I Hate Thanksgiving
I haven't been here twenty-four hours and already I've broken down.
Yesterday was great. the pick-up and drive. The getting here. The issue was that dinner had to be shared with Mellow Aunt and...him.
I got through it. He said hello, I said hello (in a crisp, not even pretending to be alright to see him way. And this was after mother elbowed me). He asked if college was making me any smarter, I said yes. Then, for the rest of dinner, we sat at our respective ends of the table and didn't say anything. I liked it that way. I'm surprised he even said anything past hello, seeing as the last thing he said to me was that I would drop out of college because I'm so weak and childish.
Then today was Thanksgiving. And I slept in and enjoyed a hot shower. Then I got all spriced up fort dinner because a) it is a holiday/special occasion and b) whenever we go somewhere that involves the Baptists, I like to look my best. It's just...yeah.
I greeted people. I was social. I stayed out of the way of food preparation.
And then they showed up. And I said hello to her, because I like her and find her to be very nice. He didn't say hello to me and I didn't even look at him and I thought 'Hooray! He finally gets it!'.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. A few minutes before dinner (we had dinner at one in the afternoon) I'm sitting on one of the stools that sits between the kitchen and dining area. I'm minding my own business and have (stupidly) let my guard down. That's when I hear 'Hello, Kyndra' in my ear and turn to see him not a full foot away from me or my face.
I turn back forward and try to ignore him. He says hello again, so I turn and give him a 'I don't want to speak to you. Go away' look and then turn forward again.
So the bastard proceed to place his hand atop my head and begin stroking my hair.
I jerk away, give him another look, and see he isn't going to leave. So I leave. I hop right up and make my way to another part of the house so that I can breathe and collect myself before it's time to go to the table.
We're at opposite sides, just as my mother assured me we would be if we ended up at the Baptist's for Thanksgiving. Everything is hunky-dory until we have to do a 'What are you thankful for?' thing between dinner and dessert.
What the hell do I say?
I'm thankful that I didn't have a total breakdown at college? That I'm getting laid regularly now and it is awesome? That Fern is such an awesome new friend she trumps that awesome sex? That I don't have to come back here for winter break? That the bastard is at the other end of the table? That I managed not to grab something and bludgeon him when he touched me? Do I say that I'm thankful for my new friends at college? That dogs are fuzzy and a good thing to think about in your downtime? For Doctor Who and Torchwood? For David Ten-Inch and the brilliantly hilarious faces he makes?
I couldn't share any of the things I was really thankful for. Everyone else had or was going to say family, and I only thought of saying that because it seemed the thing to do. (And does that make me a horrible person?) I couldn't be snarky or un-pc or blasphemous. Not that anyone would have appreciated snark, seeing as a good portion of dinner conversation was centered around cow shit. (Classy, I know.)
"Uh...I'm thankful that my first job is awesome and not terrible."
The three after me were Baptist grandchildren. All of them talked about how happy they were to be with their family and to have God seeing them through 'the problems the family is facing' right now with the economy (oh, can you not fly the jet now? Or drive the SUV? Can you not buy a new horse? Sorry, but I have issues feeling sorry for rich people when they complain about money problems. Even if they are as nice as these ones).
Then grandma, who mentioned family and all that. Then Mrs. Baptist, who gave a GIANT speech about how happy she was that my grandmother was bringing two grandhcildren to chruch now, and how she had gotten Lyle and Bernadette to go, and Terry and Dee. Mrs. Baptist just went on and on about how, if Grandma had never started going to church, then the Lord 'could not have used her' to get other people interested. And then she went on about how god gave so much, and if it was in his will to make economic times hard, then surely he would see them through it. And at least the family was becoming closer because of it. And thank the lord for this and that and his almighty grace and may he 'continue to use her'. (She used the term 'use' too. Because getting used by another human is a terrible thing, but being used by god is just divine.) She cut herself off after a few minutes of this and another mention of family and not wanting to take things for granted.
By now I am thoroughly uncomfortable and feeling like a heathen. Yay.
Mr. Baptist also mentioned God and family and money woes.
Then it was he-I-wish-to-kill. He mentioned how thankful he was to be alive. In the eighties he shot himself in the chest and didn't die (proof that god is merciful to those too stupid to help themselves). Then he mentioned the family and the extended family, blah, blah, blah.
