So...she called most of the night, and started in again at 7am this morning. I finally got sick of my phone flashing (I had it on silent since she just keeps calling, but there's still a light that blinks at me angrily). And I was starting to feel kinda bad for ignoring her, so against my better judgment I answered on about her 30th call of the day.
She asked how long I had been in Switzerland. I told her I've never been there, and had been in Sweden. She said that someone told her Switzerland, so I told her they were mistaken. Apparently, that was super offensive to her because she starting yelling about how "well, all those years of schooling made you a smart mouth sarcastic bitch." I hadn't said it with any sarcasm, but sure thing. The only reason I didn't hang up on her is because I know she's manic. Not that it excuses her, but meh. Anyway, she played 20 questions with me for awhile, and ended up asking if I'm working. I said no, I'm laid off at the moment. At this, she perked up and told me I should come out and clean her house because she's in a wheelchair and the house is therefore dirty.
Just....no fucking way in hell. No. First of all, she wouldn't be grilling me with questions if she didn't intend to talk to my dad about me, and I DO NOT want anything to do with him. Also, there's no way out to her house, it's an old farm way out in the country. And I just frankly don't want to go out there and clean the place. She suggested my dad could bring me out and then got mad when I told her I don't wanna see my dad, because "he hasn't done anything to you!!1"
FUCK. YOU. The asshole kicked me out to fucking DIE. I don't give a fuck if he's your kid, he did that and I am completely and totally JUSTIFIED in wanting nothing to do with that side of my family. I have been trying to get over this shit for years now.
Maybe that makes me a bad granddaughter. I have no idea. But my grandma gets extremely mean, and my grandpa is an abusive racist homophobic asshole, and I don't see why I need to be around these people. What good will it do any of us? They haven't been part of my life for years.
I'm just really, really stressed about all this. Sorry for venting at everyone.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Do. Not. Fucking. WANT!
Sigh. I don't know why it is that I can't live in peace, avoiding the people I wish to avoid. I am an adult, and I should think that if I do not wish to associate with my father or any of his family I should fucking be afforded that right. Apparently not, because at approximately 8:23 this evening my phone rang. Upon seeing that the number was my bipolar paternal grandmother's, I decided not to answer. Mainly because my number is not listed and I have not given it to her, so I was wary and scared of how she had gotten it.
Now, as I said, she's bipolar. That's the side of the family it comes from. My dad is as well, but his mom...well, she tends to get pretty manic once or twice a year. Her mania generally involves calling people constantly, and I do mean fucking constantly. After her first call and voicemail, she wound up leaving me six more in a span of half an hour. All the messages are "Heather...this is your grandma Janet. I'm going to bed soon but I'm waiting for you to call..." Sounds harmless, I know, but SEVEN of them in half an hour? No. Just no. This woman never tries to seek me out when she's not manic. Ever. That being the case, I've only spoken to her several times since my dad threw me out of the house, and those times were because my other family members gave her my number.
Now, I suppose they think that they're being nice, and that I'm an asshole for not wanting to talk to my grandmother. Okay, fair point, But the only thing she does when I do talk to her is yell at me for not keeping in touch better, and asking me every single detail of my life so she can report it back to my father. Her son, the man who threw me out to die the second I turned 18 and was no longer his legal responsibility. I'm a type one diabetic and had just started my senior year of high school, but so what? Wasn't HIS problem. And I'm sorry to those who think I suck for not wanting to talk to him, but I don't. I don't want him to have any knowledge of what's going on in my life. And I feel I am perfectly entitled to that.
I live in an apartment in a home owned by my mother's grandmother. Apparently, my grandma Janet has her phone number, because according to my gran she's called three times a day since the day before Christmas. Tonight she asked for my phone number, and my gran GAVE it to her. I suppose I can't be mad at my gran, but for fuck's sake. Why do they think that I need to be in touch with my father's family? She didn't have my number for a REASON. Now my father will have it and he's going to start coming over here like he always fucking does. I have no idea why, he kicked me out so there's no reason for him to come check up on me, but he does it anyway and I am pretty damn anxious about it.
Once upon a time, I wanted to try to have some kind of relationship with my dad. I wanted to salvage something. But it's too damn hard, or I'm too much of a pussy, or something. I can't forget what he did, and the worst part is that he always acts like it was perfectly fine, like it was normal, like I didn't almost fucking DIE because he's a hateful homophobic prick. And while I've made my peace with it in my waking life (I have nightmares about it, probably always will, but I'm actually pretty okay with it in daily life) I cannot fucking be around him. Even the thought of it makes me anxious as hell. I just can't. I wanted to for my brothers, but they're basically strangers to me, and there just isn't a point. It's too much for my head. When I see him I'm reduced to that social recluse scared of breathing the wrong way lest he punch me in the gut for it on one of his bad days.
Just...buh. I'm dreading the next few days because I'm so damn certain he's going to show up and yell at me for not telling him I'm back in America. Logically I know he can't touch me...hell, he's old now, he couldn't hurt me if he wanted to. So why the hell am I so terrified of him?
