Check in. Thinking about mental health for obvious reasons. I am not sure what is up with my dad but even if it's mental illness I feel it's safer for my mental health to keep communication off since he has become so prone to these scary sudden excessively abusive yelling fits that are so off the charts, telenovela drama times 100000.
I'm doing okay. I'm still exercising a moderate amount every day, meditating, eating healthy, keeping in touch with friends. I'm taking a few days off from weed to process my thoughts, now that I've moved past the traumatized stage and am eager to sort this out in my mind so I can stop obsessively running in mental circles trying to understand what happened, if he's okay, if he's just horrid, what is the ethical thing to do, what is best for me, etc...
I am sure I am at higher risk for developing mental illness for many reasons, and seeing my dad join the crazy ranks is scary, if his behavior is a mental illness related thing. Because if so, that would make me the only person in my immediate family left who is coping. I am the youngest. I feel like I can't really support three crazy people simultaneously all alone.
I distanced myself from my mom and brother in my 20s because they were interfering with my ability to work and complete college because they never left me alone, frequently called in the middle of the night yelling, and my voicemail was always full because my mom would leave hundreds of bullying messages a day while I was at work, which is the reason I changed my phone number.
My dad ditched the situation around that time, so I took his lead and did the same, and tried my best to focus on my goals. But he demanded a lot of emotional labor from me about my parents' divorce. I became his therapist. If I tried living my own life he'd get mad and then I'd feel bad so I felt like I had to be available for him 24/7. Just like I felt with my brother and my mom.
What a load to put on a 20-something. All adults. Coming to me in crisis all the time. Feeling guilted into these totally one-way relationships, while I certainly had my own feelings to deal with about my parents divorce, my own marriage, my rape, lots of death and grief, working full time and studying full time, in poverty. At the time it was all I knew, but in retrospect, wow. I was carrying SUCH a heavy load and no one said 'hey good job' or anything. Ah womanhood.
Where am I going with this long winded autobiography.
I've been happier now not carrying everyone's load and not being everyone's therapist, although people still seem to try do that to me, as if I have a sign on my head advertising free services. I'm WAY better at boundaries now but I still worry and feel guilty if I ignore a text or message or block a stalker even. I've just learned to swallow it and breathe and remind myself that self care needs to be the first priority, lest I end up like them.
So for me, as I've annoyingly repeated so often, pandemic was a major relief, to get a fuckin minute alone. It's been awesome to finally be able to work on myself, and heal all these traumas. I feel I've been moving in the right direction. Growing. Learning how to do better. Re-parenting myself.
I am so grateful that I had a lot of very wise professors to look up to, and a woman rabbi who helped me so much at that time with calm, sane advice when I needed it most. I never thanked her enough for it and I regret that. I don't totally belong but she allowed me in, and many professors took me under their wing, and if they hadn't I don't know... I might not have survived.
I read a lot of books. Women Who Run With The Wolves of course, and many others that helped guide me when I had no guidance. I prayed to my grandmothers when I had no one else. I pretended my role models were my mothers. I pretended whatever it took to keep going. I got some really excellent therapy, and art therapy.
Anyways whatever. I'm alive. And now I'm a whole adult. I don't have all the answers I want. But I want to do the right thing, whatever that is, without hurting anyone, and without martyring myself.
I love my crazy family whether I talk to them or not. It's hard. But I can't wish for things to be different than they are. I feel their death approaching and I'll have to be the one to bury them all. I hate being the youngest with all responsibility on me while feeling this confused about what I should do. I'd like to be able to just focus on my own life. But in a way it's their mistakes that have propelled me to succeed to this point. My fear of becoming them has motivated me. My wish to do the things my mom wasn't able to complete. To honor her in this roundabout way.
This may be my longest entry in the history of my diary.
8:47 p.m. - 2021-10-18