Swing of Things

Hey there, Interwebers.

It's been a while, huh?

Don't worry, I'm alive. And doing much better than I was over the holidays.

First things first, I did find my wallet! It was at Karim's house, so that was a bummer. I could have sworn I didn't take it over, but apparently my memory is fickle. Mom got mad at me, though, so I replaced my debit card and student ID before finding my wallet again. The ID was easy, but my debit card didn't come in within 10 days, so I canceled that one and got a replacement one yesterday. Which, let me tell you, has been so amazing. I hate having other people pay for me, but it did make me realize just how much I spend. I'm trying to curb that.

The last few weeks at home were hell. I had missed my family, but I didn't miss being able to have peace and quiet. Ari knows that sometimes I need to be isolated in a quiet and dark place sometimes, and they respect that. Sometimes they need that too. It works well for us because neither of us talk much in the morning, and we leave the other alone when they are in a bad mood. Plus, we have a system of getting the other something they like to eat when they're down. It's like a peace offering, except better.

So that was missing at home. I come from a Mexican family, so we're all loud, which makes morning difficult. I like being alone in the morning with minimal to no sound. At home, that's impossible. It didn't help that I let myself sleep in until noon every day that didn't require me up at an earlier hour. So it was partially my fault. But the mornings I did have to wake up early were awful. My grandpa also had to stay with us a few days a week, and that was a whole other nightmare.

My grandpa has been in and out of doctor's offices for the last year and three months. Most of it is his fault. He refuses to listen to my mom or doctors who agree with her, and ends up getting sick. He had to be admitted last Wednesday because he wasn't taking care of himself. It's been difficult for my mom to deal with. He gives her such bad anxiety, and her blood pressure has been through the roof. I understand just how stressed she is, but she hasn't been handling it well at all.

My mom is a complicated person. She didn't get to live the life she wanted, so she tried living vicariously through us, which means an interesting mix of independence, freedom, and obedience. I get it, I know that she has her reasons. And hey, we all turned out better than our cousins, so she did a lot of things right. But in the last four years, she's been making the mistake of taking her frustration and grief out on us.

When my godmother died of cancer, she was apathetic and depressed. So she belittled us sometimes. She made rude comments about our friends. She never said anything overtly mean, but it hurt all the same. When Luis died of cancer, she was shaken. She was angry. She was betrayed. He could have gotten better, but he decided to give up. He stopped eating and he couldn't do the chemo treatment. His family made him think he got cancer because he was gay, so by the time he died, he repented and disavowed his queerness. They made him believe he was a sinner and got him back into the church, yet they had the audacity to say they supported his way of life. She did all she could, and she was by his side the entire journey. So for him to listen to them and not her? It killed her a little bit inside. And then his family didn't want to give my mom things he left her, which caused a huge rift. She had a hard time dealing with it, so she was more snappish. She yelled a lot more. She cried more. It was heartbreaking, so I forgave her. It hurt like hell, though, every time she would look at me like I had two heads whenever I would say anything to reference my lesbianism. 

Things got better. For a year and a half, no one died. No one got seriously hurt. But then my grandpa got sick. Suddenly we all got very comfortable at the hospital. I saw my family more in that time than I ever had in the years before. We saw each other every month, and during this past summer, we held more parties at my house than we had ever before. My mom had to convert my brother's old room into a guest bedroom where my grandpa could sleep when he stayed with us. With that came strain we didn't know. Before, there was grief. We were all dealing with loss. This time, we had to deal with prolonged illness with no definite timetable. My grandpa is incredibly selfish, and seems to expect my mom to wait on him hand and foot. It's killing her to have to deal with him, so she releases her frustration on us. It gets hard, sometimes. This break was hard because she seemed to target me specifically.

 I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, and I know we butt heads a lot, but it feels more and more painful the longer it goes on. We have full-on yelling matches sometimes. I get mad and she gets mad and then we both end up yelling. I hate it. I try to help out, but sometimes I can be vindictive. Sometimes I want to defy her because I finally had a taste of freedom and respect, and I come home to my mom trying to control everything. Granted, she did let us use the car whenever, and we got to sleep in. It wasn't all bad. But there was a constant tension. I don't think anyone else felt it, but the tension between us was palpable to me. Some days were really good. Some days were really bad. It depended on our moods. Plus, I was sick, so she was getting mad at me out of fear. But that doesn't excuse it all.

I guess the point of this post is to get out my frustration. I'm very happy to be back at the dorms, but I feel conflicted. I feel bad for being happy to be out of the house. I feel like I should miss it. I miss certain parts, but I relish in the freedom I have here. Mom got better about me being gay, but I still had to hide it at home. Watching One Day at a Time on Netflix helped me to get over that for the most part, though. I realize that her whole idea of me changed. I know that the future she planned for me is shattered. I know that she's afraid for me, and that we won't have a strong bond. I just hope that one day we can actually talk about it. One day I want to have a healthy relationship with my mother, but I have no idea when that day will come.

Well that was heavy and angsty. Sorry. I just needed to get my thoughts out. Don't think my mom is a bad mother. She's great, but she has her flaws. Who doesn't? I certainly don't claim to be anywhere close to perfect. Everyone has their issues, and we can only exist in peace is we make an effort to understand that no one is above it. We all have pain, and that pain is valid.

With those somewhat uplifting words, I leave you.

So long for now.