Sorry, venting time.
I don't talk about my family much on my blog because basically I'm not all that close to them. I don't hate them, but there's a lot of drama and bad blood and though I wish no one pain, I'd rather we just had a sort of distant, but polite truce. I know they'd be shocked to hear that, though deep down they'd know it to be true. Once in awhile I make some effort to visit/reconnect/whatever, but I usually end up angry or hurt in the end.
The truth is though, I'm not all that bothered by them 99% of the ti
me, basically because there's always been so much emotional - and with all my moving around -
physical distance between us. I don't think of them that often, and until I get some guilt-inducing call or email, have little contact. I know this sounds cold, especially for those lucky enough to have had a warm family life, but if you can just imagine a NOT-so-warm family life with a cast of characters that go beyond your after-school-special kind of dysfunctional, maybe you could understand.
The problem is that sometimes, that 1% of the time, they really get to me. REALLY get to me. I guess anyone could say that. And all mother-daughter relationships are complicated, even if they are "healthy." To give a quick re-cap, my mother had me in college (woops), and after a few years of child-rearing, which ranged from awkward to, at times, outright child endangerment, I was handed over to my grandparents, two people experienced at childcare, but for whom to this day, I still claim, are prime examples of a couple who should have remained childless. But then, there would be no me, would there? And how much bleaker would our society be without my endlessly depressing blog posts? Wait a minute.
Anyway, years later, my mother married and quickly had a child of her own, a girl. It was that time that she reconnected with me, and the yearly summer visits commenced until I went to college. The relationship has always been very civil, sometimes fun, but for the most part, strained, as you can imagine, and any therapist would have a heyday with my "abandonment issues." One thing that has contributed to the strain has been my (half-)sister. I know I've spoken of her before in the past, but I think it's been awhile. Basically, she grew up as an only child with my mother and step-father, and was denied nothing, despite their middle class incomes. This was often difficult for me to watch, since not only did I grow up rather poor with my grandparents (one retired for medical reasons, the other a high school cafeteria worker), but also because my sister was as many spoiled children are - loud, demanding, obnoxious, and ungrateful, which is simply a product of being spoiled, but which, in a circular way, makes the child seem unworthy of the spoiling. (I'm hurting my head now).
The other thing that strains it often, is that any time I ever talk to my mother by phone, or we have email exchanges, it is almost entirely about my sister (except for those rare, delicious emails that consist of 2-3 pages detailing how she's painting her kitchen. Fuck. Me.). To my mother, like many mothers, my sister is beautiful, smart, popular, talented, etc. I don't feel competitive with my sister for the most part, because there are so many years between us, we're in completely different worlds. And our personalities and interests are so completely different, that it's a bit bizarre. Her straight and shiny Asian hair (from her father), dark skin and eyes contrast against my Nordic genes of blue eyes, wavy blonde hair (color courtesy of a bottle nowadays), and fantastically pale skin. She is a dancer. I am, I dunno, a teacher who shuffles papers around most of the day. She is loud and attention-seeking. I am (for the most part), quiet and enjoy solitude or the company of one or two people.
But what makes it even MORE strained, is exactly how my mother talks to me about my sister. It isn't just the "Wonders of your Sister" show that I grit my teeth and try to endure politely, for the sake of not coming off as a spiteful bitch, but it's all that my mother lavishes on my sister and chooses, again and again, to detail to me.
Here's an example. My sister just graduated from college like five minutes ago. It was a private school out of state, so just imagine those bills for starters. My mother has taken out several "parent loans" for my sister that my mother will pay probably until she's dead. Additionally, my sister's rent, credit cards (she had 2-3), cellphone bill, and an additional $200 "food money" are paid for/to her each month. My mother is now deeply, and frighteningly in debt, which my sister seems totally oblivious too.
Yes, I'm jealous of this. No one has ever taken/given me a dime for my own education, if you don't count the federal government, who is hot on my tail at the moment trying to get it all back. Once in awhile my mother would give me a $20 bill for pizza or whatever, and unfortunately, my grandparents couldn't contribute anything. I have always paid for my rent (with the exception of generous Steve helping out in NYC), food, bills, etc. I can't even imagine having a credit card bill paid for me without
giving someone a blowjob first.
But again, what makes me the most upset, is that my mother, on a very regular basis, calls me up to DETAIL this all to me. And for the life of me, I can't figure out what the fuck for. It really is torture. But if I ever try to broach the subject about it, I just come off as the bratty sister who doesn't want to hear about her younger sister. I am the distant bitch. My mother will laugh and say, "Oh your sister, tsk tsk, she went ahead and bought a whole outfit on that Gap credit card. *insert chuckle and shaking of head* What am I going to do with her? I called her up and told her, 'Now this is it. This is the last time I'm going to pay off this credit card!' But you know, she really did NEED those clothes. I mean, she needs to interview. But of course, she'll just have to pay her own bills from now on."
I've heard a version of that scenario a dozen times over the past few years. Sometimes it's the $400 cellphone bill. Or the late rent. Or a bounced check on my mother's joint account. And my mother always acts like now she's getting tough, she's putting her foot down, but it sounds so incredibly phony, I don't know if she expects me to believe it, and hopefully not to praise her (lack of) efforts. I doubt my sister has ever paid for anything beyond her own manicure (which my mother pays for when she's in town). And to hear this, again and again, when I am usually struggling to stay afloat all by myself (and now with the help of lovely Beau), is excrutiating. I try to "uh huh uh huh" as quickly and patiently as I can so the conversation can end. But it's never fast enough.
I don't want to alienate my mother, like I said, I'd just like us all to be friends - friends who live 2000 miles from each other and just occasionally call/email. And I don't know why she feels she has to do this to me over and over. My sister, who now has an infant son of her own (her own 'woops' her senior year of college), is gainfully employed with a good job, and is living with her boyfriend who is working THREE jobs, is still getting, as my mother called it, "her $120/month allowance."
Her allowance! She's 22!
I know I should let this go. I know that my mother didn't raise me and so does not have the same obligation to me. And I know I should not feel like such a victim for being so fucking poor FOREVER, especially since a lot of it in my adult life has to do with my gallivanting to foreign locales, but it still bothers me. A great fucking lot.
Thankfully, it's only once in awhile. And thankfully, Beau was there for me to secretly talk to through my bluetooth (conveniently hid by my thick, luxurious hair) , while working at Shop-n-Smile, and silently fuming while folding my 10,000th bath towel. I feel like I'm writing an endless letter to Dear Abby, but I guess it's cause I don't know what to do. All those advice columns that say, "Well, you have to sit down with your mother and patiently explain to her..." blah blah blah, "...she'll respect you..." is bullshit. My family takes EVERYTHING as a total insult and my mother will be pissed forever. There's a part of me that kind of doesn't care - it'd take care of that endless feeling of obligation toward a family I am not close to - but really, I just want to be a "good" person and keep the peace. You know?
uggested a vasectomy to Beau who blanched and then declined.
