Steel Family

One of my favorite movies of all time is Steel Magnolias. There are a few really good reasons why. First, I think there's something about a movie revolving around a group of women that will always appeal to other women. No matter how different you may be from the characters in the plot, there's just something about women and the responsibilities and shared experiences that we have that will always appeal to us because we can relate. Second, it's a wonderfully acted movie. There's raw emotion in those performances, which is part of what makes a movie great. Third, and most important for me, is the depiction of family and belonging in the movie.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always envied other people who have large families and are close with even their far extended cousins and family members. Even small families who have tight-knit relationships have been the subject of my jealousy. I've always wanted to have a large, loving family. I've wanted to be surrounded by relatives on holidays, keeping in touch via phone, internet, or mail when we're not around each other. The sense of community and belonging that other people have with their families is not only foreign to me, but it is also very much lusted for and sought after.

There's something about that dream that I have come to realize: it is nearly impossible to achieve. No matter how much I want it, no matter the extent of my willingness to work for it, I cannot have what other people do not want. My immediate family is stressed by the financial and environmental circumstances that we face. It's much easier to draw back, to isolate, and in that isolation to lose sight of who we are and what is important to us. Our relationships are so strange now that it's hard to imagine how we can come back from all the hurt or stress.

Many of my desires for a larger family were met by marrying JJ. My in-laws are a large and loving group. Family holidays are often wonderful events full of love, laughter, and life. Seeing them together has taught me a great deal about what it means to be a family. More than that, seeing the way that they handle conflict has taught me about how families can grow and change, how groups of people can disagree but continue to love each other in spite of that. Yet, lately, even my husband's strong family has had troubles that have brought us all to our knees. There have been incredible, unbelievable disagreements, horrible circumstances that have changed everything, and an almost amazing inability for certain members of the family to see past their own feelings. Even I have been black-balled by a portion of the family for saying something that I had been asked to say in benefit of another member of the family. (Don't think for a moment that it saddens me to see things this way. What was said was said with good reason and was said politely. There is no reason for me to be seeing negatives, but I'm not sad that I am. I simply hope that reason or logic will someday prevail.)

Eventually, as is with the ebb and flow of true family, I know that my in-laws will all come back together. Soon enough, things will change for the better, and they will be able to see past the hurt and circumstance. I have faith in the strength of my family, their family, and I am sure that things will right themselves. In the mean time, I have chosen to learn and grow.

The thing that I have come to realize over the years (and especially lately, with family circumstances in my extended family and with my in-laws) is that you cannot force people to be your family. Family is as much a bloodline as it is a choice. One can be related without being a family, but what I want the most is a family. Moreover, what seems like a small fight or small slight can be more than that. It can burn a bridge. A person's lacking response to an attempt at reaching out can have a lasting impact or hurt. Those things don't always go away, and people don't always forgive. When I choose to do something, I need to mean it. I can't just do something without thinking of the consequences because those consequences may be bigger than I've ever imagined.

I've written before about my paternal grandmother. She was amazing. I think our family would be a great deal closer if she hadn't died when she did. When I think about her and the way she held our family together and about JJ's grandmother and the way the family revolves around her, I realize that I have a lot to live up to in the way of matriarchs. Someday, I hope that I can hold a family together in the way that my grandmother and JJ's grandmother did and do. If I ever have children (which, as of right now, is a pretty big if), I hope that they won't feel the same yearning for more family connections that I do. I hope I will be able to teach them how grateful they ought to be for their family. I hope that my children will appreciate their family, will be close to their family, and will love their family no matter what.

I don't know how to get the family that I've always wanted or to keep together the ones that I have. I'm willing to do the work. I'm willing to put aside differences, to apologize for past wrongs, to do as much as possible to keep in touch. I just need more family in my life. I need that support and love and connection. I've also realized that I need my family to need me as much as I need them. I need to know that I'm a part of something and that I'm wanted. I really hope that I find that soon.

Discomfort and Disappointments

Well, I clearly fail at updating my blog more frequently. On the upside, I'm finally getting to a place where I'm starting to sort through all the clutter in my brain--which sort of works for me because I'm doing the same thing in my actual living space as well.

I mean, I guess calling it my living space is probably stretching things a little bit. I'm back at my parents' house for the time being, until I can get my settlement from the car accident, followed soon after by a car and, subsequently, a job. Let me just say that this is certainly not an ideal arrangement. My family is under a lot of financial strain right now, and adding another person to this mix is probably not making things much easier for them on that front. More than that, it's a personal strain for me. There are a lot of things that I'm struggling to figure out right now, and my family is not making that any easier for me.

I love my family, but we don't get along terribly well. We've never been a feelings sharing kind of family. We tend to be more of a family that places the blame, slams the doors, and makes passive aggressive quips at the dinner table. "Ketchup you say? I couldn't hear you over the sound of how much you suck." (Okay, so maybe no one said those exact words, but it's not far off!) Ultimately, we love each other, but there's never been an adequate way of showing it. And living with a group of people who may or may not love or hate you (depending on the time of day and what you've done for them lately) can be ridiculously exhausting.

