My mind is splintered tonight. Every sound around me is a distraction and I feel really irritable. My ears are ringing very loudly, penetrating every fiber of my body. I am fortunate that the ringing doesn’t keep me awake. I went to my brother’s house today. He only recently moved back into town and his house is only a block away from mine. I like him being in close proximity as I enjoy his company.
He and I share many traits. We are both annoyingly intelligent, we have the same work ethic and know what hard work is even if we do both shy away from it some days. We also are part of a dysfunctional family. I swear, ours would keep Springer busy for 5 seasons! The abuse and torment inflicted not only on us, but our entire family might have looked engineered by our father. Our mother put up with his shit for 40 plus years until her death 10 years ago. Any annoyance or embarrassment to him would result in a tirade of swear words and anger bordering on a tantrum.
It all seems surrealistic now. The feelings and emotions were all interwoven. Our father was well liked by many people. He always helped anyone who asked. He also made those closest to himself feel inadequate, incredibly small and of no consequence. That means that no matter what members of the family did it was never right. Even when he acknowledged work that was done, it would be an off-handed remark.
I wish that I could coalesce my memories into a chain of thoughts that wouldn’t be so confusing. Just trying to put this whole mess on paper is nearly impossible. My memories are tied to emotions that are at odds. I’m sure that this is part of my disassociative disorder. In order to survive the emotional morass that is my life. When asked about family life, I used to tell my therapist that “they weren’t all dead yet”, meaning a number of the adult members of the family. There is in fact, only one left now and she is finally not a threat as she has Alzhiemers.
My aunt is (was?) a vile, vulgar person. Remembering back to my childhood, she would talk about subjects that were completely inappropriate for the people present and the occasion. I wish I could be more clear on this but it causes me a lot of anxiety to even think about it. Maybe in another post. Her daughter, my first cousin, was quite a tale to tell. She and another cousin got married, separated and hooked up with her husband’s brother. They are all first cousins. Damn, I told you, Springer, right? Fortunately for the universe no children were spawned by this arrangement. She did have two sons and another daughter who are remarkably well adjusted and are a pleasure to be around.
Withthe continuing support from my wife and my siblings, along with some professional help I hope that I can change how I think about my father and the past. I hope to heal enough before I dissolve so that I can actually be able to say that I did something worthwhile with my life.