(no subject)
here goes nothing:
my mom came up to see me today and took me out to dinner, for it's my birthday tomorrow, and we had a really nice dinner at the lovely coyote grill. we're very close to a normal relationship, inches away even, this is something i never thought would ever happen, in some ways i kind of gave up on my family, on there ever being anything there for me, but she's there for me now, and we understand each other's insanity on many levels because well, i learned a lot of my defense mechanisms from her, directly or indirectly. It feels really good to have her there.
one of the things we talked about was something i talked to her about while we were in france. the story goes like this:
when I was very young, the sound of me crying was awful, my mom has described it as unbearable, the pitch of it especially(i was born to scream in a metal band, obviously). She couldn't handle hearing that cry, but really, what i think she means, and i don't know if she realizes this, is that she couldn't handle me being sad. She would do anything to avoid hearing that cry, to hear that sound i had the ability to emit.
Down the road, this proved to be a problem, because when you get into kindergarten, and someone takes your batman action figure away from you, and you start to cry about it, the other kid's not going to give it back, he will in fact, make fun of you, and he'll get his friends to make fun of you too. this is exactly what happened to me in elementary school. I would cry in school constantly, over all types of things, if i didn't get something i wanted, if my baseball team lost a game, if someone would make fun of me, it was constant. It probably happened at least once a week, potentially more, i don't really have a way of judging it because it was too long ago.
I can remember myself trying to promise myself in august that this year in school, I wasn't going to cry the whole year, and if I did that, that would solve things, people would see me differently, they wouldn't make fun of me because i was fat, or because i didn't dress like the rest of them, they wouldn't deem me as "sensitive" (who would have ever thought that being called that could have a negative connotation, it did for me, i can specifically remember daniel zuar saying that to me). but that never happened, kindergarten, 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade, were all hell, and honestly, each year got worse and worse, or that's at least how it feels right now.
my father would see me crying and instantly tell me to stop it, and that it wasn't really a big deal. i guess that's the first sign i have of him not having any clue into me, or who i was, or what was happening. i can remember walking home from school, and just wanting to go home and start crying to my mom, because i had had such a horrible day, because the kids were all so mean to me, even my "friends" made fun of me. i remember brad miller, and sean sokolowski, and all of their shitty friends, and i remember hating them because there was absolutely nothing i could do to be at the very least accepted by them. I can still feel that right now, remember it all as I type this.
i guess it was 3rd grade, at least i think it was, where my mom couldn't handle my sadness anymore. i started seeing dr. mischler, the school psycologist. I remember him playing a lot of board games with me, and doing that and only that. It's very strange, thinking about it now, because i remember it being extremely positive. I learned how to play chess via that, as well as other things. I barely remember any type of therapy going on, but i'm sure there was. I started crying in school less, the kids still made fun of me all the time, but at least it wasn't about me crying.
Things got mildly better, I remember having a crush on jacqueline dente in 5th grade, and I remember getting to touch her hair once, and how magical that was.
I think that's going to be it for now, more tomorrow I think, this felt pretty good
my mom came up to see me today and took me out to dinner, for it's my birthday tomorrow, and we had a really nice dinner at the lovely coyote grill. we're very close to a normal relationship, inches away even, this is something i never thought would ever happen, in some ways i kind of gave up on my family, on there ever being anything there for me, but she's there for me now, and we understand each other's insanity on many levels because well, i learned a lot of my defense mechanisms from her, directly or indirectly. It feels really good to have her there.
one of the things we talked about was something i talked to her about while we were in france. the story goes like this:
when I was very young, the sound of me crying was awful, my mom has described it as unbearable, the pitch of it especially(i was born to scream in a metal band, obviously). She couldn't handle hearing that cry, but really, what i think she means, and i don't know if she realizes this, is that she couldn't handle me being sad. She would do anything to avoid hearing that cry, to hear that sound i had the ability to emit.
Down the road, this proved to be a problem, because when you get into kindergarten, and someone takes your batman action figure away from you, and you start to cry about it, the other kid's not going to give it back, he will in fact, make fun of you, and he'll get his friends to make fun of you too. this is exactly what happened to me in elementary school. I would cry in school constantly, over all types of things, if i didn't get something i wanted, if my baseball team lost a game, if someone would make fun of me, it was constant. It probably happened at least once a week, potentially more, i don't really have a way of judging it because it was too long ago.
I can remember myself trying to promise myself in august that this year in school, I wasn't going to cry the whole year, and if I did that, that would solve things, people would see me differently, they wouldn't make fun of me because i was fat, or because i didn't dress like the rest of them, they wouldn't deem me as "sensitive" (who would have ever thought that being called that could have a negative connotation, it did for me, i can specifically remember daniel zuar saying that to me). but that never happened, kindergarten, 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade, were all hell, and honestly, each year got worse and worse, or that's at least how it feels right now.
my father would see me crying and instantly tell me to stop it, and that it wasn't really a big deal. i guess that's the first sign i have of him not having any clue into me, or who i was, or what was happening. i can remember walking home from school, and just wanting to go home and start crying to my mom, because i had had such a horrible day, because the kids were all so mean to me, even my "friends" made fun of me. i remember brad miller, and sean sokolowski, and all of their shitty friends, and i remember hating them because there was absolutely nothing i could do to be at the very least accepted by them. I can still feel that right now, remember it all as I type this.
i guess it was 3rd grade, at least i think it was, where my mom couldn't handle my sadness anymore. i started seeing dr. mischler, the school psycologist. I remember him playing a lot of board games with me, and doing that and only that. It's very strange, thinking about it now, because i remember it being extremely positive. I learned how to play chess via that, as well as other things. I barely remember any type of therapy going on, but i'm sure there was. I started crying in school less, the kids still made fun of me all the time, but at least it wasn't about me crying.
Things got mildly better, I remember having a crush on jacqueline dente in 5th grade, and I remember getting to touch her hair once, and how magical that was.
I think that's going to be it for now, more tomorrow I think, this felt pretty good