AW: Morning Pages no. 74

I intended to type this up yesterday. I had the post queued up with some random text in here to serve as a place holder for content. Then my brain went 'NOPE, NOT TODAY!' and I found myself struggling with random bouts of anxiety over pretty much everything. I have c-ptsd and it sucks. I have mainly been dealing with emotional flashbacks over the last three weeks. They're debilitating because I just sit and stare caught somewhere between the urge to scream in agony and break down sobbing for reasons I can't put into words. My executive function gets over ridden by these emotional flashbacks and I am just trapped in one spot with this shuddering terror that I have utterly lost my mind. Then it passes and I'm exhausted and ready to cry because I'm filled with a deep hurt in my heart and mind.

Then there's the flashbacks where I'm not here anymore when it happens. I am back in my childhood cowering in fear of being beaten for missing a spot in the cleaning of a room or desperately hiding from a raging parent who is looking for someone to vent their spleen upon. I could give more details but it is enough to say that my siblings and I had a rough childhood. Normally, I wouldn't be putting this stuff out here like this. I'd keep it in a notebook where the parental units would be unable to find it. I, however, am too tired of keeping secrets and ignoring where the bodies are buried. I'm not mentioning who by name because I am to tired to deal with them randomly searching up this post when they do their weekly paranoid search of the internet to see who is talking about them.

I cut myself off from 90% of my side of the family when it became clear after my paternal grandparents died that the rest just didn't care. It's been a pandemic and the people who raised me with the attitude that 'family sticks together' never once called. Well, that's not entirely accurate. Mom called to try to manipulate me into bringing my family out to the farm after Dad had a mini-stroke. I didn't take the call, so she called my husband's number. He calmly asked what help she needed from us. Got the answer that our help wasn't needed. And that was the end of the discussion. 

The last time I spoke to Mom face to face, she tried to evoke a panic attack by mentioning how 'anxious' I got about an abusive ex and how she felt I needed to get over it. There was no context to this statement, it was made to provoke a reaction out of me, preferably one of distress that she could twist to her advantage. Well, she did get a reaction, I gathered up the kids (who were still small at the time) and I left. They have a history of violence toward kids to force them to submit to their will. They have a history of psychological violence towards people to force them to submit to their will. They'll humiliate and belittle you to make themselves feel better.

These are the people who called me a failed investment because my degree didn't equate to a nice, cushy job right out the gate. These are the same people who threw me out of the house when I lost my job due to chronic, severe illness. (Thankfully, my grandparents put me up in a place they owned elsewhere. It was a hard year getting that health problem sorted out, working for less than minimum wage, and trying to survive with a severely limited support network even as I was planning my wedding. That was a fiasco too because of my drama whore of a mother.)

I decided that the next time I see my parents is going to be when they're dead. And then it's going to check and make sure that they are dead in that pine box. Some may say, 'Hey, isn't that cruel? You're breaking their hearts. You're punishing the rest of the family by not going around on the holidays.' My answer is simple. I don't go where I'm not wanted. My grandparents made clear they wanted me around and that they were happy that I and my husband were part of the family. We visited on a regular basis and they were thrilled to interact with their great-grandchildren.

My parents and most of my other relatives don't give a damn. When they see me I hear nothing but criticism or platitudes that are supposed to soften me up for the criticism. Since Covid-19 arrived on the scene, there's been nothing but silence from them. The phone works two ways. I refuse to be the 'guilty' party when if they wanted to contact me they could do it at any time. I don't want to deal with their two-faced crap. There are some belongings of mine that are at the farm basically held hostage. If I am going to get them, I have to go and 'talk' to my parents and brothers. I have to go with my hat in hand and beg to get my belongings back. For all I care, they can burn them to the ground. It's only stuff. 

I've got my family. I've got a healthy life and I refuse to put myself or my family in the crosshairs of their bullshit for them to play stupid power games and hurt people to make themselves feel better about their pathetic lives.

But, that's rambling about me and the emotional garbage I'm dealing with right now. My psychological challenges have been acting up making it hard to post pretty much anything because I've got that woman's bitter 'no one is going to want to read this trash, write what I tell you to.' stuck in my head.