So once again it's happened. I got in a stupid fight about stupid crap with my parents. I've been in St. Louis now for 2 days. Despite what's happened (and what they might say) I really have tried to get along with them when I go home. I try to do as much as I can for them when I go home. I cook, I clean, I volunteer to do as many little chores and things that I can. Too bad I can't keep my mouth shut.
We never really want to hear what the other one's saying. We yell. Both sides are really good at coming up with barbed things to shout at the other one (that have nothing to do with the reason we're fighting). They think I'm like this raging pyscho, but the truth is I'm not. No one really gets me worked up like they do. Probably because they're my parents. I've had people do all sorts of awful, really nasty shit to me. I've had people choke me, smack me, shoot at me (yes), and I've been cursed and cussed by all sorts of people...and yet...the slightest thing they do sets me off. Not that other stuff.
Part of me is guilty that they still help me out as much as they do. I want to be this independent, person (man) and yet I'm still getting their help. Now you'd think that would make me not want to yell at them...but it doesn't. I think sometimes I'm just trying to sabatoge my life. Like I want them to cut me off, write me off just so I'll have no other choice but to go it alone. This is my last semester of that though, so hopefully that will go away.
Anyway, I'm probably going to go back tomorrow to retrieve a few things (and to part with them in a better manner). I still won't ever forget this one, though. My dad yelling at me in the driveway...telling me I dissapoint him. Where the hell do you go after something like that? The only reason I go to college is because of him. He's the only reason I do a lot of things. And yet, hearing him say that did't really upset me...or shock me. I've kind of always know that I dissapoint him. Every fault I have is "the Johnson" in me (my mother's maiden name). As I've grown up, it seems I've beceome more and more "Johnson." Nevermind that his family is just as fucked up as nearly everyone eles's. I used to think that if he died or something I'd quit school and be a hobo or something. The truth, though, is that I have more reasons now to live my life that just making him happy or proud...or whatever.
The part that worrys me is that I know I'm going to be hard on my own kids, too. The thing parents and children need to realize is this: people are people. And by that I mean, just because you call someone "Mom" or "son" doesn't dimish that. We all have roles we try to play, but in the end all we are is people. People with hopes and dreams, fears and failures. Speaking of which, I have a lot of fears, but letting my parents down is no longer one of them. Not because I've already done that (which I have) but because I don't think there is anyway a person can't let their parents down. Everyone grows up thinking they're going to be president or whatever. No one thinks, "I'm going to grow up and be a middle American. I'm going to work in a shitty little office and then die..." The same about kids. No one thinks, "I'm going to have a son who is boring and introverted...who can't make friends and who won't ever do anything interesting." The ideal person is also emotionless. Well, not totally...after all the ideal child is supposed to be grateful he/she was born. But that's it. There is no room for desires, fears, or hopes. These things can cause conflict. Kids aren't a fungus...they're not an extension of a parent...like a arm or a foot. They're living breathing independent states. Little nations, comeplet wit a Homeland Insecurity department. Give them an inch and they demand seven more.
Like the title of this post says, all this would be hysterically funny if it weren't my life. I keep falling into the same traps, it's pathetic. I can only say that I must be stupid, because only a stupid person would keep tripping over his shoelaces and never once think of tying them...which is what I'm doing. At least I'm man enough to say when I've fucked up, and when I'm wrong. I do feel good about that. I also have no problem saying when I don't know something. I take pride in that, if nothing else. The older I get, the less respect I have for people who bullshit through life, or who act like their shit doesn't stink. It takes two to tango, make a baby, and have a war. I don't take comfort in knowing this is only half my fault, but I respect myself for claiming what's mine.
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The most difficult thing for any parent is to recognize the "free will" of their child. It is a reminder that they are a creation all of the Creator's own and not of their own personal loins. I have had to learn this over and over with the 8 kids in our blended family...
It is equally hard to bite one's lip when you see someone you care about--about to make a mistake of some sort. It's hard to let them make the mistake. Our 8 children all over the place in terms of "worldly success" and yet we "love" each one ("love" is in quotations because it seems inadequate)
Similarly, I remember the knock down/drag outs with my own father. He wanted me to go into advertising and never marry. I was the last child of his to blossom (early 30's). He was stingy with his praise and yet, I have no doubt that he finally happy that I found my own happiness.
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