‘It’s all a misunderstanding'

I tell my ma what happened between me and the evil step-monster…As I already knew in my gut what my ma’s reaction would be, it still helped knowing the monster was in the wrong and it wasn’t her place to say *excuse the language* shit about me and whether I am to be in the family or not…My talk with my ma calmed me down enough to get through work, barely. I also had a great friend there to help keep me moving through the day…Thanks ‘A’, You are the greatest!! My ma just told me to get through the day and come over after work...

After work, I drove to my ‘real’ home where both my parents were waiting (the ones who care about me, the real ME!) We discussed what actions to take and decided that my ma would call the next day. The good thing was that I was returning to therapy the very next day. I think it was really weird timing, how devastated, depressed and basically feeling so low. It was just a weird deal. So I went home and tried to sleep…Obviously, sleep didn’t come very easily that night.

February 28, 2006

I got up and carry on like the rug wasn’t yanked out from underneath me. (Well I can put on a good face that’s for damm sure.) I make through my day at work. Who ever invented the ‘DND’ (Do not disturb) option on business phones was a flipping genius! I put my phone on DND, turned some music on and just kept my head down and my nose to the grindstone. It wasn’t easy and too many thoughts were racing through my head. I still was feeling numb to it all. Yet I was starting to get curious about what my father had to say to my ma when she called.

Soooo, being curious me and not being able to think about anything else, I just had to know. I had wondered too long and needed to know whether my father would make this a battle or would he support me. What would he say? It was driving me crazy. So I made the call. It took a bit to get a hold of my ma. With me being optimistic me, I really didn’t think that things could get any worse. Man, trust me…It did!

The phone rang; my ma picked up and spoke, knowing in her gut that it was me. I knew what it was bad just by her tone and took a deep breath. Ma began her story of relating the conversation that occurred. The clique saying ‘Its got to get worse before it gets better’ was the understatement of the year for me at that moment as I listen to my ma tell the story.

That morning over coffee my ‘lovely’ stepmother told my father that she and I had a ‘misunderstanding’ and I blew up. (if you barely know me, you would know I rarely ‘blow up’ and usually will stuff my feelings as long as the other doesn’t get hurt) My stepmother told my dad how I must have just misunderstood her. She didn’t mean to upset me so but she felt it was her place to express her feelings. My ma proceeded to let my father have a good verbal lashing, mostly because she saw me the night prior and how devastated I was. Here is my father taking her side and preaching to my mother about how I need to get my emotions under control and how I really must have just misunderstood my stepmother. My mother told my father that he just lost his daughter by not even caring to hear her side of the story and to assume that she is in the wrong.

Ma and I cried together during the whole story. My daddy called me after my ma and I ended our call just to let me know he loved me no matter what. I left work early that day to go to my first therapy appointment in 10 years or so. I don’t remember the drive to my appointment nor do I remember sitting in the waiting room. What I do remember is looking up into the clear blue eyes of my old friend and breathing a sigh of relief.

My therapist. Although when I last went, I hated going for the longest time…One day he earned my trust and ever since I have been able to be completely honest and open. As I walked the very short walk down the hallway to his office, I could feel the tension lessen in my shoulders and relief begin to enter into me. I sat down on the plush tan couch within his office since I wanted to be near the door, just in case. I trusted my therapist but not myself and so I felt I needed that way out…Just…in…case…

We began our session. He asked how I was, I told him I have had better days. He said ok want to tell me? I said well yes but I want to back up a bit. When you are ready was his response. I took a deep breath and dove. Dove right into that big empty pool. It was scary but I knew I had to get it out. It was an overwhelming black fog that was choking me. I began talking explaining how my brother moved, they bought a house in AZ for my bro so he didn’t have to rent and as an investment, how I felt my self sinking and others noticed. I paused and began the story of the day prior. When I was finished, my brow was damp and I was breathing hard as if I had ran miles. Yet I felt cleaner, calmer and clearer. As I gathered myself together, my therapist smiled and told me how extremely strong person I am and how he was proud to know that I learned enough to know when I needed help to get back on my feet. He began his questions and I gave answers. Then our session was over. I was in shock again cuz in his office, I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about those words haunting me in my dreams or while I am working. I was safe within those 4 walls. We made our follow up appointments and we talked about antidepressants. I turned the antidepressants down for now.

