Does this mean I'm regressing, or am I just an addict for teen television drama?
So I lied.
Nothing bad, in any sense of what lying is. Lord knows my parents think I've done enough of that over the past couple of years. Little daily reminders of why they don't trust me really doesn't help me build a better picture of them (nor makes me feel more comfortable about myself). And so I'm faced with this eensy-weensy internal struggle of suppressing my anger and finding ways to make my current living situation better.
I've started regularly watching "Dawson's Creek" to find those answers. As cliche' as that sounds (not to mention downright sad that I'm looking towards cable television for assistance in my everyday life), I've found that something I watched in High School - off and on as it was, t.v. was not a luxury I afforded myself - has many implications to my living situation of today.
Taking into account the similarities (then and now):
My being uncomfortable and sometimes unable to really be myself around my parents.
Incapable of expressing anything homosexual.
Suppression of anger/resentment.
Signs of suffocation/smothering because of a supposed lack of being responsible.
I've been able to get a better picture of what my parents are (and what they went through) by watching this drama unfold on t.v. The hostility and resentment that Jack holds toward his Father is parallel to what I feel for my parents sometimes on a daily basis. Granted, Jack was kicked out of his house by his Father and was forced to reside in his ex-girlfriend's house for a year, but still... the aftermath of the situation is pretty much on par with what I've been experiencing as of late.
I want to bring boys over. Not just any boys... but boys that I'm interested in. I wish to be comfortable enough in my immediate surroundings that the thought of being ashamed of my parents wouldn't even have to enter the playing field. The desire to do better by them - and to hopefully have them do better by me - is a wanting that I'm beginning to realize can never be satiated to the extent that I wish it could be. The give and the take is not universally enacted.
Jack and his Father had a heart-to-heart (as everyone in that show does) and Jack asked him "Why, after a year, do you decide to take this time to get to know me." and it really hit me that neither of my parents seem invested in wanting to get to know their son anymore. Sure, they want to see me succeed in my new job, they want me to get the most affordable medical insurance I can get, and they want the car I bought from them to last forever (not to mention hope I never get a speeding ticket), but they've never once in the five years since I've come out to them asked me how I was feeling, whom I was seeing, or whether I'm taking care of myself mentally and physically.
My time should've come by now, dammit.
Jack's Father replied with this: "Someone had to make the first move. I figure, given that I'm your Father, it had to be me."
So why do I feel that I'm the one making all the moves? Why is it that everyday feels like an acquiescance on some other level? How come the playing field I walk every single day seems to change with each passing step? This is my House for all my bitching and complaining is doing. I should'nt have to arrange a dance card to effectively step around inside my house and hope that I don't smash anyone's feet.
Maybe it's because they offered me a roof over my head and minimal rent payments until my subbing job starts up. Maybe it's because they don't know how to react anymore. Maybe it's because they think everything is okay, and there's no reason for them to think that their son will be doing any more changing... they like what they see, and they hope I stay that way.
Everyday is leaving me so completely drained, that I don't think I can give anymore. I can't keep reading the paper and see LGBT issues being fought on a national level and be forced to stifle my opinion because my parents "don't talk about things like that." I shouldn't be guilty for shaming the family name if someone finds out that I like boys. My choice to get HIV/AIDS blood tests on a quarterly basis should NOT go under a scrutinizing eye just because I WANT TO PLAY IT SAFE.
When asked where I'm going to sleep when I go out to Oberlin I want to tell my parents "I'm going to sleep over at Frankie's. For all intents and purposes, he's my boyfriend." But instead, I have to say "I'm staying over at Frankie's. He's an RA in Barrow's, and he's got an extra bed that I can sleep on."
It's the truth, it's not a lie, so why do my parents make me feel like it's the contrary? Half of my clothing goes un-worn because the shirts are too tight and I fear my piercings will show up and my Dad will make me remove them. I hide in my room and read all of my newly-purchased books, or I sit in front of the computer and burn cd's or play loud shoot-em-up video games. I try and pretend that they aren't there, so it will afford me some comfort that they're not picking apart something about me for another day.
I purchased a very expensive sculpture which encapsulated my past five years in Oberlin and what my parents meant to me on that journey... and my worst fears were confirmed. They didn't understand its meaning. They treated it like a Home Economics project or something I would cobble together in Shop Class. I got a hug and a hand shake. I get those on a daily basis, guys.
I've flipped this issue over frontwards, backwards, upwards and downwards, and I can't see any reason why I'm not in the right on this one. And you know what? This kind of victory doesn't make you feel good.
