That's not a lot, is it?