I think I've finally cracked.
So I came to a major realization today: I will never live in New York again. For anyone who knows me at all, this is a huge realization. I grew up on Long Island and loved it. When I moved to Florida freshman year of high school, I missed it and wanted nothing more than to return. I had idolized it. I realized that a while ago, but still like it. I'm a proud East Coast, Northeast, New York, Long Island boy. I loved what it represents and am very proud of where I come from. But as we were driving down the rainy highway with a peppy cousin I'd just met in the backseat, on our way to visit my paternal grandmother that I've only seen twice in her Medicare/Medicaid covered nursing home, I realized there is just too much pain here. There are too many bad memories I've suppressed or twisted into something good. It will never be what I thought it was/is/might one day be. It'll always just be the place with good food where my Dad grew up in severely broken home and nearly shot his brother. It'll always be the place where my mother realized her mother was maniacal at the age of seven and then watched her secret half-sister be drawn in and broken from the perfect kindergarten teacher to a corrections officer in a dysfunctional relationship (something we all seem to have and I wonder if I'm doomed to...a major part of the reason I don't really put myself out there. I'm afraid of an imperfect relationship and will of course find nothing else).
When I come back here or speak to someone who I grew up with here, I become a me that I don't like and never have. I can't move on until I officially move away, never to return. I thought about where I can go. There is too much pain in Florida and South Carolina, too, but not as much. I was better at closing off my emotions then. Dartmouth seems to be a relatively safe harbor, as does D.C. But is the whole east coast tainted for me? Will I have to move to South Carolina. I truly wondered today whether the only way I could grow was to move to England, a literal ocean away.
The cause of this incredibly revealing, uncharacteristic, and cathartic rant? I met one of my cousins today. The first thing we did was take family pictures. Family Pictures. I've never had any of my immediate family. A little back story seems appropriate. I grew up only knowing my maternal great-grandmother (since passed), maternal grandmother, and my mother's half-sister (which, by the way, the half-sister doesn't know). My grandmother married twice, both divorced fairly quickly. I was told growing up that my father's family were 'bad people'. From what I know understand, it was mostly my maternal grandmother's doing. She's a great guilter and the cause of much pain this particular vacation. So it went, and I thought about it less and less. Then my parents got divorced. One day, we just went to his parent's house. I met another unmarried aunt and my grandparents. I don't even know what to say about how awkward it was. I don't know what I expected, but I certainly didn't get it. My dad started telling us stories we never heard about him when he was younger and about his family (see gun threatening above - that uncle is also an ex-convict). I found out about cousins I have, cousins I always really dreamed of having. Then I find out my grandfather died and I felt nothing, but then I felt like shit for feeling nothing. Then all of the sudden, my older brother and father (both still in NY) go on a family kick, meeting all of these people. I actually only now vaguely remember meeting someone I believe was my father's aunt (?). So they met some cousins or something.
Well, today I did, too. We met her at a mall in Bay Shore. And we took pictures. We sat next to each other like we did every year. The woman in the store kept calling them family pictures. How do you have insta-family? Add three drops of water, an awkward intro, 5 portraits, and bam, you're done? I just couldn't take it. I just sat there all day in a daze. I felt like a complete ass for being like that (because anyone who's ever met me knows I'm not shy). I just couldn't take all of the togetherness. Then, as a family activity, we go to visit grandma in the nursing home. We walked in and its the most depressing place I've ever been. All of the poor elderly people were just so helpless and you just knew that it was a place where people go to wait for death. So I saw my grandmother for the third time, the second time in a nursing home/hospital (the last was two years ago or last year on Christmas after she had a heart attack). She barely recognized my father and obviously didn't know us. So we sat there for an hour, talking, while she looked at us and marvelled at our size. I wished she knew who the hell I was and that she never met me at the same time. We finally got out of there, got pizza, and ate at my brother's new apartment for more family time.
I just can't handle knowing that there are people out there that I should have grown up with, who should have come to my graduation, who's weddings and graduations I should have attended. Sometimes I think that it would really just be best to cut myself off from all of my family and just go. Go somewhere, far away, not look back, and I don't even know what.
I've very recently believed that I should go see a psychiatrist.
When I come back here or speak to someone who I grew up with here, I become a me that I don't like and never have. I can't move on until I officially move away, never to return. I thought about where I can go. There is too much pain in Florida and South Carolina, too, but not as much. I was better at closing off my emotions then. Dartmouth seems to be a relatively safe harbor, as does D.C. But is the whole east coast tainted for me? Will I have to move to South Carolina. I truly wondered today whether the only way I could grow was to move to England, a literal ocean away.
The cause of this incredibly revealing, uncharacteristic, and cathartic rant? I met one of my cousins today. The first thing we did was take family pictures. Family Pictures. I've never had any of my immediate family. A little back story seems appropriate. I grew up only knowing my maternal great-grandmother (since passed), maternal grandmother, and my mother's half-sister (which, by the way, the half-sister doesn't know). My grandmother married twice, both divorced fairly quickly. I was told growing up that my father's family were 'bad people'. From what I know understand, it was mostly my maternal grandmother's doing. She's a great guilter and the cause of much pain this particular vacation. So it went, and I thought about it less and less. Then my parents got divorced. One day, we just went to his parent's house. I met another unmarried aunt and my grandparents. I don't even know what to say about how awkward it was. I don't know what I expected, but I certainly didn't get it. My dad started telling us stories we never heard about him when he was younger and about his family (see gun threatening above - that uncle is also an ex-convict). I found out about cousins I have, cousins I always really dreamed of having. Then I find out my grandfather died and I felt nothing, but then I felt like shit for feeling nothing. Then all of the sudden, my older brother and father (both still in NY) go on a family kick, meeting all of these people. I actually only now vaguely remember meeting someone I believe was my father's aunt (?). So they met some cousins or something.
Well, today I did, too. We met her at a mall in Bay Shore. And we took pictures. We sat next to each other like we did every year. The woman in the store kept calling them family pictures. How do you have insta-family? Add three drops of water, an awkward intro, 5 portraits, and bam, you're done? I just couldn't take it. I just sat there all day in a daze. I felt like a complete ass for being like that (because anyone who's ever met me knows I'm not shy). I just couldn't take all of the togetherness. Then, as a family activity, we go to visit grandma in the nursing home. We walked in and its the most depressing place I've ever been. All of the poor elderly people were just so helpless and you just knew that it was a place where people go to wait for death. So I saw my grandmother for the third time, the second time in a nursing home/hospital (the last was two years ago or last year on Christmas after she had a heart attack). She barely recognized my father and obviously didn't know us. So we sat there for an hour, talking, while she looked at us and marvelled at our size. I wished she knew who the hell I was and that she never met me at the same time. We finally got out of there, got pizza, and ate at my brother's new apartment for more family time.
I just can't handle knowing that there are people out there that I should have grown up with, who should have come to my graduation, who's weddings and graduations I should have attended. Sometimes I think that it would really just be best to cut myself off from all of my family and just go. Go somewhere, far away, not look back, and I don't even know what.
I've very recently believed that I should go see a psychiatrist.