Relationships that aren’t with zombies

I was just thinking about the relationships in my life.  I was also thinking about how relationships in our lives change us and form us.

Some relationships are good and make us better people.  Some relationships are bad, but also make us better people.  I know this seems like a contrary idea, but let me explain. 

The best relationship that I have in my life is probably with my friend Di.  Now, we will both be the first to tell you that we are each other’s soulmates.  We were meant to be together, be friends, make up for each other’s shortcomings, be strong when the other cannot, be weak when the other is not.  We have always been a beautiful yin and yang relationship.

On the other hand, I have a horrible relationship with my full brother.  Now, we have the same parents (or so they both allege), but for some reason unknown to anyone but the most wise of magi, I suppose, we have never seen eye to eye.  I am the weird sister.  Funny thing is that I have gotten over it.  He never has.  At some point, you have to say that this is my sister, and I understand that she may seem odd, but she’s my sister and this is the way she is and I must get over it and move on with my life.  But no, instead, he chooses to slam me at every opportunity and prosecute me for being different. 

The other relationship that I have in my life that causes me drama is my father.  I’ve never been on what anyone would consider really great terms with my dad.  I’ve really more tolerated him in life.  You know, a necessary evil because he claims to be your parent.  I think back at some of the pretty important events in my life, and my dad is rarely in the pictures in my head.  Strange, huh?

So, the point of this blog is how these two relationships that aren’t good in my life have crashed headlong into each other making what potentially could become a huge drama situation.  However, I decided to take the upper hand. 

It’s no secret that I can count the number of conversations on one hand that I’ve had with my dad in the last year.  It’s no secret that he was WRONG! in this situation.  And not just a little wrong, I mean all capital letters with lots of exclamation points wrong. 

Sometimes in this day and age of technology we forget that our private thoughts are not always so private.  Occasionally we slip and they are all out in the open for everyone to see.  Of course, I have more experience with this than most people because when I have a meltdown, it’s often beyond my control and happens in places where I have no control over the environment and everyone sees it.  So, I posted on FB a little issue I was having, and my brother, who is certifiably an ass decided to go off on me.  That’s all fine and dandy.

But it started me thinking.  I mean beyond the idea that I’m pretty sure my brother and I do not have the same father because his father sounds great and my father is an ass.  I even called my mom and asked her if we actually do have the same father.  But I thought about how this strained lifelong relationship has made me a better person.

Because I have gone through life with a father who never has picked me first for anything.  I’ve just never been that important.  Consequently, most of my relationships with men have been somewhat in the same vein.  I mean that I put up with shit that I would never put up with normally because I have learned that I am not worthy of being first for anyone.  I have also put up with relationships where the other person was waiting for me to stop being weird. Just a clue: probably not going to happen.  I am 41 years old.  I’ve always been weird and I’m pretty sure that I can’t change that.  No amount of waiting is going to magically make me not weird. 

I do have to give my brother and my dad some credit for waiting all of these years and holding out hope that I would wake up and not be weird  one day. But it hasn’t happened. 

So, my response.  First of all, he’s my brother, he’s known me all his life and he still can’t spell my name.  I almost commented back and then I thought…Really?  I decided that he wasn’t worth it and I deleted him.  Well, I deleted his wife from my friend list.  Now, I am wishing that it were that easy to get people out of your life.  Just press delete.  Genius!

So, back to the point.  How has having these two relationships in my life made me better?  Well, not being accepted by members of your own family is difficult. But it also makes you stronger.  If you can’t get in good with the people who are supposed to love you regardless then you spend life looking for approval in other places.

You also come to accept yourself for who and what you are without any sense of pride to it.  You think that you are not worthy of being treated well.  You begin to believe that you deserve to be treated badly.  Afterall, the two men in your life who should care, don’t.  You must have something seriously wrong with you.

I feel like I’m stronger for this drama induced crap.  I have learned that I don’t need anyone to validate myself.  I can do it for myself.  I have learned that people you should be able to count on are never where they should be.

I’m going to continue thinking about this.  It seems like it will be important someday.

Graduation Horror Stories Pt. 2

Now, I think I am ready to write about the graduation!  The Best Buy guy and I drove over to Ohio and picked up my mom for Wee Geek’s graduation.  The BB guy’s parents and nephew went down separately.  We went to what could possibly be the most bizarre graduation ceremony ever.  First of all it was at a church, not the ex’s church, but a different one.  Thank goodness for small favours, I say.

So, we wander around, me looking for my ex, because I expect him to go insane and attack me.  The church is packed and people are saving entire rows, which to me was ridiculous.  But I digress.  We finally find seats and I’m worried they are awful.  We are to the extreme left of the stage and practically behind the screens showing graduate pictures.

