I am trying to figure out if writing here is something that will be helpful. To raise this thing from the dead and put my thoughts on the internet as if anyone gives a shit seems a little narcissistic. I do not think that is who I am, speaking in present tense, though I cannot say that was the case at other points in my life.

I did figure out he name of my life’s story recently while I was reflecting on my relationship with my family. My immediate family (those by blood: mother, father, sister) is a tragic shit show. It is amazing how much I got wrong and how much of a disaster it evolved to in the long run. Under the category #familydrama I detailed some recent misadventures specifically with my sister and mother.

Family Shot: Me, Dad, and Uncle on my moms side
Family Shot: Me, Dad, and Uncle on my moms side

The thing is, that I have for a long time put much of my family issues on my dad, and it is only within the last year where I started to see how wrong I was. He has with absolute certainty earned a place in the shitty-dad hall of fame, but it turns out there were more players in the game than I thought.

The fact that my family life is so screwed up had a lot of factors that came from all directions. I was a queer kid and I was an out and proud queer kid growing up. I was more out than I remember, because apparently I was making proclamations when I was merely 13 as to being gay.

My parents were not prepared to deal with a queer kid. The world was not ready. I mean, we are light-years from those days now and I see parents bringing their queer-kids in the store I work at all the time and I am amazed at how much the world has changed. (Granted, I am talking about the Castro in San Francisco of all freaking places)

It is impacting me a lot. I had to step away from my mom because it was becoming too heavy for my shoulders. My sister has stepped in. It was to my invitation and went very wrong in the end, but I was more shoved out of the way then let drift out of their lane.

At some point there is a need to self preserve and get into a safe place, but it is also isolating. My Uncle Dave, Aunt Chris and Aunt Nancy and I have not talked since I was pushed out of the way. I worry heavily that they think I abandoned her, but I did not.

My mom and I may not ever have been very close. She kicked me out of her house for being an asshole kid (oh, I was!) and sent me to live with my dad who was never home. And when he was, I wanted nothing to do with him.

But, the thing is, my memory is really bad. The story that was written was skewed by time and the fact I can remember so little about my own freaking life. I remember a lot of trauma and exposure to things a kid should never have had to navigate.

The regrets and sadness I still carry are all monkeys on my back to this day. Not the hours of therapy that I went through, not one, has made it easier.

And today. When I think of those three family members (dad, mom and sister), I have so completely lost that connection that I miss it. I have learned a valuable lesson. That the hope it will all change is pure delusion.

When I think if family on the next level, I cannot help but think about how much some of my step-sibs have been there being supportive and positive through the hardest times with my mom and their dad. There was have been a lot of screwed us situations, but they have tried to do better even though there were times when mistakes were made.

People’s true colors were seen. I took care of their dad’s funeral arrangements, obit and his final tasks as best I could with my mom and because of her they got nothing of him. Not a single fiber of his legacy.

Bob, my step-dad, was a challenging soul. I mean, he was… a good fit for my mom. And you see it in the end.

And it stings to look back and wonder how things could have been different. If you are looking backward you are not looking to the path ahead. Staying in the present is the key, right?

I am deeply unsettled and deeply injured by the way this road has gone. One time I went to a workshop called “Faggots and Their Fathers” and all I remember is sobbing my head off through it. I mean, gross-face snot sobs. And I am still damaged from it all.

See also:
– #Things that haunt me

Posted in Family Drama.

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