Flyby Stardancer (
flybystardancer) wrote2011-12-17 07:56 pm
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I can't deal and sometimes I hate myself....
I can't deal with my life, and I hate myself because I can't seem to force myself to change what needs to be changed to make things better.
What set me off on my current downward spiral was reading this article, and it reminded me of my life growing up. My family was the now very stereotypical of the both-parents-working household, where the wife came home from her full-time job to do everything while did husband did basically nothing.
Which led to the next thought. Dad wants to rent out the house I'm currently living in, because neither of us works full-time and so we don't have the money to pay for both houses as-is. That would also mean me moving back in with him.
I can't move back in with him. We're too much alike, can't help but start fighting with one another, and neither of us can back down. We've been getting along a LOT better since we've been living in different houses. Plus, Dad does not know how to take care of himself. His mother did everything for him, unconsciously teaching him he didn't need to do things like cooking and housework. She would even fold his clothes in packets of shirt, underwear, and socks. He went from parents' house, military barracks, parents' house, first wife, parents' house, second wife (my mom). And like I said earlier, he did not do much around the house. Mom said he started doing better after she got sick while I was at school and she couldn't do the housework. However, whenever I was home, he wasn't good about it at all, expecting me to do everything around the house.
Even though he wasn't working (thanks to the housing bust and subsequent economic recession), and om was still working full-time despite battling cancer.
Serious, I would try to do at least one chore every weekday I was home (and would set at least two for myself to do). He would do dishes, or put a load of laundry in the wash, maybe once a week. The rest of the time he would sit around on the computer, often spending money on his hobbies. And the load of laundry? That would go in late in the day, so that Mom could do most of the folding.
This has not changed. I know that if I move back in, I'll basically be his unwilling servant again. If I try to make him do stuff for himself (like make his own *$*(&$&() lunches for work), either he'll go on a tirade about me not doing stuff to help out. Nevermind how extremely hypocritical such tirades are and when I point that out, things explode.
I already feel guilty as heck living separately from him. I know he's not taking care of himself, and that if he eats at all it's something like cereal or raisin snails, and that he's not really getting out of the house. There's a small part of me that feels a bit like I should be making sure he's eating and getting out because he's no dad and I know how bad he is.
But there's a larger part of me that almost panics at the thought of moving back in with him. I feel like if I move back in with him, I'll be under his thumb for the rest of his life. And both of his parents lived a long time. He's also started nagging on me about my health and drinking habits. Considering that requires a ton of tact in the best of times, and he has none... And it's not like he would do anything to HELP. If I were hiving with him, I'd be having to cook dinner for both of us that would inevitably be something unhealthy because that's what he would eat. (Seriously, he only likes beef, and don't even think about suggesting a vegetarian meal.) Yes, I lost a lot of weight once, but that was Mom and I working to keep each others' food choices in check and getting up at a time in the morning we couldn't sustain to do exercises we hated. And Dad Did Not Like the food we were eating then.
Sometime while I was at university, something in me broke. I lost my will power and motivation.
In high school, I could force myself to leave that snack alone even though I felt hungry. I could force myself to get up at 5 AM to exercise, even though I hated both the hour and activity. I've always been a night owl and do HORRIBLE in mornings. In high school, I had a tiny bit of self-worth that came from my academic achievements. I may have felt ugly and been below the lowest rung of the social ladder, but dang it I was taking as many classes as I could, most of them advanced level, and getting As and Bs all without having to try hard. And I even started to feel better about my body when I lost all that weight. The senior picnic the last week of high school? I strutted around wearing a dress that none of them had ever seen me in. A tight fitting halter that I went braless in. And I felt like they had never seen me look so good, and would regret not noticing me before, even though no one paid attention or cared that day. I spent the day alone, and didn't care because I felt that good about myself for that one day. I was first chair upright bass player, and while I had never had any leads in theater, I had been in every production for three years, and was one of the few that could be relied upon to know their lines by the day we were supposed to be off-script. (Unlike some of the people who did get leads, and NEVER learned their lines.)
All that changed at university. I couldn't make friends. The classes were WAY harder than high school, and I didn't know how to study, or even that I was in way over my head. Mom got sick and I couldn't do anything but worry. I started gaining back the weight I had worked so hard to lose. Even when I realized I wasn't doing so well, I couldn't reach out for help.I absolutely sucked at playing bass, even compared to the other freshman player, and just Could Not catch up even with a private tutor.When I tried out for plays, I never even got a call-back, much less into a play. Even after taking an acting class and another theatre class. The subjects I had done best in in high school and that I loved the most, I was doing absolutely horrible in.
I became a failure.
I just barely managed to graduate. Even now I feel like I don't deserve the degree and my parents wasted their money on sending me there. Even though I know I need to get a full-time job, I don't feel like I can do it. How can I market myself to potential employers and convince them to hire me over the ten other candidates when I can't find anything worthwhile about myself? When ALL of my work experience has next-to-nothing to do with my degree and what general direction I want to look?
