(no subject)
And college application issues (surrouding the sister, who wasn't there) come up at dinner, and it turns into a discussion of family issues. It could have been about 3000 times worse. Perhaps we inched somewhere, my mother and I, and I know I got more practice with my shelter-style methods of keeping some control of the situation. At one point they both started talkign at me together, and I started upping the volume to combat it, and I caught it, said that we needed to cool out and thus announced (fully aware of how ridiculous it sounded) that I would now take a walk around the downstairs before we resumed, which I did, and which effectively stopped the escalation.
I must recall that my father is not worth my heart's blood. Like I said to a friend recently, maintain your standard of acceptability, health, sanity. If you sacrifice it for someone behaving in a less appropriate (or compassionate? Clear-headed? Stable? Responsable?) manner, you will only deprive them of the chance to climb past where they are, as well as deal yourself severe damage through the sacrifice. Sacrifice for something higher, not something that will tangle you up and drag yourself to its level of confusion. I do not believe he is capable of the kind of compassionate consideration (please don't talk to me when I'm writing, etc) that I have found everywhere else that I have lived, in dorms, with teachers, employers, et cetera. I will not teach him, the sacrifice is not worth the life I could live if I didn't have so many wounds to lick. My mother and I are moving forward, and I note that the Thanksgiving crashlanding only got really intolerable when he got involved. I can always walk away. I can always walk away. And if ever there is a time I can't, I know how to get free now. I must remember that I am allowed to defend my safety and the integrity of my mind and body if it is threatened. Fight costs, but flight is almost free.
It went comparatively well, but I feel sore, like Ive been slightly flayed, or had sex with someone rough and oblivious. That's an odd metaphore to come from me, I know, as I've never done such a thing, nor have I the sort of experience that in my mind goes with so flippant a reference, but the sense of risking something vulnerable, and of attempting intimacy, and ending comparatively well and successfully, but with lots of bruising, it feels about right.
Strong enough to do this. I am strong enough to do this, and barrign disaster (it which I poray that I'd still fight till I had no more) I need never accept such behavior again. I know that it's wrong. I know that pouring out this sacrifice to create a place of more compassion is right. These rules are higher than Newton.
No wonder I get religious when I'm home. I will not turn the other cheek, and I'll catch the upraised hand before it hits the man who does turn his cheek to take it.
Blessed be all.
I must recall that my father is not worth my heart's blood. Like I said to a friend recently, maintain your standard of acceptability, health, sanity. If you sacrifice it for someone behaving in a less appropriate (or compassionate? Clear-headed? Stable? Responsable?) manner, you will only deprive them of the chance to climb past where they are, as well as deal yourself severe damage through the sacrifice. Sacrifice for something higher, not something that will tangle you up and drag yourself to its level of confusion. I do not believe he is capable of the kind of compassionate consideration (please don't talk to me when I'm writing, etc) that I have found everywhere else that I have lived, in dorms, with teachers, employers, et cetera. I will not teach him, the sacrifice is not worth the life I could live if I didn't have so many wounds to lick. My mother and I are moving forward, and I note that the Thanksgiving crashlanding only got really intolerable when he got involved. I can always walk away. I can always walk away. And if ever there is a time I can't, I know how to get free now. I must remember that I am allowed to defend my safety and the integrity of my mind and body if it is threatened. Fight costs, but flight is almost free.
It went comparatively well, but I feel sore, like Ive been slightly flayed, or had sex with someone rough and oblivious. That's an odd metaphore to come from me, I know, as I've never done such a thing, nor have I the sort of experience that in my mind goes with so flippant a reference, but the sense of risking something vulnerable, and of attempting intimacy, and ending comparatively well and successfully, but with lots of bruising, it feels about right.
Strong enough to do this. I am strong enough to do this, and barrign disaster (it which I poray that I'd still fight till I had no more) I need never accept such behavior again. I know that it's wrong. I know that pouring out this sacrifice to create a place of more compassion is right. These rules are higher than Newton.
No wonder I get religious when I'm home. I will not turn the other cheek, and I'll catch the upraised hand before it hits the man who does turn his cheek to take it.
Blessed be all.