Not at all.
Nothing bad, in any sense of what lying is. Lord knows my parents think I've done enough of that over the past couple of years. Little daily reminders of why they don't trust me really doesn't help me build a better picture of them (nor makes me feel more comfortable about myself). And so I'm faced with this eensy-weensy internal struggle of suppressing my anger and finding ways to make my current living situation better.
I've started regularly watching "Dawson's Creek" to find those answers. As cliche' as that sounds (not to mention downright sad that I'm looking towards cable television for assistance in my everyday life), I've found that something I watched in High School - off and on as it was, t.v. was not a luxury I afforded myself - has many implications to my living situation of today.
Taking into account the similarities (then and now):
My being uncomfortable and sometimes unable to really be myself around my parents.
Incapable of expressing anything homosexual.
Suppression of anger/resentment.
Signs of suffocation/smothering because of a supposed lack of being responsible.
I've been able to get a better picture of what my parents are (and what they went through) by watching this drama unfold on t.v. The hostility and resentment that Jack holds toward his Father is parallel to what I feel for my parents sometimes on a daily basis. Granted, Jack was kicked out of his house by his Father and was forced to reside in his ex-girlfriend's house for a year, but still... the aftermath of the situation is pretty much on par with what I've been experiencing as of late.
I want to bring boys over. Not just any boys... but boys that I'm interested in. I wish to be comfortable enough in my immediate surroundings that the thought of being ashamed of my parents wouldn't even have to enter the playing field. The desire to do better by them - and to hopefully have them do better by me - is a wanting that I'm beginning to realize can never be satiated to the extent that I wish it could be. The give and the take is not universally enacted.
Jack and his Father had a heart-to-heart (as everyone in that show does) and Jack asked him "Why, after a year, do you decide to take this time to get to know me." and it really hit me that neither of my parents seem invested in wanting to get to know their son anymore. Sure, they want to see me succeed in my new job, they want me to get the most affordable medical insurance I can get, and they want the car I bought from them to last forever (not to mention hope I never get a speeding ticket), but they've never once in the five years since I've come out to them asked me how I was feeling, whom I was seeing, or whether I'm taking care of myself mentally and physically.
My time should've come by now, dammit.
Jack's Father replied with this: "Someone had to make the first move. I figure, given that I'm your Father, it had to be me."
So why do I feel that I'm the one making all the moves? Why is it that everyday feels like an acquiescance on some other level? How come the playing field I walk every single day seems to change with each passing step? This is my House for all my bitching and complaining is doing. I should'nt have to arrange a dance card to effectively step around inside my house and hope that I don't smash anyone's feet.
Maybe it's because they offered me a roof over my head and minimal rent payments until my subbing job starts up. Maybe it's because they don't know how to react anymore. Maybe it's because they think everything is okay, and there's no reason for them to think that their son will be doing any more changing... they like what they see, and they hope I stay that way.
Everyday is leaving me so completely drained, that I don't think I can give anymore. I can't keep reading the paper and see LGBT issues being fought on a national level and be forced to stifle my opinion because my parents "don't talk about things like that." I shouldn't be guilty for shaming the family name if someone finds out that I like boys. My choice to get HIV/AIDS blood tests on a quarterly basis should NOT go under a scrutinizing eye just because I WANT TO PLAY IT SAFE.
When asked where I'm going to sleep when I go out to Oberlin I want to tell my parents "I'm going to sleep over at Frankie's. For all intents and purposes, he's my boyfriend." But instead, I have to say "I'm staying over at Frankie's. He's an RA in Barrow's, and he's got an extra bed that I can sleep on."
It's the truth, it's not a lie, so why do my parents make me feel like it's the contrary? Half of my clothing goes un-worn because the shirts are too tight and I fear my piercings will show up and my Dad will make me remove them. I hide in my room and read all of my newly-purchased books, or I sit in front of the computer and burn cd's or play loud shoot-em-up video games. I try and pretend that they aren't there, so it will afford me some comfort that they're not picking apart something about me for another day.
I purchased a very expensive sculpture which encapsulated my past five years in Oberlin and what my parents meant to me on that journey... and my worst fears were confirmed. They didn't understand its meaning. They treated it like a Home Economics project or something I would cobble together in Shop Class. I got a hug and a hand shake. I get those on a daily basis, guys.
I've flipped this issue over frontwards, backwards, upwards and downwards, and I can't see any reason why I'm not in the right on this one. And you know what? This kind of victory doesn't make you feel good.
Not at all.