27 December 2010

Family and the Mentally Ill and Abused.

"I sense a little dysfunction in your family." - Some person with a doctorate.

Well no shit Sherlock. "A little" is quite the understatement. It's like saying the Great Wall of China is just a little wall, or Canterbury Cathedral is a little building, or the Louvre has a little bit of art in it... or Chateau d'If was just a little hard on its prisoners.

I woke up on Christmas morning in a somewhat decent mood... then I was stupid enough to venture the mile to my Grandma's house for free food that I didn't have to cook. Looking back, I should have stayed home and ate another peanut butter and jelly sandwich as I left frustrated and pissed.

Every year I'm stupid enough to have this weird delusion that these people will accept me for who I am... and not play the piss on Boudicca just because we can game they like to play.

Luckily it's scaled back nowadays, but I honestly think that's because I'm big enough to do serious physical damage now. I guess jacking with a 4 year old until she's forced into violence to get people to leave her alone is easier, and thus more fun, than jacking with a full grown, unwavering, pissed off lunatic. Probably a smart move on their part. One of the few smart moves they make when I'm involved.

Ok, maybe me wearing this shirt to a family function of a dysfunctional baptist family was not a good way to start the dinner, but whatever. (P.S. If you're into death metal, and you get a chance to see these guys, DO IT)

I'm the pierced/tatted/black sheep anyway, might as well wear what I want. Most of them didn't get it anyway... they probably had to go Google Misery Index to figure out who they are and what they do. Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't get it for not bowing my head and following the abusive Mormon's prayers.

The mortal enemies made it a point to get their digs in on me. My cursing. Going to school instead of working (why exactly can't you work 20-40 hours a week and handle 12-18 credit hours of upper level English and History classes with professors that expect gold?). Getting over Mom's death. My adherence to the evolution rather than creationism. That's the most fun one though.

Naturally after I'd had about enough of it, I started stabbing back. It's just my way. A captain I once worked with made a very astute observation about me (to me): When you're backed in a corner you come out swinging. Yeah, that pretty well fits the bill.

I found myself sitting there, listening to conversations go on (ignorant fucks), talking to my aunt and a cousin - both of whom I adore, and thinking to myself. Apparently it is a very, very bad idea to say something along the lines of "Mom fucked the mailman to create me, didn't she?"

Naturally, that was actually heard, and they were a bit pissed. I had finally gotten a bit tired of having my intelligence, libertarian tendencies and intellectual curiosity doubted and stabbed. Really, it is not my fault that I like to figure shit out, or ruminate upon the world, and heaven forbid I have the ability to change my mind if something makes more logical sense.

Then again, we are talking about a family that still uses 'coon' and 'colored,' thinks equal rights is not cool ("women have rights?"), believes in the southern style of Baptist, and cannot get their heads wrapped around anything to do with psychology (I have that argument quite often). Oh, Obama's a Muslim too.

Their response to me (and a cousin who is paranoid schizophrenic) is for the most part one of no compassion, no understanding, and no desire to understand. Although, because he has a penis he ranks a bit higher than me. I think my favorite quotes are: "You don't want to be normal," "Do you really need these meds?" and "What would a psychiatrist do except cost money?"

The schizophrenic (who is actually one of the few family members I like) gets pity from the family though. I'm also the scary one that might get to cleaning some of these skeletons out of the closet (well, they are piling up a bit damn it, where else am I supposed to hide the fresh bodies until it thaws out?).

The look on everyone's face when I said something to the effect of I should have been in an asylum and I was fully suicidal not long ago (I think we were discussing the hospice company's bereavement group) was priceless. Only one person didn't miss a beat and actually comprehended what I said... the actual depth of it. And was one of maybe 2 people that gave a shit.

Oh, let's not forget the response to sexual abuse. Actually, they take four routes.

1) The victim is obviously lying because the scumbag wouldn't ever hurt a child. He's so wonderful to his children and wife. And he's a pillar of the community (and possibly the school janitor or your son?)

- or -

2) Wellllll maybe it happened... (cause there are assholes like me that like to correct other assholes who try to put these pedophiliac assholes on a golden pedestal)... but that was a long time ago, and he's a different person now. I'm sure it was partially your fault too. (ORLY!?!)


3) *buries head in sand*

- or -

4) any combination of the above.

And they wonder why I didn't have the balls to come forward when it happened, and why I'm an asshole about it now? And why I question my actual blood ties to these people. Or why I believe water is thicker than blood.

TLDR: If your family ain't got your back, don't rely on them. It's their loss, and they're showing their stripes.
If you're a family member, don't be a douche.


  1. And now you know why I don't have a problem living 300 miles from my family. Going home for the holidays is very TRYING.

    For you, I can't imagine what your heart was feeling while you were there. I always make a reminder to "self" your family doesn't have to be the bloodline you were born into. Sometimes your friends become more of a family than your blood relatives could ever be.

  2. Rage and just so dumbfounded all I could think of was *doublefacepalm headdesk*