We have to sit through some of the most boring speeches I’ve ever heard.  Three “musical” acts.  I’m thinking how bizarre.  The BB guy finally spots the ex in the balcony.  My mother is amazed at how fat he is.  400 pounds is a little hard on the eyes.  I swear I just saw him a month ago and he was looking even fatter than then.  His hair is to his shoulders now and looked filthy.  A sign to me that he’s doing drugs again.

So, finally we spot Wee Geek among the graduates.  He was looking nervous, pale, too skinny, and scared.  Not much trace of happiness.  We finally get to the graduation part and when they get close to Wee Geek’s name, I go down to the floor to take pictures.  I keep a wawtchful eye on the balcony and see my ex jump up, too.  I’m not sure he ever pointed the camera at Wee Geek.  I had the very creepy feeling that he was taking pictures of me.  At some point, he disappeared.  I get no good pictures which pisses me off because I know it’s because a) I haven’t been able to eat for a week and b) every tremor that I have is highlighted and makes the camera shake like crazy.  Plus I’m nervous that my ex is going to come down and wig out on me.

So, a few minutes later I see a 400 pound monstrosity come around the back of the auditorium and stop at the doors directly behind our seats.  I look back and see a camera lens poking through the windows of the doors.  Now, why the hell he thought this was important to do, I don’t know.  I just imagine him going into court and showing the judge these pictures as if there is something wrong with it.  I must really be a bad mother.  I went to see my son graduate.  I should be shot.  Oh wait, that’s what he was doing….shooting me so he could incriminate me in some way.  Somehow, I know that it will be made into some horrid thing in court, but I don’t care.

So, we decide after some debate to go and try to talk to Wee Geek.  I was terrified that if I didn’t do it then, I wouldn’t get the chance.  Above all, I wanted him to know that I came for him.  So, we go up, the BB guy calls his name and he turns around.  He looks surprised and actually happy for a second.  I even thought he was going to hug me.  Then something changed.  He started screaming at me to get out and telling me that I had no right to be there. I didn’t deserve to be there. That he had told people not to let me in.  Which was laughable because they weren’t carding people at the door…but I digress again. 

He was ranting like a lunatic.  He kept saying that his mother and father had forsaken him….which I don’t understand.  My mother told him he should be ashamed of himself.  He ranted about wanting me to apologise to him.  He ranted about how he needed discipline and he never would have graduated if he’d stayed with us.  I was just flabbergasted.  I couldn’t even believe the crap that was coming out of his mouth.

I hope my ex is proud of himself.  Wee Geek looked thin (which judging from the size of my ex, must mean he’s eating all of Wee Geek’s meals) and drugged up.  He’s made Wee Geek too scared to think for himself.  He is no longer my little boy.  He’s made him into a lunatic. I feel as if all of the work I put into him has gone to waste. 

I have never given up on Wee Geek.  I never put him in a position where I felt that he could not make good positive choices for himself.  He is scared, maybe even frightened to death, now.  I feel like he was putting on a huge show that his life depended on.  He did say he loved me.  He was still an ass, though.

I have been trying to decide how I feel about it all day.  I think if I’d not seen that moment of happiness, I’d have walked out in front of a bus.

There are some very important points that need to be addressed here.  We are still talking about a kid who has a significant disability.  We are talking about a kid who has had a crazy abuser who has been in this child’s face and indoctrinating him with nothing but crap for 3 years.  I still maintain that when you keep a seed in the dark and feed them nothing but shit, you are going to get a mushroom.

He’s on way too much medication.  He is too thin.  He is pale.  He looks dirty.  He is absolutely sold out to a cult.  I have no idea what to do.  I’m pretty sure that someone should be involved in this.  But I’m pretty sure that my ex will convince them that he’s so wonderful because of his church membership.  Where are all the truly good atheists when you need them?    They aren’t social workers, that’s for sure.

How can a kid with Asperger’s get out of such an impossible situation?  Our judge is crazy and has labeled me unfit because of my Asperger’s.  There is no good service advocate out there for people like me. Or him.

I feel so broken hearted, but I just don’t think that anyone else cares.  I left the ex so that my kid would not have to grow up that way.  This is worse than anything I could have imanaged, though.  This is all of my worst nightmares, all rolled into 3 years.  I honestly felt like last night that I couldn’t go any farther.  I wanted to just go commit myself.  Maybe it’s not Asperger’s.  Maybe I really am crazy. 

Somehow, when I got up this morning, I knew that I needed to fight this too.  I am carrying through with this appeal and there isn’t anyone that can stop me.  The judge might think that he’s not going to entertain this appeal, but he does not have a choice.  My voice is small.  And it’ll certainly get high pitched when I am stressed.  But I will make sure that someone hears me.

I no longer doubt that if an autistic girl screams in the woods, that she will be heard.