 **Finally I have continued this story...Trust me there is more to come...Things have definitely have been changing...Some good and some bad**

…So to continue the story I started awhile back about family…I can’t seem to get the words to the paper or screen, it seems to be getting harder as each day passes…Understand that this has been going on for 24 years almost 25..The last 2 years things have gotten worse. So being that today is fathers day, I can’t seem to sleep or relax nor stop my mind from thinking of all the coulda, woulda, shoulda, or mainly the whys…

Where I left off, my evil step ma and perfect sister had invaded the little time I had found with my real father. So shortly after I turned 18, I moved out on my own. I had my first real job in my career and was able to handle things on my own. No one supported me from that house. My brother was too wrapped up in his drug phase to really notice or care. My father, stepmother and sister all told me I was making a serious mistake and would be back…During the two years I lived in my apartment a mere 20 mins from my home town, not once did they step through my door.

During this time, my mother met my daddy (step but more of a father than I ever known)…Soon I had a new daddy. He became the one I would call if I had problems with my car or if I needed a hug or someone just to listen. He would call me to take me to dinner. Just me…He is the most amazing daddy I could ever ask for and he never had to be like that…since I am not his real daughter but nothing makes either of us happier than the introductions as ‘this is my dad or this is my daughter’…I am so lucky. Granted our father daughter relationship didn’t come easy also but we learned from each other…Slowly understood that we wanted the best for our family.

As the years past, things went from bad to decent to worse to good to the ultimate worse family battle known in my heart. It was the battle that just knocked me down at the knees, sucked the breath from my lungs, torn my heart to pieces…I wondered (and still do) if I will make it through. This battle began towards the end of 2005 and the final blow came February 27, 2006…

Weird how I can remember the date. I can remember where I was, I can remember the weather and how exactly I felt. I can’t remember who picked me back up or how I made it through my work day…I can’t remember driving home that night or how I slept that night. I don’t remember the following days cuz I really had lost my drive and let the darkness roll over me. I got up each day like a robot and showered, dressed, went to work, came home, and stare at then TV..My cell would ring and ring with the dear people in my life calling to see how I was. I didn’t hear it, I didn’t have the physical strength to answer the phone or listen to the voice mails. That was at least while I was alone. At work or around others, oh Hannah, I was putting a front like no ones business.

So I wonder at this point in my story to type the words that devastated me 6 months ago. The words that haunt me in my sleep and catch me when I least expect them to travel through my head…the misunderstanding…ok..here goes nothing…

Rewind to Feb 27, 2006…It’s a normal day and growing near the time of the first of two weddings I was a part of this spring. Work was busy as it always is and life seemed to be adjusting well to my brother being gone, myself and Roli living in our new place and adjusting to our new roommate. I felt like things were going great. Things were coming together for the weddings, showers, and parties. Things were good. Until I made the call, I called my hairdresser..Who is my stepmother. Granted we don’t get along all that well but she will do my hair for free and with the weddings fast approaching, I figured it was a good idea to get a trim and refresh the color. Also assuming she would have no problem since we had talked about it back in November about the upcoming weddings and such. So it wasn’t a big surprise for me to call. It was previously discussed.

The call goes like this.

Me call, get her on the line, being very nice and cordial, ask her how she is and whats been going on and if I could get on her schedule in the near future?

Silence…

Me ask if she is still there..

Silence...after a few moments of that I hear, a cough and..

Her: well isn’t this just interesting?

Me: what do you mean?

Her: Well I am not gonna do your hair until…

She trails off like she is laying a threat down…

Me: well that’s fine. I am not gonna make you do my hair if you don’t have time.

Her: no until you can get your life together and treat your family with respect and dignity they deserve.

Me: uh uh uh what?

Her: you heard me. I don’t want you apart of this family until you can do that.

Me: well honestly, until you can treat me as apart of the family, I don’t care nor want to be apart of this family…have a great life. *hung up*

I stand shaking in the woman’s bathroom (since that’s the only spot for a private conversation) not knowing what to do. Anger rushed through and ran its course through every vein in my body. I know I thought about chucking my cell at the tile wall…Slowly I turned, opened the door, walked towards the shop and out side. It was a sunny February day but chilly…Its MN remember. I stood outside shaking from the anger and the cold for another 5 mins…I still didn’t know what to do. The anger was going out of me and in rushed the next feeling of utter lost. Thoughts started flying insanely through my head. I couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts.