His wife had a similiar thing. As did Lyle and Bernadette. Except Bernadette mentioned that she was thankful to the Baptists for all the great things her and Lyle have because of them. Finally! Something secular that isn't family!
Last two of the Baptist brood. A son-in-Law and a grandson. Family and god and his will leading them to better things. Honestly, people, come up with something original.
Then pie. After dishes and cleaning and lots of waiting. I'm also containing the anger I feel inside, because I've already been given a harsh 'stop it' for not accepting the love of my uncle.
Pie time. I am forced to serve my uncle a piece, even after I flat out say "No I won't". More scolding looks.
I eat, I go to the car and start making phone calls. Maybe if I let some of the upsetness out I won't start crying. Oh! Didn't work. Too bad.
Wemmick is voicemail. I don't want to mess with Twinkie when she's at the parent's house. Lisa tells me to take a bubble bath when I get home. Or to just take all of the hot water.
Then I call dad. I've spoken to him today (he calls every Thanksgiving to send good wishes) once already, but I just need a good talk and to stay out in the car more.
He picks-up on something being wrong. So I explain it to him. He tells me that I just have to keep an eye out for him, always be on my guard. He also says that I'm eighteen now and don't have to do anything I don't want. And that I'm right; sometimes being family just isn't enough.
During this time, Mom starts coming out with food. She asks who I am talking to, I say Dad. He asks if I've talked to her about this and I say 'no'. Mom comes around and asks if anything is wrong. I say I'm fine, but she moves and sees me crying and asks in the serious "I want to know" tone.
She goes to get another load of food. Dad says to talk to her about it. She wouldn't have asked like that if she didn't care. I say I'll try and he tells me to call him back with the results.
When mom comes back out she asks if Maria's mother is alright, if something happened to her. This explains the concern she had earlier. Especially since when I tell her the problem is Terry and that I really don't want to be around him at all and that he's creepy and inappropriate and awful she changes her tune and goes into 'Kyndra, I don't see why you can't get along with the family' mode.
She tells me that I knew he was going to be here, and that if I didn't want to come I didn't have to. (I didn't know for sure we were going to the Baptist's for dinner until last night. What was I supposed to do? Come here for Thanksgiving then not go to Thanksgiving?) I just need to put up with him and stay away from him. I told her that I had, that he had snuck up behind me. She told me that you can't help him doing that, there's nothing you can do about it. She doesn't know exactly what happened between the two of us last time we saw each other, but whatever it was, I would just have to deal with it.
I told her that I just didn't want her and grandma making me feel bad for not putting up with something that in any other situation they would find unacceptable. That I should be free to fully ignore him if placed near him, and to not put up with him. That, it was like this summer, when he'd grab my leg and her and his wife and other people would laugh at me like I was just being awkward.
She apologized to be for 'not being a perfect mother' for me. But it was getting to the point where I was forcing her to choose sides, and the only way to solve this was for me 'not to come home anymore' because he's always going to be there. She can't help him showing up to grandma's house. Unless she got her own place, and that isn't going to happen anytime soon.
Then she asked if I could manage to clean myself up to go back inside, say goodbye and thank you for dinner, and then we could go home.
And that was the end of it. I tried and I lost. Lost hard.
I love my mom, but I hate that she follows her side of the family's bullshit. Fine. I get it. Sometimes you can forgive people for things if they are family. But she and everyone else needs to see that sometimes being family makes something worse. They need to learn that sometimes it's just too much to hold in all that frustration and discomfort and you just need to tell someone to fuck off and die because if you don't get along with that person, the problem is not going to go away by sitting there with them and hoping for civility. It onyl goes away by cutting them out of your life.
It could be worse, I know it could. My uncle could be fully molesting me instead of just invading my space and touching me in really creepy ways that make me uncomfortable. But at the rate things are going, I'm not even sure that that would get them on my side.
God, I just want to go back to school now. Fuck family time. Fuck this part of Montana. Fuck going shopping tomorrow for all the good deals. Fuck coming back here for anymore holidays. Maybe I just won't come back here anymore. What's the point when I'm only made to feel bad for being honest?
I just want to go back to school and work and friends. I don't want to deal with this shit for the rest of the weekend.