Being here makes me feel like I'll never be good enough to garner the acceptance of my mother. I feel like, no matter what I do, it won't be enough to be worthy. It's my action or inaction in the house. It's my choice to get an English degree instead of a nursing degree--which she is in a constant state of trying to change my mind about with little comments like, "I never liked English. I don't really see the need for it." It's my relationships with my friends. It's my marriage. There's always something about me that just doesn't make the cut.

Then, I find myself wondering why it matters at all. If I'm never going to be good enough, then it doesn't really matter what I do at all, does it? It's time for me to start living my life for what makes me happy, not what makes everyone else happy. Of course, that's easier said than done, and it raises a whole set of questions in and of itself: What is it that makes me happy? How can I find a balance between doing what makes me happy and keeping the peace while I'm still at home? Do I have to apologize for who I am?

Mostly, being here just makes me yearn to be back out on my own again. I miss independence. I crave the ability to actually buy my own groceries, have control over my own kitchen and refrigerator. I want to the be the one who calls all the shots about how to arrange the furniture. I want to look at a mess and not be filled with resentment because I have to clean it up when I didn't make it--I want to look at a mess and know that it was all me and that cleaning it up is worth it because making it was worth it. I want to feel like I'm at peace in my own home again. Cleaning up my bedroom, arranging my desk and closets and drawers doesn't matter if I'm only coming up to my room to escape all the discord in the rest of the house. I want to be comfortable with where I'm living again.

I feel like my youth is wasting away. I should be able to go out and have a good time. I should be able to be comfortable with my life and my home. I should be having experiences, rather than sitting in my room at home and waiting for money to come to me so I can fix my fucked up life. I'm so angry about my circumstances. I'm staring to feel consumed by all the bitterness that's accumulating in me. It's not a good bitterness. It's not like the bitterness of dark chocolate which only makes the sweetness that much sweeter, the bitterness that you learn from. It's rough, tearing, horrible bitterness. It's collecting inside of me faster than I can make it go away. This bitterness just makes my need to have a life of my own again all that much more urgent to me.

It would be really great if a car and an apartment just fell into my lap. In the mean time, how do I figure out how to get it together? My counselor wants me to figure out what it is that I want to accomplish with her in my sessions. I suppose this entry alone will give me a decent place to start. The main thing I'd really like to figure out is how to lose all this anger all the time. How do I stop getting angry at other people for trying to commandeer my life? How do I stop the anger that results when other people try to make me feel like a failure for not living my life in the way that they expected me to live it? How do I do what's right for me without caring about disappointing people? I suppose if I could figure out the answers to those questions, I'd be solving everyone's problems.

Family and Reunions

This weekend, my brother and his girlfriend, Jill, stopped in to stay with us for a few days on the way to Jill's house in Boston. My twin brother, as it happens, will be spending the Christmas holidays with the lovely Jill and her parents. They'll also come back through and stay with us for another few days on their way back to Lafayette, Indiana, but my dad and I will be in South Bend, so I won't get to spend a whole lot of time with them.

It's an interesting relationship that my twin and I have with each other. We used to be very close. Then, during our teenage years--probably due to the fact that I was a teenage girl, which automatically makes everything horrible--we grew apart. Lately, we've been much closer, and it's been a very comfortable friendship. I suppose you don't really appreciate your siblings until you don't see them all the time anymore.

We've spent the weekends talking about various things, playing video games together, enjoying family meals, and doing plenty of laughing. I like Jill very much, and I can tell that my brother has a very deep affection for her. It's nice to see him in a comfortable relationship, and I'm very happy for the both of them. I'm also glad that Jill and I have so much in common. We're both English majors, both interested in the same television and mostly the same books. We share some common opinions, and we have a very similar sense of humor. She's witty, which I guess she'd have to be to keep up with my brother's sassy comments. In short, I'd enjoy spending more time with both of them.

It's just been very nice to have my family together again, even if only for a few days. You don't really realize how much you can like each other when you have to spend all your time living with together. When you've all gone your separate ways, you have time to miss each other. You get time to reflect on the things that you liked about them, about all the ways that they made you laugh and smile. Our family is very much a family that loves to laugh together. It's nice to share intelligent conversation and laugh together again. I suppose I hadn't realized how very much I missed it until now.

In other news, my friend Mandy called me today to catch up. We spent some time reminiscing about the halcyon days of youth, and it got me thinking back to my high school days. I found myself thinking about people that we used to hang out with, relationships that happened--or almost happened, as the case may be. I sort of wish that we could all have our own reunion between friends, just to catch up. It would be nice to spend an evening talking about how we used to feel about each other, what we're doing now, and who we've all become. But then, I crave poetry in life, even among people and relationships. (I suppose I should preface that more by saying that I crave more poetry in life which does not begin, "There once was a man from Nantucket...")