‘Did she just kick me out of my own family?’

‘How did this happen?’

‘What did I do?’

‘Who does she think she is?’

‘Call ma’

When that last thought flew through at break neck speed, I seemed to snap back to reality and knew my mother needed to know this. Maybe she would have a better idea as to what to do…I call her house – no answer, I call her work – she is off today, and finally I call her cell – no answer. I leave a voice mail at her house and on her cell…I start to panic as to what I am going to do…I call my daddy…The second I hear his voice I broke down…Sobbing uncontrollably, trying to explain to him what happened..finally just tell him to find my mama and have her call me asap. He tells me he loves me and we will figure it out and fix whatever happened. My daddy is always there. He finds my ma, she calls and I start crying again…Yet she calms me down enough so I can tell her what happened.

…Ok so I am gonna stop here…I am tried and need some sleep…well at least I should try to get some…I hope to get some more strength to tell the rest of this story…It helps to healing and letting go process I am in the middle of. Thank you for listening or reading… 

**Just so you all know...This is the begining of a journey of new healing, bettering one's self. I felt it was needed to get the whole story, even the dirty history...I am proud to be able to write this and it helps bring the journey of self healing become more real to me...**

Many years ago…My parents parted ways. My mom moved out of the house we grew up in. My brother and I stayed at the house with our father.

My ma was always the stable one, the dependable. My father was never around. He worked for the family business at the time. 6 and half days a week, 10 hour days. My bro and I would only see him right away in the morning and just before our bedtime. My favorite time was during the winter when my father would make the ice rink in our backyard. That would mean he would get home a bit earlier and we would get to stay up a bit later…Otherwise, my father was really not apart of our lives. Granted my parents had their issues. But for my father, work came first then family. For my ma, family came first and then work. She was raised in a family that was really a family. Her mom and dad supported her endlessly. Whereas my father was raised in a family filled with competition and disappointment. It was a family that didn’t break the bad habits of the families previous. Those bad habits continued down the generations.

I am the oldest which means I have a higher standard to meet. A standard that I always seem to fall short of, well so it seems to my father. In all honestly, he has never really been cruel or abusive to me. It just has been tone of voice, a snide comment, body language that has always lead me to feel the way I do…The thing is he is the stable dependable son to his parents and they did the same thing to him as he is doing to me. The difference from his situation with his parents and our situation is that I have stood up to him many, many years before he ever did.

While growing up, there has always been a lack of a relationship between my father and I. I wasn’t a huge athlete, I was the artist. I wasn’t a huge golfer, I was the reader. So we lacked a common interest. (Minus hockey) He would spend hours with my brother, teaching him how to golf, adjust his swing, how to putt, how to kick a soccer ball to the top corner of the goal, how to block, etc. We didn’t have that one on one time. I submersed myself into reading, school work, painting, and writing. Hoping those talents would gain the approval that seemed to be missing from my life. I wanted his approval so desperately bad, it would send me into bouts of depression.

So at 14, I moved out into my mom’s house. The depression had slowly turned into anger towards my father and even my brother. My mom and I talked at great length at what was the best decision for me. To better myself and hopefully over time, gain a relationship with my father. I went to the same counselor that my parents had gone to for the previous years. I went for 2 years. During that time, my ma had told my father that he was losing his daughter and if he wanted her in his life, he’d better figure a way to get me to let him back in. That seemed to snap something awake within him. For the next year, I refused to talk to him directly and I wouldn’t be in the same room as him alone. I didn’t think he had grounds to after 14 years just walk back into my life and think he could be my father. I felt harden and cold against him. I kept a huge front up that I didn’t want him in my life. Deep down, I knew I wanted that ‘father daughter’ relationship you see on tv or in the movies. My father knew nothing of what I liked or my hobbies. He knew nothing of what made me tick. During that first year of me being out of his house, he would send me greeting cards once a week. I would get them every week, some would be funny, others cute, and others emotional. They basically were just letting me know he was thinking of me. The following year, under recommendation of my mom and counselor, I relented. Once a month, my father and I would have a ‘date’. He planned them for the first 6 months. My mom told him some of the things I liked and that was how it started. We would go to the art museum. He took me to the latest plays or newest restaurants. During that year we grew and found that we did have some of the same interests. I showed him things he would have never realized he liked. I showed him how to find treasures at little hole in the wall antique stores. Our relationship definitely made a turn for the better and at the very same time the relationship with my mom was taking a turn for the worst.

