Family dinner as a six year old in my house.

[The Wall]

The following is a wide-eyed, whipped and funnelled around take on my early experience with my parents. The story will rock and roll between examples, descriptions, Interpretations, feelings, narratives and the like. Im writng this in advance because I feel scrambled and disorganized. If I attempt to type on my little, on-screen keyboard on my droid, in a more organized fashion. I will prefer to physically write on my legal pad. I hope this is a good first impression, being this is my first post, despite my, what I presume will be, cluttered and muddled thoughts.

 

Take a walk with me.....

 

You're six years old. Sitting down at the table. You review to yourself in flashes, how people In school dont talk to you. How youre naturally bigger than other people, and the teacher told your mom she thought you were gonna be a bully, simply because you were a lot taller, by about six inches, than the average person in my grade, in this particular elementary school. You have a few friends, but you dont know how to be friends with them. For instance, you acquired a phone number from a friend and continually called him, say three or four times, usually within a breath of each other. You talk to him about school, but you dont know what to say. Youre both on the phone. You wanted to talk to someone so bad. But now youre silent. He asks, "Do you know how many days are in the year?", I pause, the answer doesnt come right away, but I want to know this, so I take more time, a few seconds, "uuuuummmm", "You dont know how many days are in a year?" "Well no, my parents never taught me, nor did they in school", my friend doesnt say anything, then says, "its 365". I scratch, beg, yearn, reach for something to tell him, that I could show and teach him. Nothing comes to mind and he ends the phone call politely. Several times later, I think of a game. I figure this is a way where I can entertain him, and be generous so he'll keep coming back. I picked a game I knew hed like. I had to ask him a question, if he couldnt answer it, it was my turn. The first person to answer the question right would win a prize. He won every time. I never gave him anything. I told him id mail him something, or give him something in class. Both things didnt happen. Actually, I did mail him something, with a lot of poking and prodding by me to get my mom to mail the envelop, teach me what I needed to get in order to send it, etc. I told him it was a surprise, and I did send him something unique, although I dont remember, it may have been a little toy or something, along with a letter I wrote him. He eventually, after a week or so, never answered my calls, and mostly ignored me in school. I was sad. Nobody cared in my house or school. I had no friends. There was never anyone there for emotional support. I was devastated.....

 

Anyway, back to the dinner table.....or should I say... Now, the dinner table.

 

My mother always thought she knew better than me. Better than my body. My dad was a man who took orders from my mom. There was never a question, if he disagreed he was just slightly sympathetic in his tone, or slightly less harsh, and may, several days later, give an informal apology, telling me he doesnt understand my mother, or something very similar.

 

Something that has always bugged me, that I was severely torn at the time about, was my mothers willingness to lie, and in the face of her lie, show no signs of guilt, remorse, care or empathy. She was a living stone. Worse, she is attracted to the mythology and symbology of Medusa! Shell turn you into stone! For example, my mother would tell me, at my request, "I didnt put any salt into your mashed potatoes", I would ask her repeatedly. I already, at this point, was very skeptical of her. I always knew she was up to no good. But I had to see it. I had to know it wasnt me. It even got to the point where I physically saw her put salt in the mashed potatoes when she said she wouldnt! When I caught her and questioned her with shock and appallment, she then, no, didnt acknowledge that she poisoned my image of a healthy family. Nor that she poisoned my trust for her word, or even that I caught her lying, or that she lied. She went right into self-designated, nutritional expert. "Its good for you, if you dont get enough salt, you could get sick." I tried reasoning with her, as earnest as ever to find a methodology where we could work together. Where there could be some consistency, some SAFE structure. It didnt happen.... it just got worse... " theres already salt in the mashed potatoes"... as I looked at her, she didnt say a thing, I could tell by her look, she was trying to find a way to be "right", at this point that meant just trying to cover what she did into "this is for your own good", to avoid being vulnerable or open. She has to be in control. Afterall, mother knows best. And she has this bull. This God Forsaken bull! My mom can call upon my father to unleash these dark, red-eyed unsavory dragons, these jaws of shame, denial, threats of violence, of having my head bashed and cracked open with an ash tray. Of having my mouth "washed out with soap", was his saying. Id be instantly terrified. I was always terrified of my father. He was a monster, a reason to have nightmares, he is chemical "X", he is that guy you never want to, by chance, walk by in the park. You know, by the look in his eye, if youre weak, if youre vulnerable to him, in anyway, and he can find an a ti-rational, or repressed emotional "reason", to hurt you, whether its the scowl look, etc. He will. But im unnecessarily building my father up. Such a necessary person to understand! Such a necessary step for my recovery! For my journy of an accurate and rational emotional perspective! Afterall, he is my masculine role model, and ive been forged into him in ways that im not yet conscious! All it will take is a more conscious and ready evil to over ride and control my unconscious, vulnerable black-void to evil, to levy control over me. No! Not this guy! I see the light, I feel the fire! Im in the belly of the beast! Must break free! Lets unite with truth, reason, evidence.....and finalllllly...... freedom....

