L is for Long Time Ago

Almost two years ago I wrote a letter to my sister that I just couldn't send. I was doing a lot of that at the time. Writing and filing away letters. It was before my blog, before anything, and it was my coping method. It worked to calm me down, I guess, but it didn't really do much more. It didn't help me do anything BUT calm down. This blog has done a lot more for me, getting comments, and also responses privately, that have given me great advice.

I have a lot of those old letters sitting around. Not long after I wrote those, I discovered Accentuate Writers Forum ( <3 ) and through that, Unsent Letters. You'll see the link to it sitting over in my blogroll. I don't know if you've checked it out, but you should. It's a whole collection of exactly what my coping method was. Letters that weren't sent.

I submitted a letter that I had written to Amanda, but I changed the names. I never heard back about my submission, and assumed it was rejected. I know Unsent Letters as a whole, had been put on the back burner for a while, because the woman who runs it had bitten off more than she could chew with it. She also runs the writers forum, and Twin Trinity Media which was putting out a few other books, and a few blogs of her own, and has a family and has numerous health issues, and I think I'm forgetting a few hundred other things she does. How she manages to do even half of that, I don't know. So Unsent Letters got put on the back of the pile, and I knew that, but I thought my story had been read before that.

I just received an email a few days ago from them saying what amounted to "do you still want us to consider this letter, after it's been so long?" and I didn't know what to say. In the past, I think I actually casually mentioned that I didn't want my letter read, if it hadn't been already. I had said that because I couldn't remember what I had written. I knew vaguely what it was about, but I have at least 6 letters to Amanda written in that same approximate time frame, all holding different details. Which was the one that I had sent in? Was it one that someone outside the family, who didn't know any of it would understand? Was it one someone could relate to?

So when I got that email, it was like little gift. Apparently my "please disregard" was forgotten and I had a new shot at reading it. I opened it, scared. And I read it. And I started crying, because even thought I remember writing it (or ones like it), I had forgotten how much I felt at the time.

I told her that I would love to have my letter considered still. It's exactly what it needs to be. If it's not accepted, I'm alright with that. But I'm also really glad I wrote it, that the letter was saved and set aside. It's a very important letter to me, reminding me of where I was two years ago.

I regret changing the names to fake ones. I used "Amy" and "Laura" instead of "Amanda" and "Lauren". The names are close, but they just.... I dunno. I want the letter to have our names on it. I didn't even sign my name. I just signed it "E."

The letter sis more than just remind me of what I felt, but it made me more aware of who and where I am now, and how little has changed, even though it feels like so much has. My worries haven't changed much. My feelings about the situations even less. But then, some things have changed. I'm not so spineless and I'm a lot more independant. I think I've grown up a lot since I wrote that letter (which is funny, because at the time, I felt like I was more-or-less done growing up. I didn't realize I was so naive until I read that letter. And I'm sure two years from now I'll have this realization again, and yet I still feel so much LESS naive than some of the people I see walking around. It's strange to me, how I have always felt so much more aware of things than other people, and yet never aware enough.)

Write. Every day. and save it. Because someday, a few years from now, it'll really make a point to you. And I think this will happen to me for the rest of my life.

Explosion.

Last night, at around 8:30, I started to a blog post about my mom. I'm really getting sick of her on/off drinking. I'm tired of knowing she downed a half liter bottle in one day, and then watching her hands shake all the next day.  I'm tired of knowing that the colds she keeps getting, causing her to spend the day sleeping, are actually hangovers. I want to do something about it. Talking to her didn't work last time I tried. I don't know of another way of doing it, without uprooting my family.

Right now though, it doesn't matter anymore, what the right thing to do is. Right now, I'm too hurt to even think about doing anything. I just want to cry. I'm hoping that sharing will help. There was a huge fight last night, and the only way that I think I can feel better is to type out the whole thing bit by bit.