I gotta get the FUCK out of this town. Posthaste.
In other, better news though, I was able to pay my application fee for Uppsala today. Now I can send in my supporting documentation as well as the scholarship application, and I'm good to go! I also watched Black Swan tonight and am a little weirded out. People have been saying the sex scene is really hot but...no. If that's hot to people, they have extremely limited ideas about lesbian sex. Yeah, the actresses are hot, but the scene is like 20 seconds of boring. The movie was weird as fuck too, and about as subtle as a two by four to the face. Egads, y'all.
Now, as I said, she's bipolar. That's the side of the family it comes from. My dad is as well, but his mom...well, she tends to get pretty manic once or twice a year. Her mania generally involves calling people constantly, and I do mean fucking constantly. After her first call and voicemail, she wound up leaving me six more in a span of half an hour. All the messages are "Heather...this is your grandma Janet. I'm going to bed soon but I'm waiting for you to call..." Sounds harmless, I know, but SEVEN of them in half an hour? No. Just no. This woman never tries to seek me out when she's not manic. Ever. That being the case, I've only spoken to her several times since my dad threw me out of the house, and those times were because my other family members gave her my number.
Now, I suppose they think that they're being nice, and that I'm an asshole for not wanting to talk to my grandmother. Okay, fair point, But the only thing she does when I do talk to her is yell at me for not keeping in touch better, and asking me every single detail of my life so she can report it back to my father. Her son, the man who threw me out to die the second I turned 18 and was no longer his legal responsibility. I'm a type one diabetic and had just started my senior year of high school, but so what? Wasn't HIS problem. And I'm sorry to those who think I suck for not wanting to talk to him, but I don't. I don't want him to have any knowledge of what's going on in my life. And I feel I am perfectly entitled to that.
I live in an apartment in a home owned by my mother's grandmother. Apparently, my grandma Janet has her phone number, because according to my gran she's called three times a day since the day before Christmas. Tonight she asked for my phone number, and my gran GAVE it to her. I suppose I can't be mad at my gran, but for fuck's sake. Why do they think that I need to be in touch with my father's family? She didn't have my number for a REASON. Now my father will have it and he's going to start coming over here like he always fucking does. I have no idea why, he kicked me out so there's no reason for him to come check up on me, but he does it anyway and I am pretty damn anxious about it.
Once upon a time, I wanted to try to have some kind of relationship with my dad. I wanted to salvage something. But it's too damn hard, or I'm too much of a pussy, or something. I can't forget what he did, and the worst part is that he always acts like it was perfectly fine, like it was normal, like I didn't almost fucking DIE because he's a hateful homophobic prick. And while I've made my peace with it in my waking life (I have nightmares about it, probably always will, but I'm actually pretty okay with it in daily life) I cannot fucking be around him. Even the thought of it makes me anxious as hell. I just can't. I wanted to for my brothers, but they're basically strangers to me, and there just isn't a point. It's too much for my head. When I see him I'm reduced to that social recluse scared of breathing the wrong way lest he punch me in the gut for it on one of his bad days.
Just...buh. I'm dreading the next few days because I'm so damn certain he's going to show up and yell at me for not telling him I'm back in America. Logically I know he can't touch me...hell, he's old now, he couldn't hurt me if he wanted to. So why the hell am I so terrified of him?
I gotta get the FUCK out of this town. Posthaste.
In other, better news though, I was able to pay my application fee for Uppsala today. Now I can send in my supporting documentation as well as the scholarship application, and I'm good to go! I also watched Black Swan tonight and am a little weirded out. People have been saying the sex scene is really hot but...no. If that's hot to people, they have extremely limited ideas about lesbian sex. Yeah, the actresses are hot, but the scene is like 20 seconds of boring. The movie was weird as fuck too, and about as subtle as a two by four to the face. Egads, y'all.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Bipolarity
Today is Christmas Eve, and a lot of people In the US have celebrations today. Tomorrow too, but today is still big. My family is very nontraditional when it comes to holiday stuff, and we usually just gather at my aunt's and eat some weird kind of gourmet food that she insists on, usually something elegant like prime rib. Personally I'd rather be traditional and have a turkey and all that stuff, but hey, what can I do.
I've been in Sweden for the past two Christmases. 2008 was spent with DD and her family, and 2009, I was by myself, but in my awesome apartment with good food so it was fine. I did call my family in the States but it never seemed like they missed me, which is probably true, they don't seem to like me much in general lol.
I adore Christmas but it usually makes me kinda lonely. I love all the lights, the music, the decorations, the way people seem to be sweeter to one another in general (of course, I don't work retail so this little observation hasn't yet been sullied by reality :P). I've always wanted a family, and this seems like the big "family holiday" for most people. I'm a lone wolf in general, but it still kinda hurts.
