B's Bootcamp v3

[Bfice3]

I don't know who will be reading this, but this is therapeutic for me, so I'm going to continue...

So, above I discussed my biological father.

Now, I'm going to go into my mom. I was raised by mom as single mother and have a lot memory's of her as that. Arguably, I could even say that her identity never really moved past being a single mother even after she re-married. She married my step-dad when I was in about 4th grade. She was a Baylor graduate, speech pathologist. My step-dad was a potential high school graduate who worked at GM as a factory worker all his life. They were oil and water, but who knows, maybe it worked.

My mom's parents divorced I think all through the 1980's. By all accounts they had a very long, drawn out painful divorce. The end result being my mom and her mom on one side, with my mom's sister and my mom's dad on the other side. For a while, like maybe 3 years, there was a period where we (my brother and I) would go to live at my aunt's house for a week or two during the summer. Probably age 6-8 or something. But beyond that there was zero contact with my aunt or her sons until I was 18. Similar situation with my mom's dad. I have a few memories of seeing him when I was young, but then nothing for well over a decade.

The thing about all of this isolation or separation is that after growing up like that...and experiencing it...even when I would see my grandfather many years later, I felt many strong emotions of love towards him, but at the same time there was now this huge, awkward, wall or distance that existed. I wanted to love him. I wanted to know and respect him. But something inside me told me not to get too close. And, so I never did. As I got older, I knew that I was an adult and I had a choice to interact with my family members who had been absent so much in my life. And that if I didn't, then it was me who wasn't doing it. But still...something inside of me always felt self-pity...and would scream, "They never loved me. They were never there for me. Why should I be there for them now?"

My aunt. My mom's sister. Had two sons. Each had their own biological father, and they were both raised, and we were all told, that a third man (who coincidentally had the same first name as the 2nd son) was both of their biological fathers. The only reason I know this, is because at some point, my mom took it upon herself to bring her nephew, my cousin, to our house and tell him this in front of all of us.

My grandmother. My mom's mom. This lady. I love her to death, but she was tough as nails. She scared me some as a kid. She was a fantastic cook and to this day I will swear up and down that she could put out the very best Thanksgiving Day spread that any of you have ever had. She was a poor as dirt (self-admitted) family and earned everything she ever had working as a woman in a man's world. We always thought she was 'rich' because she had a swimming pool and lived on a country club. My grandmother was the 'matriarch' of our family and would use her will and money as a means to control people. I do think she genuinely loved me, but her love often came with rules. She was a good woman. A tough woman. But, she definitely contributed to many of my mom's issues and also directly to my own. She was very active in our lives even though she lived 4 hours away. I even went to live with her for about a year in high school.

My step-dad. Jim. That's all anyone ever called him. He was always just Jim. He had tattoos and that was always looked down upon. He cussed a lot, was angry a lot, and wasn't really a very good role model in many regards. However, he was there. He was there for my whole life. He just passed away this past November and I was the only person there who stood up and spoke at his passing. After college he would start to refer to me as 'son' when saying goodbye on the phone, and I would call him on 'Father's Day' which I think he liked. Growing up I made to feel that Jim was inferior by my mom and grandmother (I'm guessing). But, now, in counseling and reflecting back, I'm starting to wonder if Jim may have actually been one of the more solid figures that I had in my life. My mom and grandmother who I so revered...in an almost deity like way...were infallible and therefore it had to be this rough-around-the-edges blue-collar man with tattoos that was the bad guy.

Okay.

I guess that's enough for right now. I apologize again if this is going in a frowned upon direction. But for me, this is the struggle I'm working through. I am breaking down my life in all aspects, all the way down to the very idea and understanding of what it means to be in existence...and where I end up...I don't know. But, hopefully I'll know who I am, what I want, and where I want to go.

I'm feeling compelled to say this, so I will...I love you all who read and respond to this.