Everything was so complicated, but even then, it was so simple. When you get older, not even much older, things get harder. Relationships must be considered--not just romantic ones, but also ones between family and friends--and they come and go. Jobs and opportunities come your way and force you sacrifice things. Your priorities change. Sometimes, you think about family and the future. Money is obtained, lost, needed and valued differently. Unexpected things happen.

I don't think that high-school-me would have expected me to be where I am now. I don't think high-school-me would be disappointed or anything, so don't misinterpret me. I simply think that, when I thought about my life back then, this isn't what I saw for myself. I suppose, however, that it would have been hard to see myself now from the limited perspective that I had back then.

Don't get me wrong, either. I am often surprised at how well I have turned out considering many things. I am fairly intelligent. I am capable and independent. I have no qualms with standing up for myself or others. I am much more wise than I ever thought I would be at any age, let alone in my twenties. I still have to work on my patience, but I'm making great strides in many other categories, all things considered. I could be doing much, much worse. Perhaps my life will keep moving forward in interesting ways, and I will continue to become more than I thought I would be. We can only hope so, right?

And Hope To Die

Alright, so I need to blog more frequently. I even received a Facebook comment about my lack of blog--which was surprising and flattering! In my defense, however, most of the blogs that I follow seem to be lacking as of late too, so I'm not inclined to feel quite so bad about it. To be realistic, though, I probably wouldn't have felt all that bad about it anyways.

Things have been more or less uneventful for me lately. I dropped my nursing courses, which was quick and mostly painless. Part of me still feels a bit like a quitter, but I know that I'm doing the right thing for myself. I don't think that nursing would have made me all that happy in the long run. The most unfortunate part of the whole endeavor is that I now have a ton of science credits, which will probably do very little for me when I switch to an English major. Needless to say, this sets back any potential graduation date as well.

The dorms are interesting, and there's always something to do here. My issues with my roommate were resolved after an R.A. meeting. She's still Crazy McCrazyton, but at least she's resolved to doing some things like putting her stuff away and cleaning the bathroom on a rotating schedule. (If calling her crazy seems unfair, consider the fact that I politely asked her to put her cereal away and replace the toilet paper roll when empty and she didn't speak to me for two days.) She did tell our R.A.'s that I make her feel awkward, which I took a little bit personally. She also said that I got an attitude with her, which I had been really careful not to do in light of her personality. I know how bipolar people operate. You don't rattle the cages. So to tell me that I got an attitude with you when I was attempting to do my best to be nice sort of irks me.

I guess it makes me wonder how exactly it is that I'm required to approach her. I mean, if the usual adult methods don't work, what in the hell am I supposed to do? Is there a formula for this sort of interaction? Is there a manual available somewhere? I'm having extreme difficulty not losing my patience with her.

Not much else is really going on around me. Last night, the girls and I watched Steel Magnolias. We felt there was a need for a chick flick movie night. Three out of five of us are menstruating on the same cycle, so God help anyone else in the building. It's going to be Apocalypse Now when the other two sync up. Even worse will be if my roommate ever syncs up with us and gets extra dramatic--I will probably lose my shit on her.

I was at home this weekend. I'm sure that the universe had a grand laugh at my expense because, no sooner than I got home, I started my period. That, of course, was an adventure since all of my tampons were back at the dorms. Fantastic! Thrillingly, I had to go purchase some. Of course, my mother--helpful as she is--reminded me in her nastiest tone that my period was not anyone else's fault. What a coincidence, since I never blamed anyone else! My mother has an uncanny knack for saying the things that truly irritate me. She continues to remind me of this each weekend that I go home.

Yet, despite that unpleasantness, it was nice to be able to sleep in my own bed and spend some time with my family. Though they do occasionally get on my nerves, I do like being around them for the most part. My grandfather came in for lunch on Sunday afternoon, which was also very nice. He seems to like me much better than he used to, and it makes me grateful. My grandfather has a wealth of interesting stories. I enjoy talking to him, especially when he starts to talk about how things were during the war. It always interests me to hear about how things were in the 30s and 40s.

My plans for the week are vague at best. I have to find some sources for a pathophysiology paper. I also have to study for my biochemistry midterm this week. Gotta love having an eight week course! It's over before you know it! It would be nice if all of my classes were like that. I really do need to buckle down, though. I feel like, as the semester wears on, it's getting harder and harder for me to actually focus, to study. All of this is very complicated, though, because I'm good at studying. I just need to actually get around to doing it.

I feel like an addict, restless and discontent, disconnected. It's too easy to slip back into this apathy, too easy to embrace that high school laziness, high school attitude. The worst part about all of that is how much more prone I am to making terrible choices. I get to a point where I don't really care who I hurt--even if that means hurting myself--or what I'm doing. I fear that I don't really care about myself at all, that my selfishness and egotism is all a grand illusion. Perhaps this is true. Perhaps it's a great facade. Perhaps all my most honest truths are really lies. Wouldn't that just shatter my tiny little world?