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22 May 2001 - Dancing like Donna Summer
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Last night while I was lying in bed, I started thinking about when I was about 5 years old. In particular, my love of disco (I was much too young to know any better) and how I would wrap a towel around my head, get up in front of my family and perform to Donna Summer songs. hahahha. I was a totally uninhibited little freak. I pulled it off pretty well I think - except, of course, for the black skin. I may have had a tan at the time but I was a far from black. I did not care though - as long as I was entertaining everyone. What a far cry from what I am now. Somewhere along the way with Mom's mental illness and Dad's fabulous impersonation of a vapor...that part of me was lost. I don't know what day it happened...what event actually squashed it...but I miss it. I can't help but wonder where I would be now if things had not been the way they were. I was always the most outgoing of the three of us kids. All the pictures of us from that time period show me grinning from ear to ear - you would have thought I was made of sunshine. Little did I know that for the next 20 or so years, I would be hit, called names and made to believe that my only priority should be my mother. Suicide attempts (in front of me and my sister), mental hospitals, vicious verbal attacks and prescription drugs was what Mom was about. And Dad, well he sucked. Left when I was 2 and stayed away from her and us (which led to her) as much as a vapor can. Asshole. Weak man. He knew what she was like - he was married to her for 10 years. He did not know what to do so he did nothing. And my brother (the oldest) went to live with him when he was 12 leaving me and my older sister to deal with the mess. She was a mess. Her parents helped out financially and we lived with them for quite awhile. But the bottom line is that she and I had to live with this woman who, by anyones standards, should have been permanately hospitalized and whose children should have been put in another home. She was what dr's call a "Borderline Personality Disorder". This is characterized by the inability to maintain interpersonal relationships (she either adored you or hated you - subject to change without notice), lack of impulse control (in a fight with her boyfriend she once put her fist through a window pane, almost bled to death and was left with a 7 inch scar on her forearm), substance abuse (if I had pain pills from the dr for something - she would steal them) and various other lovable traits. When my sister and I found her dead in her bathroom 3 years ago, we thought for sure it was suicide. It was not. She simply dropped dead at 55. Even after an autopsy there was nothing found wrong with her that would have caused her death. I kind of think it was a self-fullfilling prophecy. Two months before she died she and I were talking about how depressed she had become and the miriad of financial problems she was facing. She looked at me and without a drop of drama said "I just want my life to be over". She had said things like that so many times before that normally the effect was lost on me. After years of hiding the kitchen knives from her so she wouldn't do it, I had finally come to the conclusion that I could not stop her if that is what she wanted to do. But this was not a threat or an attempt to get attention. This felt, to me, like she was resigning herself to what her life was - miserable and with no answer in sight - she REALLY gave up. Interesting that she died just two short months later. Even more interesting is that in that time period she contacted friends she had not spoken to in years and even attended a party for my brother - who had not called in her in 4 years. Seems as though she was tying up some loose ends. God - I did not expect all of that to come out.
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