Yesterday was great. the pick-up and drive. The getting here. The issue was that dinner had to be shared with Mellow Aunt and...him.
I got through it. He said hello, I said hello (in a crisp, not even pretending to be alright to see him way. And this was after mother elbowed me). He asked if college was making me any smarter, I said yes. Then, for the rest of dinner, we sat at our respective ends of the table and didn't say anything. I liked it that way. I'm surprised he even said anything past hello, seeing as the last thing he said to me was that I would drop out of college because I'm so weak and childish.
Then today was Thanksgiving. And I slept in and enjoyed a hot shower. Then I got all spriced up fort dinner because a) it is a holiday/special occasion and b) whenever we go somewhere that involves the Baptists, I like to look my best. It's just...yeah.
I greeted people. I was social. I stayed out of the way of food preparation.
And then they showed up. And I said hello to her, because I like her and find her to be very nice. He didn't say hello to me and I didn't even look at him and I thought 'Hooray! He finally gets it!'.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. A few minutes before dinner (we had dinner at one in the afternoon) I'm sitting on one of the stools that sits between the kitchen and dining area. I'm minding my own business and have (stupidly) let my guard down. That's when I hear 'Hello, Kyndra' in my ear and turn to see him not a full foot away from me or my face.
I turn back forward and try to ignore him. He says hello again, so I turn and give him a 'I don't want to speak to you. Go away' look and then turn forward again.
So the bastard proceed to place his hand atop my head and begin stroking my hair.
I jerk away, give him another look, and see he isn't going to leave. So I leave. I hop right up and make my way to another part of the house so that I can breathe and collect myself before it's time to go to the table.
We're at opposite sides, just as my mother assured me we would be if we ended up at the Baptist's for Thanksgiving. Everything is hunky-dory until we have to do a 'What are you thankful for?' thing between dinner and dessert.
What the hell do I say?
I'm thankful that I didn't have a total breakdown at college? That I'm getting laid regularly now and it is awesome? That Fern is such an awesome new friend she trumps that awesome sex? That I don't have to come back here for winter break? That the bastard is at the other end of the table? That I managed not to grab something and bludgeon him when he touched me? Do I say that I'm thankful for my new friends at college? That dogs are fuzzy and a good thing to think about in your downtime? For Doctor Who and Torchwood? For David Ten-Inch and the brilliantly hilarious faces he makes?
I couldn't share any of the things I was really thankful for. Everyone else had or was going to say family, and I only thought of saying that because it seemed the thing to do. (And does that make me a horrible person?) I couldn't be snarky or un-pc or blasphemous. Not that anyone would have appreciated snark, seeing as a good portion of dinner conversation was centered around cow shit. (Classy, I know.)
"Uh...I'm thankful that my first job is awesome and not terrible."
The three after me were Baptist grandchildren. All of them talked about how happy they were to be with their family and to have God seeing them through 'the problems the family is facing' right now with the economy (oh, can you not fly the jet now? Or drive the SUV? Can you not buy a new horse? Sorry, but I have issues feeling sorry for rich people when they complain about money problems. Even if they are as nice as these ones).
Then grandma, who mentioned family and all that. Then Mrs. Baptist, who gave a GIANT speech about how happy she was that my grandmother was bringing two grandhcildren to chruch now, and how she had gotten Lyle and Bernadette to go, and Terry and Dee. Mrs. Baptist just went on and on about how, if Grandma had never started going to church, then the Lord 'could not have used her' to get other people interested. And then she went on about how god gave so much, and if it was in his will to make economic times hard, then surely he would see them through it. And at least the family was becoming closer because of it. And thank the lord for this and that and his almighty grace and may he 'continue to use her'. (She used the term 'use' too. Because getting used by another human is a terrible thing, but being used by god is just divine.) She cut herself off after a few minutes of this and another mention of family and not wanting to take things for granted.
By now I am thoroughly uncomfortable and feeling like a heathen. Yay.
Mr. Baptist also mentioned God and family and money woes.
Then it was he-I-wish-to-kill. He mentioned how thankful he was to be alive. In the eighties he shot himself in the chest and didn't die (proof that god is merciful to those too stupid to help themselves). Then he mentioned the family and the extended family, blah, blah, blah.
