Action!

It is difficult for other people to understand why I'm not all gung-ho about going home for the holidays. I realize that most people want nothing more than to be with their families during this time of year. However, for me, I'm not feeling the holidays like that. As a matter of fact, I choose not to go home very often because I have so many issues with some of the things going on there. Perhaps most people grew up in with a nice home environment. That is not the context from which I draw my lived experience. Moreover, I believe that it is because most people had a "normal" home life, that they find it hard to understand when someone from a dysfunctional situation chooses to distance themselves from home.

For one, my mother's husband (until I see a blood test I won't call him my f____r), has had both legs amputated and is blind and still calls himself "pastoring" a church. He needs to sit down somewhere. How can someone in his condition effectively lead a flock of parishoners? On top of the health issues, he has so many psychological issues that it is not funny. I dont' have the emotional energy right now to go into detail, but suffice it to say ole dude is crazy. The sad part is that he thinks it's everyone else--a hallmark of people in his mental state.

The reason most people cannot wrap their minds around someone adamantly refusing to be involved in home life is because of what I call "The Script." Society has written a stage play in which our roles are defined, complete with stage directions. According to the script, any dutiful son should be home with family, sitting around the fireplace reminiscing on days gone by. I'd much rather skip meals for three days. (Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to eat.) People who deviate from the script are labeled as social misfits by society. I do not apologize for deviating from the script. If anyone had a home life like I had, and I realize that other people had it so much worse, then they would understand why I choose to exit stage left, rather than move in closer.

I have no desire to have a relationship with that man. He keeps calling me and I keep ignoring his calls. Last night I was duped into answering the phone. I have his number stored as Don't Answer, but for some reason I looked at the digits instead of the words and hit the talk button. As soon as the interrogation began I had regretted not reading, after all, reading is fundamental. The question about why I haven't returned calls came up. So as not to have a heated discussion in front of my company I simply said I'd been busy. Of course, he didn't like that answer and asked me if I was angry with him. That's the understatement of the freakin' decade. I didn't even have language to have that conversation with him so I had to end it so that my attitude wouldn't be bad, since I was on my way out.

When I talk to some of my friends about how I feel they try to tell me how I should feel and what I should do. I am not interested in how you think I should feel or what you think I should do. That's why I rarely discuss it because most people simply cannot wrap their minds around the decisions that I have made with respect to this situation. Their advice always heads toward trying to talk to him and getting over it, etc. I really can't be mad at them because those are the types of answers that should be given to someone based on what is printed in the script. What they don't understand is that the copy of the script that I received was markedly different from the ones that they read. One of my friends claims to "get it" but at the same time always remarks about how she thinks I'm wrong for this and that. That means that you DON'T get it!! What annoys me is that people want me to detail some life-shattering event that caused me to feel such resentment toward him. Since no single event exists (i.e. molestation, abuse, drug use,etc.) that would be considered "bad" enough for me to feel this way, people dismiss how I feel. Again, the script dictates that there had to be some capital offense before you can say that a parent is not worthy of your time, rather than the sum of all the years of your existence, with every passing day spent with a person more miserable that the previous.

When I am done with someone I am done. Come hell or high water. It is over. Finished. (Notice the pattern 5-3-1). The part I hate most is that I have withdrawn from my mother as well. She likes to encourage me to speak to him as well. That type of behavior only makes me reluctant to call her as well. As a matter of fact, it makes me resentful on some level, as she should clearly understand why I feel and behave this way. She's just a Christian though. It doesn't matter what someone has done, she believes in forgiveness. I do too. However, I subscribe to a brand of forgiviness that does not require that I still interact with the offender. I can wash my hands of you and be fine. Truthfully, when he's no longer in the picture I'll make up for this lost time between my mother and I. Given his health, I don't think it should be much longer.

The Truth: Not from Concentrate

I could post more often but it takes me a couple of days to decide what to write about. I don't imagine it's because I have such an uneventful life, but rather it's because I'm so busy trying to filter the information that I put out. I feel like I am continuing to repeat the pattern. I have a tendency to not fully express how I'm feeling because I like to present an image that says that I have it together. Honestly, for the most part I do. It's just that there's some stuff from the past, a lil baggage if you will, that I've been lugging for quite some time. Since my back is starting to hurt, I guess it's time that I needs be getting rid of it. So, blogworld, that's one of the things that I resolve to do. I'll start to try to unload some of this emotional stuff. I wonder how life will be when I don't have to carry around this heavy stuff any longer. Having borne it for such a long time, I wonder if I'll know how to actually let it go.

Here goes a start. I grew up in an abusive household. I had to pause after I typed that line to make sure that I wanted to keep the line and continue with some of my truths. You've heard me refer to him* --and for those of you who nodded off or haven't been playing close attention, him* is the one who they insist is my father. My life has felt like a series of contradictions. Him* is a preacher, but used to work as a counselor. (I know right, how is someone who is so messed up himself going to effectively counsel anyone?) Having to deal with the constant badgering, cursing, arguing, mean-spiritedness, hurtful words, etc., was such a far cry from the shell of the man who faithfully stood in the pulpit each Sunday to delineate the many evils of secular living/worldliness.

