Creeva’s World 2.0

Rather build­ing up to the explo­sive end, I fig­ured it bet­ter to start at the end and show how it built up to that.   Hope­fully this will allow me to end this jour­ney with some­thing nice to say.   Since we’re not fin­ished yet I guess I won’t know.  My fam­ily is screwed up, tht’s not a lie.   I don’t think how­ever it’s any more unique or screwed then any­one else’s.   So I guess as I go through this jour­ney I will clas­sify us as nor­mal.   Some scenes may seem absurd.   Some will seem strange.  I how­ever grew up with a bet­ter life with then some peo­ple I know so she would be respon­si­ble for that.   How­ever i can’t go home again.   She told me so, I have no home except my own.

Tomor­row I’ll give more back­ground lead­ing up to the last day I talked to my mother face to face, how­ever we’re look­ing at that day first.   Time to go back 2.5 years ago.  I arrived over to my mother’s house to help my sis­ter out.   My sis­ter had spe­cial juice my father had pur­chased for her (i don’t remem­ber why), and it was being drank by my other sib­lings (not my fathers chil­dren).  My youngest brother, was actively allowed to enter her room at all time and she wasn’t allowed to lock her doors.   My mother was actively look­ing to drive her out, though she was wait­ing until she graduated.

I came over to come to my sis­ters res­cue.   The first thing my mother does is deny any of this hap­pen­ing.   Then she comes and admits it, but comes up with excuses on how the dif­fer­ent things hap­pen.   At this point try­ing to main­tain the peace all around I offered to bring in a mini fridge for my sis­ter and buy a lock for her door since my mother can’t main­tain bound­aries for my youngest sis­ter from both my bio­log­i­cal par­ents.   Since my sis­ter was the last one of the four of us in the house, she got it hte worst.   All the prob­lems that the rest of us went through kept com­pound­ing on her (why my sis­ter talks to her now I can’t fathom).

The first excuse is that my mother won’t have a lock­ing door in her house because my sis­ter doesn’t need pri­vacy that no one would invade her space.  Sec­ondly she said she wasn’t going to pay the elec­tric bill a mini fridge would cost, my step father at this point came down the stairs and started to chime in.   I told him to shut the hell up (ok I used stronger lan­guage), the man who had aban­doned my mother for over a year had no say in this dicus­sion in my book, he had been back less then month.

I had heard my mom cry about how much she hated him.   The main rea­son they got back together?  The noble thing would be to say it was love, maybe it will be again for them.   How­ever my mother’s excuse to me over the pre­vi­ous month of decid­ing if she was going ot take him back was two-fold the first is that she didn’t want to die alone — fair enough.   The sec­ond was the part that dis­gusted me, she didn’t feel she had to work.  She com­plained that this was her time to enjoy with grand­chil­dren and she shouldn’t have to work.   She told me how she was going to pay all the bills with her inher­i­tance and be happy.  That was the life she always envi­sioned and she was upset she wasn’t going to get it.  She sounded like the preppy girl com­plain­ing that she came in sec­ond place in a beauty pagent, and if she cried and screamed loud enough some­one else would fix it.

She got back together with him, not for love, but live a more com­fort­able life.   Why I won’t explic­itly say that, some­one who lies in bed with some­one else for money as the pri­mary reason.……

I knew this, my sib­lings knew this, my wife knew this.   He held no power over me and I wasn’t going to have any of it.   He had put my mother through months of pain, help­ing my mother out because of this was part of the rea­son I moved back to Ohio from Ore­gon.   I had been a part of that house and fam­ily for many years.   At this point he asked me to leave.   As I’m walk­ing out I’m still argu­ing on my way to the car.   My mother told me the words that are oppo­site of what I’ve been told that a mother is sup­posed to say — she told me that it wasn’t my home anymore.

I had grown up my whole life with my mother telling me that it would always be my home.   She how­ever would choose to be with her part time hus­band and choose his side over mine.   It wasn’t the first time she did that though.  My step father told me to never come back and I wasn’t wel­come there any­more.   So be it.   My mother has relin­quished what she wants or believes in for her com­fort.   She tries now to deny what she said (like she always denies what she says) but my wife heard it also and her jar dropped.   My wife had seen the drag out fights amongst my fam­ily, and this wasn’t the worst.  This was my mother cling­ing to safety and the fear of being alone.  If I thought she did it because she wanted to, because love made her do strange things, then I would for­give.  My mother is more cal­cu­lat­ing in pro­tect­ing her­self though.  She will pro­tect her­self over the expense of others.

For the record if my step father ever shows up on my door step, the first thing I’m doing is call­ing the police.

This is the inci­dent that is the prover­bial straw.  Does it sound stu­pid?  I’m sure it does.   I won’t deny it.   Start­ing tomor­row we’ll be work­ing on how we got to here.

Read Part 1 Here