I've lost the ability to make myself do things I don't like doing. I feel like I was a horrible daughter to my mother. I feel like a useless waste of space and resources. I already don't do enough to help myself, but stress makes me shut down and do even less, which just piles on even more stress. And I am the Queen of putting roadblocks in my way. Someone gives me advice? I can find a reason it won't work in 2 seconds flat. And I expect the worst. And I oan't seem to stop this self-defeating thoughts or get rid of those hateful little voices in my head.
So all in all, that leaves me a useless failure of a human being that can't cope with life.
What set me off on my current downward spiral was reading this article, and it reminded me of my life growing up. My family was the now very stereotypical of the both-parents-working household, where the wife came home from her full-time job to do everything while did husband did basically nothing.
Which led to the next thought. Dad wants to rent out the house I'm currently living in, because neither of us works full-time and so we don't have the money to pay for both houses as-is. That would also mean me moving back in with him.
I can't move back in with him. We're too much alike, can't help but start fighting with one another, and neither of us can back down. We've been getting along a LOT better since we've been living in different houses. Plus, Dad does not know how to take care of himself. His mother did everything for him, unconsciously teaching him he didn't need to do things like cooking and housework. She would even fold his clothes in packets of shirt, underwear, and socks. He went from parents' house, military barracks, parents' house, first wife, parents' house, second wife (my mom). And like I said earlier, he did not do much around the house. Mom said he started doing better after she got sick while I was at school and she couldn't do the housework. However, whenever I was home, he wasn't good about it at all, expecting me to do everything around the house.
Even though he wasn't working (thanks to the housing bust and subsequent economic recession), and om was still working full-time despite battling cancer.
Serious, I would try to do at least one chore every weekday I was home (and would set at least two for myself to do). He would do dishes, or put a load of laundry in the wash, maybe once a week. The rest of the time he would sit around on the computer, often spending money on his hobbies. And the load of laundry? That would go in late in the day, so that Mom could do most of the folding.
This has not changed. I know that if I move back in, I'll basically be his unwilling servant again. If I try to make him do stuff for himself (like make his own *$*(&$&() lunches for work), either he'll go on a tirade about me not doing stuff to help out. Nevermind how extremely hypocritical such tirades are and when I point that out, things explode.
I already feel guilty as heck living separately from him. I know he's not taking care of himself, and that if he eats at all it's something like cereal or raisin snails, and that he's not really getting out of the house. There's a small part of me that feels a bit like I should be making sure he's eating and getting out because he's no dad and I know how bad he is.
But there's a larger part of me that almost panics at the thought of moving back in with him. I feel like if I move back in with him, I'll be under his thumb for the rest of his life. And both of his parents lived a long time. He's also started nagging on me about my health and drinking habits. Considering that requires a ton of tact in the best of times, and he has none... And it's not like he would do anything to HELP. If I were hiving with him, I'd be having to cook dinner for both of us that would inevitably be something unhealthy because that's what he would eat. (Seriously, he only likes beef, and don't even think about suggesting a vegetarian meal.) Yes, I lost a lot of weight once, but that was Mom and I working to keep each others' food choices in check and getting up at a time in the morning we couldn't sustain to do exercises we hated. And Dad Did Not Like the food we were eating then.
Sometime while I was at university, something in me broke. I lost my will power and motivation.
In high school, I could force myself to leave that snack alone even though I felt hungry. I could force myself to get up at 5 AM to exercise, even though I hated both the hour and activity. I've always been a night owl and do HORRIBLE in mornings. In high school, I had a tiny bit of self-worth that came from my academic achievements. I may have felt ugly and been below the lowest rung of the social ladder, but dang it I was taking as many classes as I could, most of them advanced level, and getting As and Bs all without having to try hard. And I even started to feel better about my body when I lost all that weight. The senior picnic the last week of high school? I strutted around wearing a dress that none of them had ever seen me in. A tight fitting halter that I went braless in. And I felt like they had never seen me look so good, and would regret not noticing me before, even though no one paid attention or cared that day. I spent the day alone, and didn't care because I felt that good about myself for that one day. I was first chair upright bass player, and while I had never had any leads in theater, I had been in every production for three years, and was one of the few that could be relied upon to know their lines by the day we were supposed to be off-script. (Unlike some of the people who did get leads, and NEVER learned their lines.)
All that changed at university. I couldn't make friends. The classes were WAY harder than high school, and I didn't know how to study, or even that I was in way over my head. Mom got sick and I couldn't do anything but worry. I started gaining back the weight I had worked so hard to lose. Even when I realized I wasn't doing so well, I couldn't reach out for help.I absolutely sucked at playing bass, even compared to the other freshman player, and just Could Not catch up even with a private tutor.When I tried out for plays, I never even got a call-back, much less into a play. Even after taking an acting class and another theatre class. The subjects I had done best in in high school and that I loved the most, I was doing absolutely horrible in.
