So this is where I had left off.
Now I am unsure if I got less freakouts because I was unhealthy, the baby or I just did nothing wrong. HA HA HA.. nothing wrong, oh me.. that makes me laugh. I am sure it had a lot to do with the fact that I was the youngest. I do not believe much was expected out of me. And we had stuff, underlying stuff. I may not have understood it all though I could feel it.
While growing up there was never a thought about my sisters being my sisters, they just were it was simple. This is where some of the underlying stuff and the feel of things come in. I was different than my sisters, I didn’t look like them, I didn’t get treated like them but they were my sisters, I could tell they loved me for the most part. Patti protecting me and taking care of me. Helping me with things that my mom was not capable of doing. And sometimes getting torn apart for it later š Suzi loved me but pretty much felt i was annoying .. lol imagine that thinking I am annoying. I am sure I was. Like most younger siblings I wanted to hang out with her, be around..I was three years younger so you can imagine what a kill joy I must have been. yet when I got caught up in the tree with the swing rope around my neck she didn’t hesitate to rescue me and get help. When we would jump out of the bedroom window and the neighbor told on us, she took the brunt of it. She didn’t get as much demands placed on her as my older sister did and I can’t tell you why, I have my thoughts about the whys and maybe I will share them later. And though we were sisters there was something different about us. Patti and Suzi looked so much alike. My mom treated them differently than me and at times differently than each other. It was like I was a part of the group but not really. It was like they were a circle and I was standing on the outside.
It wasn’t till I was older that I realized that we had different biological dads. Not that it mattered to me, they were my sisters always and forever. Half wasn’t what we used or referred to . We were siblings end of story. Well until you get older and resentment and issues come about and sometimes I would hear the half word, it would crush my heart a little however I would never show it.
Now I am not sure if i am painting a picture very well here. So I will try my best to do so. Patti being the oldest had all the responsibilities. She got all the demands, all the punishment all of the crazy that my mother would unleash while she was walking around wounded and full of rage. I know with having my own children now that first children have a tough go. They are the first, everything is new so everything is more challenging. You do your best to protect, your more paranode, more over the top like your trying to keep them contained to some bubble that will protect them from everything and everyone, except yourself of course. though most of the time we can be very unaware of our own messed up ness until much later after the damage is done. So I have said it before and I will say it again my sister had a hard gig. She had so many responsibilities for such a young girl. So many demands all while trying to be perfect, to keep the peace, to do her best ultimately never hitting the mark, not within the walls in which we lived. Suzi she had a bit better of a gig, though not much. She was the second child and with that came a bit less of the demands. The bubble of protection becomes less. Things become a bit more acceptable mostly because the first child has taken the brunt of the child growing pains with all the first. So no matter what, if we got in trouble together Patti would get the majority of it, because she was the oldest and she ought to know better, Suzi would then get it though not as bad, I might get it…it would totally depend on the mood that day. Basically there was no bubble when it got to the baby
now this is where the crazy of dysfunctions starts within the family. Patti and Suzi had more chores, they got talked to more, they had more demands on them and I was just there. I can not tell you how they felt, I could speculate, however I can tell you what I felt….invisible. I believed that my mom loved Patti and Suzi and didn’t love me. I would be wounded at dinner every night that my mom would place and P and S on the table but never an L. we chuckle at it, that I thought the P and S stood for Patti and Suzi when in reality it stood for pepper and salt. As a wee child it was not funny and it took a lot of courage for me to finally ask why she never put me on the table, why did she never put an L. I was so young, I had no idea that it was salt and pepper all I knew was that my heart hurt and I couldn’t understand why my mom didn’t love me like she did my sisters. I look back and realize that in my mind as a child, even though she was freaking out, being harsh it was a form of care, affection, attention. it equaled love … imagine that … now that is some serious dysfunction starting right there.
I think about how I felt the lack of love, invisible and uncared for. Then I think of my sisters and now being older with some growth under my belt, my heart hurts for them. Can you imagine, the rage, the anger, the demands mostly because of your pecking order. How hard it must have been for them, how unloved, not good enough they must have felt. The resentment that must have built from the demands to lack of demands placed upon each of us. The thing I find so interesting in it all is that the message we all felt was the same for different reasons. My not good enough was because of the lack of acknowledgement or involvement, and they got there’s from demands and expectations they could never fulfill.
I remember one time when my dad and I lived in Qualicum and Patti was a bit irritated with me, told me I would never be aloud to do that and how I got away with so much. Having no filter has always been me so I told her how it was..basically she just smoothed that path for me. by the time I came along it was a mah let her eat the dirt, who cares if she wears jeans, what don’t kill her will make her stronger. And as much as she hated that it was harder for her, I do not think she ever saw the other end. Where i was forgotten, too much work, too much effort, too much energy that mom didn’t have time for. I carried it off, however, I was just as broken as everyone else.
I realize I have not painted a very loving picture of my mom. I am not going to lie, the lady was crazy when we were growing up. She was wounded and dealing or not dealing with her own childhood family dysfunctions. Some so painful that she hid them away till the rage and anger was too much for her, herself to deal with. At some point and I can not tell you when she started to do some serious work and heal some deep deep wounds. Those are not my stories to tell they are hers. She started in a twelve step program oh my gosh at least 45 or more years ago. she has learned lots and shared in her growth. I do not want to take away from the amount of work my mom has done, and she has done a lot, however, I do believe she would be ok with me talking about our childhood and her behavior back then because its all part of the dysfunction, mental heath and addiction that runs ramped within our family. I mean lets me honest a lot of how we behave is learned behavior and we do not change it until we realize it is not serving us and sometimes that takes a long time.
I am going to sign off i need some sleep. I will share more tomorrow.