I wake up at 5am to go to work, so I try to get in bed by 10. Last night, dinner was late (9) and I went immediately from dinner to showering. I planned to go straight to bed after. When I got out of the shower, though, my sister said my mom was looking to talk to all three of us at the same time.


She started SCREAMING at us, all three of us, for not unloading the dishwasher. I was annoyed. I hate being yelled at. I told her, as politely as I could, that in the future, she can tell us without yelling. Turns out, there isn't really a polite way to say that.


She didn't let any of us get up to do the dishwasher, even though her open floor plan would have allowed for someone to do the dishwasher, while being yelled at. She turned to Amanda and went off on her too. Manda had just been on vacation for 3 weeks, and had forgotten that she had a new once-a-week chore. She was only told about this chore a few days before she left. She hadn't even had a chance to do it for the first time.


My mom yelled at Amanda for a few minutes, and poor Manda had no idea what my mom was yelling at her about. She didn't remember at all what her chore was. And my mom kept making her guess what she was supposed to be doing. Eventually I blurted it out, and my mom flipped out on me again.

She kept switching back and forth, from yelling at me to yelling at Manda. After a few minutes of back and forth, Manda said something that broke my heart. "I should have just jumped off the roof that day. I should have just killed myself when I had the chance." I remember that day. I was in Virginia still, but my mom called me to tell me what was going on. It terrified me then, but hearing it come from Manda's own mouth was worse.

And they started arguing more, but I couldn't handle it any more. I started screaming, that I couldn't do it. That I couldn't listen to them argue like this. My mom said "This is hte only way we can fix this! We have to have this argument!" and I told her that I couldn't. I could handle the chore argument. I couldn't handle listening to her screech at my sister, and really really couldn't handle listening to my sister half-threaten suicide. When I started yelling, Lauren burst into tears too. Now all four of us were crying.

I walked off, and my mom told me that if I left, I wasn't coming back, and I would have to move out. I changed my mind mid-step, but kept walking, turning towards the bathroom to blow my nose, which was running because I was crying.

I spent as much time as I could blowing my nose, and blowing as loud as I could to drown them out.

I stopped blowing just in time to hear Manda say "I hate it here. I hate everyone in this family. I never have felt like I belonged. None of you like me."

And somehow, even though I was angry at my mother, I started shouting at my sister. I love her. She didn't seem to get that. Instead she mentioned something that a non-family member had said to her, about how she was going to ruin everyone she came in contact with.

No matter what I said, it didn't matter. She repeated herself several times about how we all hated her, and how it was our fault that she hated herself. I kept repeating myself too. "What about me? Don't you know I don't hate you? I love you, Manda." It didn't seem to do any good.

Meanwhile, my mom was still yelling, yelling over us, and ignoring the fact that this was happening. She kept yelling at Manda about her chores. I interrupted again, just about as loud as I could, which wasn't very loud because my throat was hurting already from crying. "This is why I can't listen to you two argue. Do you hear what Manda is saying? Do you hear what you're saying? I can't do this!"

And then I apologized to Manda, because I really was sorry. I had never ever meant to let her feel that way. I wish I had known a long time ago that she felt that way, and I can't help but blame myself. I went over to give manda a hug with my apology. She pushed me away and wouldn't even look at me.

I tried to redeem myself. Instead of running away from it, like I wanted to, I stayed. I stood up for them. But it was too little, too late. And then when my mom finally let us go, I emptied the dishwasher, and had to go to bed. I couldn't even stay up to make my sisters feel better. Manda was still crying when I went to bed.

And now my mother is giving all of us the silent treatment, which just really PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF! I can understand her giving it to me. After I apologized to Manda, I tore my mother a new one. But Manda and Lauren, I just don't understand. Lauren didn't even do anything. Manda got angry with her, but Manda is just a kid. Was she out of line? Yes. Both of them were. Is this a good way for my mother to handle it? No, not at all.