I became a failure.
I just barely managed to graduate. Even now I feel like I don't deserve the degree and my parents wasted their money on sending me there. Even though I know I need to get a full-time job, I don't feel like I can do it. How can I market myself to potential employers and convince them to hire me over the ten other candidates when I can't find anything worthwhile about myself? When ALL of my work experience has next-to-nothing to do with my degree and what general direction I want to look?
I've lost the ability to make myself do things I don't like doing. I feel like I was a horrible daughter to my mother. I feel like a useless waste of space and resources. I already don't do enough to help myself, but stress makes me shut down and do even less, which just piles on even more stress. And I am the Queen of putting roadblocks in my way. Someone gives me advice? I can find a reason it won't work in 2 seconds flat. And I expect the worst. And I oan't seem to stop this self-defeating thoughts or get rid of those hateful little voices in my head.
So all in all, that leaves me a useless failure of a human being that can't cope with life.
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Okay, I'm going to be a little blunt, so please forgive me, and especially if what I'm saying is off.
First of all, you just lost your mom. You are going to go through depression. It is going to be really hard. Her illness compounded things for you - didn't you say she got cancer while you were in college? That has a huge impact on... everything.
You are not a failure. You are bright, talented, compassionate. But you have been going through the hell of having to care for an ill parent, of shouldering a burden no one at your age, or even my age, expects.
I think it would be very important to have someone to talk with, to go see a counselor, after what you have gone through.
I also have a strong feeling about you not needing to be responsible for your dad. Even if he doesn't know how to take care of himself, he is an adult. He needs to learn. The fact that he relied so much on your mom, even when she was sick? I would hate to see you enabling that to continue. If it feels like a trap to you, like being stuck, then it likely is. You deserve to be your own person. So much of your life has been wrapped up in your mom's illness, in caring for your family. I long to see you be a bit selfish right now, learn who you are, what you love.
You are not, in an way, a failure. I cannot imagine facing what you have faced with near the poise and strength you have shown.
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I probably should see a counselor... I did talk to one while I was at school, and then the hospice program had counselors talk to us... I have yet to meet one that has actually clicked and helped. And I am without insurance at the moment... I was on Mom's work insurance.
I know that I shouldn't and can't be responsible for my Dad. It's why I'm digging in and finding every excuse I can to not move back in with him (for once that normally self-defeating thing is actually helpful!). Getting a full time job and more money coming in would help with that.
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You're not your father's keeper. It's not your responsibility to take care of him. If he fails that badly at caring for himself, that's his own problem.
I know the feeling of being one's own roadblock, defeating yourself before you've even tried. I know that feeling well. I wish there was something I could do or say to help you, but I'm only starting to learn myself how to rise above that. :/ *offers more plushie hugs?*
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It's a really hard habit to kick, that's for sure.
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You are NOT a failure. You're a wonderful, intelligent, educated, creative woman! You are just going through a lot of things now, and have been for a long time. Losing a family member, perhaps especially when it's a long, drawn-out process that you can't do anything about, is painful and draining and depressing in so many ways. You're handling things with far better grace than I think I would be capable of in the same position.
That said, I think you're right in your instincts about not moving in with your dad. Don't. Find a cheapie apartment and split it with four roommates if you have to, but don't let yourself get turned into your father's (or anyone's!) housekeeper. He will never learn how to take care of himself, and it will not end. I loved my late grandfather dearly, but I also watched my grandmother take care of him his whole life until she died. And, much as I love my father, I dread and fear that he's going to do the same to my mother. I keep urging her that when she retires, she needs to get out of the house, take classes, find hobbies. Because she deserves better than being a domestic slave. And so do you.
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I do have some time before having to figure out where to go. We need to get this house fixed up and stuff(mostly his) cleared out first. I'm hoping that if I get a full-time job by then, I'll be able to contribute enough money towards payments/taxes/etc. that we wouldn't have to put this one up for rent. (And it would feel very weird to have to pay rent for an apartment when Dad owns two houses and is renting one out.) Plus, I'm not sure I could condense my stuff down to fit in an apartment, especially if I had to have roommates.
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Good luck; I hope you can find a counselor that clicks with you soon. It sounds like you need it.
In the meantime, perhaps journalling your thoughts? Either on private LJ entries or a physical journal? I find it helpful to write down how I'm feeling about situations, because it helps me think things through.
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I might need to try that. I have enough empty notebooks/journals around... I've always been horrible at keeping up with it, though.
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But once I got into the habit of being grateful, I no longer needed to write every day, so now it's random.
I'm also not the type that thinks journaling is something you must do on a daily basis, but I've found that if my mind is swimming with thoughts, putting them down on paper forces them to line up in an orderly manner so I can get them down, and it really helps me clear my thoughts and notice connections I wasn't able to notice in the clutter.
tl;dr whatever works for you is what you should do! *hugs*