Looking back, my mom and I were just in the hellish teenage years. My ma and I started to grow apart during those years. Eventually, we came to our ‘blow out heard round the world’ and I moved back to my father’s house. Where I thought I would have more freedoms but the whole thing about the oldest paving the way became so very true. I pushed and pushed the limits to gain the independence or the ‘something’ I was searching for.

Around 17, my father started dating another woman. I was leery since she seemed like she was chasing someone who she thought she could change or wasn’t truly who she wanted. (which as time as shown, she still isn’t happy with my father…well it all depends on which way the wind blows up her skirt)…My ma and I started talking again. I realized I was being a real jerk to her and she had said that it was a lot of growing pains for me. The thanksgiving of that year, my future evil stepmother and perfect stepsister moved into the house that was always mine…My family meaning ma, father, brother and I. All of sudden it was expected we all change to match them. She moved in, started changing things. It was very hard to watch. Of course my bro didn’t care for he was just getting into his drugs. So he could had cared less, he was just numb to it all anyways. By Christmas we were just a ‘big happy family’…the first few months were fine – the honeymoon stage. My ‘father-daughter’ dates became ‘father and his favorite girls’. My brother was always gone doing whatever he was doing back then. So I lost those precious moments that I got the ‘one on one’ time with my father. I accepted it since that was ‘what I was supposed to do’ but why couldn’t he just see??? I was the blood relation to him…But I suppose he was sleeping with the enemy so suppose he had to keep her happy. I was so angry with her and her perfect daughter for they took that away from me only when I had only gotten a taste of what a real relationship with my father could be…

Every family has that one person that is just that…THE BLACK SHEEP…The one who may be the worthless person that is constantly getting into trouble, not going any where with their life, and sucks everyone else in the family dry with their bad attitude, the need for money or negativity.

OR…

The black sheep may be the one that is continually there at the drop of a hat. The who if a family member needed something, this black sheep was the one who was there…The one that graduated high school w/ highest honors, college with honors and has held a career for the last 5 years. The one that never asks for anything and takes care of everything on their own. This one is the one that can’t ever seem to meet the approval of certain family members and is constantly getting put down. ‘Not good enough’ is how this one has always felt.

Sometimes things just don’t turn out the way you have always hoped, wanted, dreamed, wished on every darn star in the sky…(Yes I realize that ts life and that’s what is great about life is the UNEXPECTED!! Trust me, I truly enjoy that!) But what should come naturally for family…is acceptance for who a person is and unconditional love. When that doesn’t happen is when we enter into the dark unknowns of being a ‘black sheep’. After so many years of being that black sheep, one gets rather used to the idea and comfortable in the darkness. Until one day, it slaps you in the face while giving a high karate kick to your teeth. It just plain devastates that comfortable black sheep all over again. The doubts rolls back in and the confusion as to what/who/how/why they are as a being. The black sheep just stands there and takes it until they fall down. Break down, basically. Then they wonder how the rest of the family will handle this devastation…Will they miss that trusty black sheep? Will they even notice the black sheep is gone? Will they assume the worst without even asking? How many other kicks to the face will the black sheep be able to handle? Does it even matter?

Although the black sheep is quite used to being the whipping post and treated rather as an outsider for the most part…Just because the family set their own personal goals for the black sheep too high…That black sheep has met a lot of goals and continues to make/meet goals but those goals are always one short to approval. Why does that approval matter? Well because the black sheep watches the family and sees how the sheep are treated. The other sheep get treated a lot better. I mean A LOT better. The black sheep has always been very independent and sufficient on their own…But yet the family continually is saying how the black sheep didn’t quite meet the goals right or a decision was made wrongly…In other words, the family is giving their opinion when they should be supportive…

I am the black sheep but I am the second of the two examples I gave at the beginning…

In loving memory…(January 4, 2000)

6 years ago…I lost the greatest role model I will ever know yet gained the best guardian angel I could ever ask for…Time does heal yet it never get easier to be with out her laughter or smile.