I could never come to grips with how someone could say one thing publicly and do something altogether different in private. I'm not sure that I'll ever understand that type of thinking, because I believe in being honest and transparent. I can see why he behaved as he did though. I mean, if his private life was exposed to the people in the public life, he would be frowned upon. Who wants to say that their pastor/preacher emotionally abuses his family? If I could play a tape of some of the things that have gone on in the past, any reasonably objective person would ask whether he is really a preacher.

Quick story: (Don't I always have a quick story?) Besides being evil incarnate, him* has a passion for sports, mainly football. I was never that into football. I played as a youngster and even showed promise, but it was simply not my interest. Looking back I think a part of the reason I didn't want to play was to aggravate him. I so despised being in his presence and loathed anything he liked, that I made sure not to like anything that he did so as to limit out interaction. One day my two brothers and I (by the way, they're twins) were at a barbershop. My older sister had taken us, but it was close to time for her to go to work and we had not gotten our haircuts yet. She called him to ask him to come and get us. His reply? I'm watching football. I always knew he like football a lot. But come on, we're your offspring. Your seed. You would rather us look like woolly mammoths than miss a little bit of one measly football game? The realism is, his action-answer was yes. My sister had to call her job to tell them she would be late, so that we could get our hair cut and she could take us back home.

So you say, well that's not so bad. I thought this was going to be deep and emotional. As I said earlier, this is the start of a series of posts. By the way they may not all be in succession, but there will be a couple of posts on the topic. This particular story may seem trivial to some, but it speaks to the position to which the other members of the family were relegated: last place. It speaks to the selfishness that he has. I need to add selfishness to my list of dislikes.

The Burgeoning

I've been fascinated by this blogging thing for quite some time. I immediately recognized its therapeutic value. As such, I decided to take part in this journey. I don't know how long I'll be here, but I'll be here as long as I'm led to be.

Here's a little bit about me. I'm a 20 something year old teacher at an at risk (read: low performing) high school. Some of my colleagues call me "JayBee." It's kinda humbling because that's what peeps used to call my grandad. I mean, they don't know that but, it's one of those things that I think about sometimes when they call me that. My mother is one of the strongest women I know and he (the one they say is my father) is on dialysis. I wonder how long it'll be. My favorite color is black (I know it's really a hue, but whatever) and I'm into gadgets. One of the things I look for in a car is how many buttons there are to play with. I enjoy hanging out with friends, a good meal and stimulating conversation. I enjoy my job, but disapprove of some of the people in power, some of the decisions that are made. Everybody has drama on their job. More on that later. I feel like I have to catch everyone up on who I am. I'm including a short list of likes and dislikes. Over time I may publish additional lists, make an addendum to this one or just sort of weave some of my truths into the entries that I publish. Something else that e'erbody should know is that I am a big procrastinator. Flashback to high school. I was always the one who would wait to the night before the big paper was due to start it. To my credit, I'd always get high grades and the teacher would think I'd spent days working diligently writing, revising and proofreading. HA! I always tell people that I work well under pressure. The realism is, I actually don't know how things would turn out if I started in advance because I have so few experiences with which to compare. Some of the truest sayings I've heard: 1. Actions speak louder than words. 2. Time heals all wounds. and one of my personal favorites 3. Obedience is better than sacrifice. I rarely get upset at circumstances/situations because I always think that it could be so much worse. (Even though I was disheartened at WalMart today when they told me they didn't have anymore turkey legs. I mean, I called them before I came and asked them to put me four to the side. No one said, "We can't hold food," or anything like that. I was under the assumption that when I arrived 20 minutes later that my turkey legs would already be packaged. But alas, they were already sold.)

Likes:

• Breyer's cookies and creme.
• Brown-skinned to dark skinned girls (not a color complex, just a preference)
• People who will stand for what's right or say what needs to be said, even when it's unpopular.
• Learning other people's vernacular. Think back to college or some time when you were around people from all over the US and other countries. The way other people express ideas intrigues me. For example, where I'm from to indicate the degree to which you are interested in doing something we say "pressed". Used in a sentence: "Yo, that dude was pressed to get her numba." This dude I knew from Jersey always said 'beat'. Think same sentence except replace pressed with beat.
• Justified text. This is one of my numerous idiosyncrasies. I simply hate ragged text. If you're not sure what I'm talking about look in any book (or look up at this entry) and see how the text is even on the left and the right. If you use left align, the text is ragged on the right hand side.

Dislikes:

• Liars.
• Phony people.
• Deceit.
• People who are always late and the lame azz excuses they always have.
• When you go out to eat there's always someone making a stink about some minuscule detail that made their meal/time just unbearable. If it's so bad, just push it to the side, don't eat it, don't leave a good tip and don't return.
• People who leave crappy tips. My best friend is a server. I know how much junk they take off people all day. Quick story: This lady left my best friend a $1.00 tip after Kiki had to keep running back and forth to her table for all her whims. Once Kiki discovered the dollar, she raced outside to the parking lot looking for the woman. When she found her in her car she knocked on the window and told her she dropped a dollar. The lady was like, "Oh no, sweetheart, I left that for you." My best friend tells her that she can have it because obviously she (the lady) needs it more than her.
• People who knock other people without knowing their story. How you gonna sum up someone else's existence, when you don't even know them?