 

So then I told my mom, as she was readying another emotional defense, "or how about all the salt and vinegar chips I ate"... (I kept going, she seemed to be turning) "or that im havi g so much. This is such a big plate. Theres salt in ham and butter too. I. Getting too much! I dont like the taste!" I should note. Firstly, im sure, readers who made it this far, may be less likely to move on. Because now I will petty you with specifics of my little rotten life event! I would usually first use the emotional responses, like "no, thats too much!" My mom quickly ate those up. I found I had to give it my all. I had to be highly emotional and rational and have a solid footing on what I want (the last part the easiest at this age I wasnt yet completely turned to stone). This interaction ended with her saying, "Im sorry, I wont do it again." Within that same week, I believe two or three days, maybe even the next day. She used salt on my mashed potatoes. She didnt forget. Iasked her not to several times each day I knew she was making potaties. She also, when I tasted the salt and said "theres salt on here, im not dumb" or something. She had a canned reaction, it happened within that very same moment. Like she knew what she did, that I would probably find out and react, and shed add it anyway and just respond in this way to shut me up. I dont remember what it was at this point. But I really gave up. I totally gave up. I just completely gave up. There was nothing. I didnt know what to do or say. My father, I think, actually sided with my mom also, again, let me be really clear. My father was like a side-arm on my moms hip, double barrel shotgun if that aasnt enough, a shit sandwich to remind you whise boss, and above all, completely and utterly incapable of beinv reasonable when needed the most. To the contrary, he was violent, vicious and upsetting. He was, at best, a big fucking wart on your nose, like a very ugly poor old man you just wanted to push out of your wqy because he wont oeave you alone but hes so desperate. My father, was a man tied to my moms panties, all he had to do, is say "no", or "stop", or not oppress, and murder my conscience. The man is a true blue criminal of a healthy emotionally developmental state. This brings me to something else...

 

A spine. My father, an impotent, "tell me to jump, ill ask hiw high", kind if coward. Picked on and tortured me in all ways psychological. He would tell me to lick ends if a battery, reassuring my doubts of the ssfety by telling me it wont hurt, then surprised, at about five, I believed him and did it, then laughing hysterically over it, as again, I was shcoked and appalled, scared to death and completely confused. Wasnt he supposed to take care of me? He was always on a hair-trigger. He revurally threatened his boss with kicking his ass when fraud was commited. But then hed get cheated again and go throw the same display of emotions but do nothing. Well, this explai s a lot about me. This all does. I want to have a spine, my dad had a fucking corkscrew, a jelly fish, needles in the face and the back. He had rage if you had a passive, trance-like, ill accept you and even pretend to envy you kind of atate. My father groomed me to be terrorized. And a rerrorizer. By golly, was I great at hurting people. Unfortunatelg, I still am. I always will be, but not for evil! Lord Vador, youre crimes are great but your soul is weak! I will slay you with my sword of truth, passion and pride! I will not be squished. I will not keep these invisible chains! I will find every key from my past, every light switch turned off in my unconsciius! I will be a genuine human being capable of love! I will master UPB, and I will only accept non-abusive pro self-knowledge relationships.

 

Shit just got real.

 

Wayward, Captain!

