‘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… 

**I seem to run across interesting thoughts from time to time...whether its someone else's words or thoughts, I usually want to share just because...**

Our thoughts contain tremendous powers. Remember, we draw into our lives that which we constantly think about. If we're always dwelling on the negative, we will attract negative people, experiences, and attitudes. If we're always dwelling on our fears, we will draw in more fear. You are setting the direction of your life with your thoughts. The choice is yours. You don't have to dwell on every thought that comes to your mind.

   Negative thoughts assail you; Your never going to get out of debt. You're never going to be successful. You're always going to live in poverty and lack. Don't be passive, sitting back and allowing negative, critical, pessimistic thoughts to influence your life. Learn to dwell on the good; reprogram your thinking. If you can control your thoughts and transform your way of thinking you will ultimately transform your life.

  So much of the negativity in our lives comes from a past experience or experiences. Learn to let them go. You need to rid your mind of all that past bitterness, resentment, and other contaminants. Forgiveness is the key to being free from toxic bitterness. Forgive people who hurt you. Forgive the boss who did you wrong. Forgive the friend who betrayed you. Forgive the parent who mistreated you when you were younger. Get rid of all that poison. Don't allow that poison to remain inside and continue to grow through time. It's time to move on. To live again. Start fresh. Your never going to move forward in life walking backwards. Your never going to be able to love with anger and pain still in your mind and in your heart.
    
       Understand your not alone. Most all have been through much of the same but you can make your life different than there's. You can't change the past but you can change your future. So let the past go. You've grown from all these past experiences making you a wiser and more aware person of how life can work. The goods and the bads. It's a crazy world we have to live in, full of obstacles. It's our job just to try and manage to maneuver through these in the best and easiest way possible. Life is merely a game of dodgeball. Those terrible mishaps never stop coming but just get out of there way. When you get hit, shake it off, don't let it ponder or infiltrate your mind, let it go and move on. No one in this world is free of pain, hurt, and negative experiences. Some of us just know how to manage them better.

**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…