6 years ago…My life took a giant turn for the worst. When the call came through for me to leave work and come directly home, I knew something was greatly greatly wrong!! I was about half way home and I felt the sudden urge to go to my ma’s (I was living at my real dad’s at the time). Yet I continued home. I walked in the house with more and more dread settling on my shoulders. My bro met me at the top of the stairs and I could feel his panic. I grabbed his hand and we went into the kitchen to where our dad was. There it was, I truly knew it was my Grams. Dammit! It wasn’t true…My dad looked me in the eyes and said ‘Yes Tator, this morning, she went quick.’ I dropped to my knees and stared up at my bro and dad. I kept shaking my head and praying I would wake up…’This can’t be true, she was completely healthy, she was a survivor of cancer – three different kinds even!!’ My bro picked me up, held me tight…The tears weren’t coming, probably cuz I didn’t believe yet. I said I gotta go, I turned, walked out the house, jumped in my car, sped like a demon out of hell straight to my ma’s house…I stormed in the house, took one look at my Ma and crumbled to the floor…There I was, laying on the floor sobbing uncontrollability…My bro had followed me and walked in before my Ma could get to me. He picked me up again; I grabbed my Ma and clung like she was going to disappear into thin air too. I kept thinking ‘this can’t be happening, I just saw her over Christmas, seriously…no way..call Grump, he’ll tell his Katrina the truth, its some bad joke..’ As I started to dial, Ma wiped my tears and said ‘No baby, she is gone.’ No mama, no mama…Ma held me tight as reality and realization sank in. I felt it in my heart, soul and everything I was that she was gone. She had become my angel that I would only see in my dreams.

I went to college that day, got my homework for the week, and left for the journey to the northern part of MN.  I walked into the house my bro and I spent 2 weeks every summer, learning how to swim…It was the house where I learned how to cook, bake, enjoy a good book on a summer afternoon, how to really listen to my heart and soul, how I learned to write what I truly felt, how to see the beauty in nature…the simple things of a butterfly or a violet in the side garden, the raspberries we would pick by the dozens to make her awesome raspberry pie…or what tiger lilies look like in the morning, in the dead of day and at dusk…As I walked into this house, my Grump looked at me, started crying and stated simply ‘Now you are my only number one girl, Katrina..’ *I was supposed to be named Katrina…Grump is one of the only that calls me by that name* I took a deep breath and melted into the arms of the strongest man I know. I knew in my heart that 2000 was going to be a tough year. Grumps and Grams had been together since ever or so it seemed to me. They’re relationship is what I hope to have some day.

So, I still hadn’t heard what happened or if it was quick or if they knew something was wrong. I slowly stepped back and looked my Grump in the eyes and asked. He began with tears still in his eyes. 2 days previous, Grams was saying she wasn’t feeling well and began running a small fever. They were building a retirement home just a few blocks from their old home. It was the house of their dreams, everything was on the main level, with a beautiful view over an environmental protected pond – ‘The Damm Pond’…So on a trip over to the new house to review the progress, Grams was all wrapped up in full MN winter gear - hat, mittens, scarf, heavy jacket, and boots. She was so exicted over the master bathroom b/c there it was all installed-the 2 person Jacuzzi tub…*They were still very much in love J* So she jumps in, sits down in the tub will all her winter gear on…Proceeds to tell my Grump that they need grab bars so it will make it easier to get out…Always thinking ahead!! Later that night (the night she passed), they went to bed and my Grump slept at her feet to keep her warm but not to catch whatever bug she had…In the early hours of the morning of January 4, she woke my Grump to tell him to call the ambulance. The ambulance arrived and started taking her to the hospital. Grumps put his jacket on over his robe and pjs to follow in the car behind to the hospital. The ambulance only got a few miles away when she went into cardiac arrest. It pulled over to the side of the road so both paramedics could work on her. My Grumps stood on the side of the road, in the lightly falling snow, watching through the little rectangle windows of the ambulance as the love of his life passed on the other side. He knew the minute she left for the better place.

