Family - part 2

Logical to be called part 2...this is the first real follow up to Family - part 1. I'm not quite sure where it's going to go yet. Soon find out.

Ever felt like you're not living your life? Like somehow, you're in your body, going through the motions, but it's not you. Like you know you're having the thoughts and doing the actions, but you feel as though you're looking at yourself from another angle, separate from yourself. So how can you possibly be in that body, doing those things, thinking those thoughts, if you're watching yourself from a distance?

I felt like that this weekend. Really, I feel like that all the time, but I realised this morning when I woke up, that I had coasted through the weekend and I felt like someone else. It turned out a lot quieter weekend for us than we expected. Most of the outings we'd planned were cancelled or we just didn't go. We spent the bulk of the weekend looking for outdoor furniture, water features and ideas to do up C's back garden.

Yet, at 32, I don't feel grown up enough to be doing that, and I know it must sound odd. I look at C and think how responsible and mature he is, how sensible. I don't feel responsible or mature. I wonder what it'll take for me to feel that way. I wonder what I think I have to have that'll get me to the point where I can feel entitled. I guess that's it. Entitlement. To what? I dunno. I feel like I have to earn something. What? Dunno that either.

It all goes back to growing up. Seriously, there are so many things I can't remember from my childhood - places we lived, what they looked like. I know, obviously, my sisters lived with us for a while, but I don't have a memory of them being around.

I can't remember when I shut my emotions off. One thing that probably should have been more significant at the time, was when I was about 15 and my boyfriend of the time fell down our back stairs. Mum said it was the first time she'd seen me laugh in a long time. There wasn't much to laugh about. I didn't cry either...for a long time.

So many people throw out the statement, "but you love your parents, because they're your parents". Well, I can't say I do. Never have. I know I feel a closeness for my dad. He's great. He's the loveliest guy and so easy going, but I truly struggle to right 'love' on cards and things, because I honestly don't feel it. Now that I've typed that, I feel guilty, because Dad really is great. Maybe it's just that I don't know what it's supposed to feel like - to love family.

Mum's another matter entirely. I like her, mostly. She can be funny. She's very smart - she knows things nobody else would know. If you need to know something obscure or you want to find out something straight away, she's the one to ring. She just knows stuff. But if you're not like her, or you have opposing views to her, you're 'wrong'. Nobody can be different. She's judgemental, can be racist, has a tendency to be snobbish (due to her upbringing rather than her current circumstances), and uses emotional blackmail without blinking and as if it's the norm. Do I love her? How can you love someone who wasn't able to show you what love was?

In the house I remember the most, where my brother and I lived with mum and her boyfriend (and I'm pretty sure two of my sisters were there for a while too), my brother and I fought constantly. I'm sure it was out of frustration and the fact that we weren't allowed to do anything, say anything, go anywhere, without getting in trouble in some way, or being made to feel guilty ("My children aren't allowed to have opinions."). Mum didn't know how to raise a boy, so C got treated like a girl and was chastised if he did normal boy things. He was the 'filthy bastard'. I was the 'dirty slut'. I don't know why. We tried to be perfect. Well, I did. C was just trying to grow up.

I imagine using a wooden spoon was a pretty standard parenting technique back then. And belts. I remember my mum's boyfriend's black leather belt hung on the back of their bedroom door. I remember it being taken down from there. What happened after that is some of what I can't remember. There are images in my head, but they're hard to describe.

My bedroom was next to my mother's. The head of my bed was against our adjoining wall. She and her boyfriend would fight in there. I heard a lot.

I never had friends over. Even if I wanted to, I was too embarrassed. Our house looked like shit. Yeah, the table was clean, the beds made, the carpet vacuumed. But there were cobwebs, insects, things were falling apart. The house smelled of stale cigarette smoke and beer. The garden was a mess. Nothing was ever new.

I don't think mum ever wanted kids. She certainly didn't know how to raise them, how to show affection, how to give positive reinforcement, how to encourage. I always had the feeling that having kids was a burden to her. Like somehow, having kids had spoiled things for her and that we were a hindrance, disallowing the life of luxury she could have had.

My brother and I learned to survive on our own. The determination we both have now, comes from within. We weren't taught how to be independent. We had to be. We had no other choice.

I have a few close attachments now. People I care about deeply - and I'll go out of my way to nurture those relationships. But they're few. I find it very easy, almost too easy, to detach myself. So you came into my life for a while. I like you. That's cool. But if you're not around? Oh well, I got on before and I'll get on again. Discard seems like a harsh word to use, but in essence, that's what it is, isn't it? Discarding people, or parts of your life that no longer suit.

My sister described me a long time ago as 'resilient'. No. It was more like, I was living in a house with people I didn't relate to, didn't want to be with, didn't need and didn't feel any emotional connection with. I'd already separated myself from myself, back then. It's easier to deal with things when it's not really you dealing with it. It's easier to walk away. It's easier to forget.

I don't want to continually be feeling detached. Or does everybody feel like that?

I did have a point I originally wanted to make, when I started typing. I haven't been able to put it into words. Today wasn't the day for it.