His wife had a similiar thing. As did Lyle and Bernadette. Except Bernadette mentioned that she was thankful to the Baptists for all the great things her and Lyle have because of them. Finally! Something secular that isn't family!
Last two of the Baptist brood. A son-in-Law and a grandson. Family and god and his will leading them to better things. Honestly, people, come up with something original.
Then pie. After dishes and cleaning and lots of waiting. I'm also containing the anger I feel inside, because I've already been given a harsh 'stop it' for not accepting the love of my uncle.
Pie time. I am forced to serve my uncle a piece, even after I flat out say "No I won't". More scolding looks.
I eat, I go to the car and start making phone calls. Maybe if I let some of the upsetness out I won't start crying. Oh! Didn't work. Too bad.
Wemmick is voicemail. I don't want to mess with Twinkie when she's at the parent's house. Lisa tells me to take a bubble bath when I get home. Or to just take all of the hot water.
Then I call dad. I've spoken to him today (he calls every Thanksgiving to send good wishes) once already, but I just need a good talk and to stay out in the car more.
He picks-up on something being wrong. So I explain it to him. He tells me that I just have to keep an eye out for him, always be on my guard. He also says that I'm eighteen now and don't have to do anything I don't want. And that I'm right; sometimes being family just isn't enough.
During this time, Mom starts coming out with food. She asks who I am talking to, I say Dad. He asks if I've talked to her about this and I say 'no'. Mom comes around and asks if anything is wrong. I say I'm fine, but she moves and sees me crying and asks in the serious "I want to know" tone.
She goes to get another load of food. Dad says to talk to her about it. She wouldn't have asked like that if she didn't care. I say I'll try and he tells me to call him back with the results.
When mom comes back out she asks if Maria's mother is alright, if something happened to her. This explains the concern she had earlier. Especially since when I tell her the problem is Terry and that I really don't want to be around him at all and that he's creepy and inappropriate and awful she changes her tune and goes into 'Kyndra, I don't see why you can't get along with the family' mode.
She tells me that I knew he was going to be here, and that if I didn't want to come I didn't have to. (I didn't know for sure we were going to the Baptist's for dinner until last night. What was I supposed to do? Come here for Thanksgiving then not go to Thanksgiving?) I just need to put up with him and stay away from him. I told her that I had, that he had snuck up behind me. She told me that you can't help him doing that, there's nothing you can do about it. She doesn't know exactly what happened between the two of us last time we saw each other, but whatever it was, I would just have to deal with it.
I told her that I just didn't want her and grandma making me feel bad for not putting up with something that in any other situation they would find unacceptable. That I should be free to fully ignore him if placed near him, and to not put up with him. That, it was like this summer, when he'd grab my leg and her and his wife and other people would laugh at me like I was just being awkward.
She apologized to be for 'not being a perfect mother' for me. But it was getting to the point where I was forcing her to choose sides, and the only way to solve this was for me 'not to come home anymore' because he's always going to be there. She can't help him showing up to grandma's house. Unless she got her own place, and that isn't going to happen anytime soon.
Then she asked if I could manage to clean myself up to go back inside, say goodbye and thank you for dinner, and then we could go home.
And that was the end of it. I tried and I lost. Lost hard.
I love my mom, but I hate that she follows her side of the family's bullshit. Fine. I get it. Sometimes you can forgive people for things if they are family. But she and everyone else needs to see that sometimes being family makes something worse. They need to learn that sometimes it's just too much to hold in all that frustration and discomfort and you just need to tell someone to fuck off and die because if you don't get along with that person, the problem is not going to go away by sitting there with them and hoping for civility. It onyl goes away by cutting them out of your life.
It could be worse, I know it could. My uncle could be fully molesting me instead of just invading my space and touching me in really creepy ways that make me uncomfortable. But at the rate things are going, I'm not even sure that that would get them on my side.
God, I just want to go back to school now. Fuck family time. Fuck this part of Montana. Fuck going shopping tomorrow for all the good deals. Fuck coming back here for anymore holidays. Maybe I just won't come back here anymore. What's the point when I'm only made to feel bad for being honest?
I just want to go back to school and work and friends. I don't want to deal with this shit for the rest of the weekend.