Anyway, I'd been somewhat dreading going to my aunt's tonight. I'd been informed by my grandpa that "oh, well, she invited you" which I still think is a bit odd...I mean, I'm family, shouldn't it just be expected that I be there? I know I haven't been in the country at the holidays for years, but still, I'd never thought my family would feel the need to "invite" me to the Christmas celebration.
My anxiety had been going haywire over the prospect of sitting around trying to make conversation with all these people, and the uncle who doesn't like me at all, and the fact that since being laid off I can't even afford to buy any gifts for anyone, and I just wasn't looking forward to it. So, yesterday I called my grandpa and tried to explain that it's just not a comfortable situation for me, and that I'm sure no one really cares whether I'm there or not. He got mad and said that I'll have to make conversation with people my whole life and that I need to stop using the anxiety as an excuse so often. And while he's right...these people never act like they want me around, so really, why should I go and subject myself to hours upon hours of feeling anxious and awkward? I told him I was sorry but that I couldn't do it.
This morning, he called to make sure I wasn't coming, and told me that I was still "invited." Yeah, thanks. Got it. Then he said that with all the snow (we've gotten about 6 inches in this area so driving sucks right now) it'd be a "real nuisance" to come pick me up anyway. I know what he meant, but just...gah.
I know this post is kind of emo and whiny but sometimes I just don't understand why my family are such asses to me all the time. Makes me feel horrible. I take solace in the fact that I have lovely friends who care about me and have wished me Merry Christmas. I'm gonna spend tonight and tomorrow curled up in my blankie and slippers, watching the final season of Seinfeld and then Undeclared. I'm also gonna make the trek down the block to the gas station and get myself some chocolate, which I only get a craving for about twice a year anyway. I have one now, though, and I see no reason to deny myself. I'm also gonna make sure I have food and stuff to make it until the City wakes up and gets things cleared off so the buses can run. I'll also be able to see the clerks who work there, who are pretty much all my buddies since I live so close and am in there so much lol. I think that'll be good for cheering me up. Then I'll put on some Christmas music and forget that my family kinda sucks in general. Next year, and hopefully every year after that, I'll be in Sweden at least somewhat close to my real family, so it's gonna be just fine.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
I've been in Sweden for the past two Christmases. 2008 was spent with DD and her family, and 2009, I was by myself, but in my awesome apartment with good food so it was fine. I did call my family in the States but it never seemed like they missed me, which is probably true, they don't seem to like me much in general lol.
I adore Christmas but it usually makes me kinda lonely. I love all the lights, the music, the decorations, the way people seem to be sweeter to one another in general (of course, I don't work retail so this little observation hasn't yet been sullied by reality :P). I've always wanted a family, and this seems like the big "family holiday" for most people. I'm a lone wolf in general, but it still kinda hurts.
Anyway, I'd been somewhat dreading going to my aunt's tonight. I'd been informed by my grandpa that "oh, well, she invited you" which I still think is a bit odd...I mean, I'm family, shouldn't it just be expected that I be there? I know I haven't been in the country at the holidays for years, but still, I'd never thought my family would feel the need to "invite" me to the Christmas celebration.
My anxiety had been going haywire over the prospect of sitting around trying to make conversation with all these people, and the uncle who doesn't like me at all, and the fact that since being laid off I can't even afford to buy any gifts for anyone, and I just wasn't looking forward to it. So, yesterday I called my grandpa and tried to explain that it's just not a comfortable situation for me, and that I'm sure no one really cares whether I'm there or not. He got mad and said that I'll have to make conversation with people my whole life and that I need to stop using the anxiety as an excuse so often. And while he's right...these people never act like they want me around, so really, why should I go and subject myself to hours upon hours of feeling anxious and awkward? I told him I was sorry but that I couldn't do it.
This morning, he called to make sure I wasn't coming, and told me that I was still "invited." Yeah, thanks. Got it. Then he said that with all the snow (we've gotten about 6 inches in this area so driving sucks right now) it'd be a "real nuisance" to come pick me up anyway. I know what he meant, but just...gah.
I know this post is kind of emo and whiny but sometimes I just don't understand why my family are such asses to me all the time. Makes me feel horrible. I take solace in the fact that I have lovely friends who care about me and have wished me Merry Christmas. I'm gonna spend tonight and tomorrow curled up in my blankie and slippers, watching the final season of Seinfeld and then Undeclared. I'm also gonna make the trek down the block to the gas station and get myself some chocolate, which I only get a craving for about twice a year anyway. I have one now, though, and I see no reason to deny myself. I'm also gonna make sure I have food and stuff to make it until the City wakes up and gets things cleared off so the buses can run. I'll also be able to see the clerks who work there, who are pretty much all my buddies since I live so close and am in there so much lol. I think that'll be good for cheering me up. Then I'll put on some Christmas music and forget that my family kinda sucks in general. Next year, and hopefully every year after that, I'll be in Sweden at least somewhat close to my real family, so it's gonna be just fine.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
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