 

I hated eating with my parents. I wouldnt be able to get up unless I finished everything on my plate. My dad would tell me this regurally. Of course, he didnt follow this rule. Hed hide Behind my moms back and scrape bits, or more than half of the food off and feed it to his dog! Hed wait for the moment when she wasntooking to trash it! He gave her his whole 800 $ a week paycheck, and begged for 50 $ out of it! Even that he had to fight for! And my mother had the gall to tell him to quit smoking cigarettes, and my dad even hid it from her that he was smoking when he told her he quit. All the while my mom was dropping about 400 $ a week on weed! My mom said he needs to quit because it costs too much money! She even used my D.A.R.E. shirt as a reason for him to stop. All the while she was smoking weed and costing this man a fortune! His lifs, his savings, his sense of self, his pride! And he took it like a good obedient dog! Like a doormat! The man was being hung like a coat! Not me! I will stand up for myself! Counselling, journaling, dreams, relationships, nutrition, exercise, music, art, philosophy, poetry! These are the tools of the intelligent! Creativity, joy, anger! A fool can also have these tools, but a spine and some morals will truly seperate you from the rest! How about you tell her how about you get a job! If youre so interestdd in money, then quit being unemployed and get a damn job! If youre so jolly about money, if you really want to save money, go get some counselling, go attend a group, go for a walk, think of your children, your family, think of yourself, your future! Youre an unempliyed drug addict, with very little education. How about stop buying junk from family dollar that cost twenty bucks a week and gets thrown out the next week! How about, stop talking to your son like hes a little boy, then he will grow up faster and get a jib and be more independent! How about letting me work mother, a very beautiful, virtuous and delicate mother! How about not restraining me from getting a job because "it makes you spoiled and greedy." Yes, oh great! Nothing worse than learning the value of a dollar, learning how to cooperate with others, serve customers, bake, what it takes to be successful, or prepraring me for my future. Seriously, I can smell the spoiled milk from here! Oh, and greed. Yeah, because bribing me with enduring your shit, with going food shopping withyou, by you promising me fast food, or you just handing me some free money, that wont make me greedy. No, by golly, gee wiz. That would never make me think I dont have to earn thibgs. I mean, well lets be fair. You were a handful. I couldnt stand you, not fir a moment. You were somebody I couldnt stand! You made me follow you. I couldnt explore. You got irritated by the question. I was a kid that needed to be domesticated abd rewarded for my submission. I needed to survive afterall. Aw hell, dont get me started oh great mother! I know you meant well and thats all that matters afterall! Youre my mother, you cant do any wrong. You wouldnt lie, you wouldnt blackmail me with not being fed if I didnt go with you. You wouldnt tell me I couodnt say that I was starving because kids in africa starve and im not them. 'You think you have it so bad." No, I know I do! I have it so bad because im starving and youre telling me a story about Africans and trying to correct my usage of words, and dont know how to feed me! Your ideal meal is frozen french fries and t.v dinners! You cant even feed yourself how could you feed me! How could you clqim to be an authority over me! It sickens me! It really sickens me! I know how to eat food and go by the signals of my body! You degrade me for only eating half a bowl of macoroni and cheese! "Oh, you used to be abke to eat a whole bowl, you cant even eat half a bowl now." "Youre fetting too skinny, I think youre getting sick", says the thirty something year old, 50 percent body weight, 230 pounder shorty! Ah, such a living proof of nutritional empricial evidence! You going on tour?! Modellinng maybe!? Maybe you should educate a class on your nutritional knowledge! How wonderful and zesty you are dare mother! And of course I was like 25 percent body fat and still like 20 lbs too overweight. But mother knows best. Its not oike im stressing my arteries, damaging capelleries in my eyes, having sugar crashes, eating too much recined foods, feeling bloated and groggy, feeling irritable and nutritionally deprived, could barely jog a quarter mjle, cant compete in sports for my poor health, mostly stemming from bei g overweight and put down a d axcussed of sickness despite feeling and bei g sick onoy afrer eati g this crap.

 

What do you guys think so far? Also I was careful to protect their identity. I hope I was abstract enough.

[David Twyman]

Horrifying