Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Zero to Forgiveness

A quarter century ago, I was born under the wing of my mom and dad and was setup to navigate life’s mazes on my own.

Sometimes I wonder what the “ideal parental unit relationship” is supposed to look like. I sometimes say “I wish things could have been different”, but I’d rather try to find the positive in something, even if it seems like there isn’t anything bright to say. It could be worse. We had no problems getting food on the table and had shelter.

I see all of these people having close relationships with their mom and part of me wishes I could have one, but need to accept it not being in the cards for me. In a mother-themed story, one would expect me to discuss the positive experiences I’ve had; though there isn’t anything noteworthy, I am thankful to have been afforded the opportunity to try several different activities and sports. I wrote a poem recently about “surviving an episode of the mother’s day show”, which consisted of lyrically explaining how anxious I become prior to mandated interactions with my mom.

According to statistics you see in psychology textbooks, having a negative relationship with parental units constitutes adverse effects in being able to create and maintain relationships with others. The relationship with both of my parents was overall pretty poor throughout my entire life, but it is more in “no bueno land” with my mom. It is also mentioned how poor familial relationships elicit an increased likelihood for adulthood mental illness.

A certain situation often overlooked is family bullying. In being an identical twin, being born a minute after my sister meant everything. I was looked at as the youngest, smallest, and weakest, therefore most vulnerable. With being the subject of all of the ridicule displayed among the family, it caused a plethora of problems. One verbal attack after another, I’d sit there and take them like nothing is bothering me. My anger-o-meter would escalate from green, yellow, orange, and red, until I reached “super saiyan levels”. I eventually would become so tired of getting hurt to a point where I would become rage angry and want to terrorize the town and crush buildings. This led to me not only struggling to create relationships with other women while joining a sorority in college in effort to combat my poor parental unit dynamics, but it also caused me to be unable to properly communicate my upset feelings and struggle with being assertive in the professional world. It also drove me to being so depressed and anxious to a point where a friend noticed a difference in my behavior and suggested I attend therapy (and I did). One of my friends I live with explained to me what a healthy relationship should look like; while I don’t want to envy him, negative life situations make you stronger.

I wish I was able to get my entire college paid for me like a lot of my surrounding friends. I wish I was able to go on more family vacations. I wish I didn’t have to spend my childhood getting yelled at and nitpicked for not meeting your unattainable standards not in my direction. I still try to search for what love means. Since verbal abuse was a norm in my life, getting verbally abused by boyfriends became a thing too. Every time I think I’d want to “try again”, something would happen to make me feel unsafe. By the end of college, I no longer wanted to associate myself with my past and refused to take family graduation pictures. I wish I wasn’t so sheltered as a child to a point where most of my life skills were acquired after moving out and needing to teach myself. Being hand-held my entire life led me to struggle to trust myself, as well as make me so clueless about money to a point where I ended up listening to my abusive ex boyfriend who coerced me into making extremely poor decisions. I can’t dwell on the past though. It’s time to move on! I wish my mom would be able to move on from her past too, which hindered her to be able to properly express love. It’s why I haven’t been able to say the magic 3 words in at least 10 years.

As an overall positive person, I like to act like a house flipper in terms of dealing with negative circumstances. I could rant and rave all day about my difficult childhood or choose to think about the strong woman I am becoming for overcoming the rugged flaming pathways.

I hear about all of these stories about kids failing out of college, getting arrested for whatever reason, or turning into “festie burnouts”, meaning those who attend festivals to escape reality. I may now have to suffer through the massive self-esteem issues, but I have a lot more to be thankful about than I think.

I am thankful to have been able to realize I was mentally troubled and decided to seek recovery. All of my past trauma has inspired me to want to constantly better myself every day and find my strongest self. I am thankful I didn’t have to get sent to some lame daycare and my mom worked from home while we were very young. I am thankful to be in good health and rarely get sick. I am thankful to have been able to attend a super prestigious high school that shoved the “hard work pays off” motto in your face and even had a fencing team, which I was on all 4 years. I am thankful I am thankful to be able to attend a major university and earn a college degree and the opportunity to have worked for one of the top international banks. A lot of people I know and see seem to accept mediocrity and comfort while finding themselves through romantic relationships. I am lucky to strive for independence and find my own stability to make the system work by for me by taking risks instead of joining the corporate zombies. Most of all, I am thankful to be a self-motivated person who is able to turn the poor treatment in my past into wanting to inspire others to bring out their best selves, help others, and make a difference. The list continues.

As I grow older, I am becoming aware how I can no longer remain bitter of my past; I need to let go of bitterness in order to find forgiveness. Whatever happened x number of years ago is gone and I need to take the backpack off and leave it behind. I need to keep telling myself these experiences were just meant to make me stronger and possess more mental endurance. Plus, I’m not perfect and apologize for my shitty past behavior. I can only forgive so much, but I can never forget. I’m just thankful to be alive!

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