As I listened to him tell me the story, there were tears rolling silently down his face. I realized that my face was wet too. I looked at him and told him that at least she went quick and will always be our angel. She will be able to look over all the family like she always wanted. He smiled at me and told me ‘Katrina, she would be so proud of you right now’. My Grams had survived through 3 different types of cancers with flying colors. She was always positive that she would make it through. So I couldn’t be more at peace for the plain and simple fact that she went quickly and quietly without much pain.  

Although its been 6 years, I don’t make a decision in my life without thinking if it would make her proud. After Christmas in 2000, I had made a huge decision to get out of a very bad relationship. She and I talked in depth on Christmas of that year about what I should do. I never got to tell her that I had gotten out but I knew she knew and was proud of me. I know that it was her faith in me that gave me the strength to get through getting out of a horrible relationship. I know it was her belief in me that gave me the strength to get through college while my bro was dealing with his addiction. I know its her values and morals that make me who I am today.

~Hold tightly to your loved ones, make sure you always say how you feel since none of us ever know when our time will be done. Live each day to the fullest! I never did until she was gone, she always said that to me but I never really believed in it until it was too late to experience it with her. So I am making up for lost time. Make sure to just LIVE!!! Life is too short!! I am grateful for everyone in the blog world for all your support and what you all have taught me about myself in this short time period. I am very happy to have met you all!!!~

Part 2:

He wasn’t the same person I had always taken care of…It definitely wasn’t the bro that giggled with me or raced me home or the bro I had to show where to check his oil when he got his first car…He was somewhere in there tho. I knew it in my heart. I knew I won’t judge him for the choices he made. I knew I was going to support him always and fully. I knew I would never turn my back on him. I knew I would do whatever was asked of me plus some to help him through this battle.

And a battle it was. Still is. We went through it all together. I never left his side. I would go to everything he asked and some he didn’t because he was embarrassed or didn’t know how to ask. See we have always been able to know what the other needed or wanted without saying anything. It was almost like we were twins or something in a previous life.  Even though he has quit doing drugs and got his life back in order…He will always have the cravings to turn to the powders and he fully admits that. As long as he isn’t around it, it’s easy. He has come so far in the last 5 years. He slowly came back around full circle. He got some counseling to deal with his feelings about the divorce and why he wanted to be numb. He got a great job in the construction business and he began to see things in a brighter light even with the bad days.

A few months ago, He became to make some serious changes in his life. He admitted to himself that he has the power to make his dreams into reality!! He decided he was ready to attend college. And this from a kid that barely graduated high school because of his addiction. To make his dream come true would require him to move to warmer climates. GOLF!! Golf was something he has always excelled at and he knows it inside and out. He has been at a golf course since he was old enough to ride his bike down to the course by our house. So we all began to help him make it happen…applications sent out, weekend trips to Arizona to see the school and area, researching apartments. I know during this time I was listening and watching his eyes light up with excitement but on the inside my heart was breaking. Yes I know it is selfish of me to feel that way. Its just I wasn’t going to be within 20 mins from him, just in case either of us needed to talk. Yes there is the phone yet it’s different.

 I made a choice at the start of this adventure for him; I wasn’t going to deal with it until he was gone. Now here I am telling his story. I have never been more proud of him. He has the kind of strength to overcome an addiction without seriously hurting himself or others. I know that he will succeed because this is his dream. He will make it come true!! His strength is something I wish I had more of. His heart of gold, quiet smile, continual faith in his family, dreams and most of all himself are all things that I admire so. He has grown so much and is finally getting comfortable in his own skin.

Although he is gone, I know he’s just a phone call away, email (once he figures it out J), or a flight…I will miss him not being just a quick drive away so he could meet me for dinner or drinks. Yet this is THE best decision he has made with his life in the last 5 years. He continues to surprise me with his dreams and drive to better himself. I am so excited to see what he will do next…Whatever it may be, I am positive it will be awesome!

Good bye until I see you again...until I can see your smile reach your eyes...until we can giggle til our sides hurt...until the next time...

**Thanks bro for being you, sticking by my side through everything, for following your dreams to the fullest! You will do fabulous in your newest adventure!!! You are the best friend I could ever ask for! I love you lots!**