As I was writing this, Manda messaged me and told me she thinks my mom is drinking. I already know she is, and so does Lauren. My sisters and I are going to have a talk all together soon to figure out what to do. I want to call DCF/DSS/whatever, and get them out of here. But I know that when I was there age, I would have hated if anyone did that to me. So I want to know what they want. I'm moving out soon anyways, so all that matters to me is that they are okay once I leave. And I want them to know that I will ALWAYS be there for them. That I love them.

This is NOT a good situation.

Mall Parents, a letter

Dear Mall Mothers and Fathers,
I have been told that I have no right to judge parents, because I am not a parent myself. But I do. I can’t help it. Some of the things I see you do seem so wrong to me. I’ve seen actions that make me want to throw things at you. I’ve overheard conversations that make my stomach turn. Maybe it’s not my place, and not my right, to tell you that you’re wrong. But I’m going to anyways, even if you never see it.

When your small child drops a single french fry, screaming at them and smacking them isn’t acceptable behavior. That’s a huge overreaction. It was ONE french fry. If you react that strongly over something so small, I’d hate to see what you do when they do something seriously wrong. If you are that crazy in public, I’d hate to see how you act in private.

When your 15 year old daughter buys a phone, you should not smash it, just because you don’t like the ring tone. I know that ring tone. It was the default tone. And from the shouting match that followed, I am even more certain you were being unreasonable. Your young teenage daughter pays you rent, buys her own food, buys her own clothes, and pays her own phone bill. She saved up for apparently 3 months to buy that phone. I was on her side when she demanded you buy her a new one. But you called her greedy, got up, and walked away from her. No, She shouldn't have yelled at you. You are the parent, and that's really disrespectful. But I think I know where she learned that from....

When you are in the mall, you need to keep an eye on your toddler. It should nto be up to a stranger to save your child from walking into a busy parking lot. And when someone DOES stop your child from walking in front of a car, you shouldn’t yell at the ‘rescuer’ because it’s “inappropriate” to touch other peoples children.

When your son is walking calmly by your side, on his kid-leash, you shouldn’t suddenly
grab the leash close to him and yank. He will fall down. And when he does fall, and when he starts crying, you shouldn’t laugh and say to your friend “I love this thing!” You just HURT your CHILD who wasn’t doing anything WRONG. And you are LAUGHING about it? I almost thought I had imagined it.

You shouldn’t insult your child by calling them fat and a cow, and a slob, and then buy them ice cream to ‘cheer them up’ when they start crying. That isn’t how things work.

You shouldn’t scream at your newborn to “shut the fuck up” when they cry. I know that sometimes it’s tough, when you haven’t gotten much sleep. But if you haven’t slept, why are you at the mall anyways? There isn’t anything that needs buying here. Just clothes. I can’t imagine a situation where clothing takes priority over sleep. Maybe I am being unreasonable on this one. I’ll admit that.

And then today’s event. Your daughter, looked to be about 3 or 4, was happy. Twirling around, giggling. And I looked up at you, parent, and smiled. She was adorable. For once, I was proud of a mall-family.

Up until the point where you came over to my table and threatened to call security over because I was being threatening and creepy. Up until you pulled your daughter aside, pointed to me and told her that I was the reason she shouldn’t talk to strangers.

Don’t get me wrong, I think that’s a great thing to teach your kids. But to personally target me as the “threatening stranger” because your daughter happen to dance directly in my line of sight? That’s ridiculous, and also insulting. If you don’t want people to acknowledge your daughters existence, don’t bring her out of the house.

Signed, Boat
The non-parent who is concerned for your children.

Hot Coffee

Sometimes, I want coffee, but it burns my lips, so I’m afraid to take another sip. By the time I get around to it, it's too cold to drink, and I'm a little disappointed. I can't help but wonder how good that coffee would have been.

Life is like that sometimes. You want something, you have it, but you pull away, a bit scared of getting hurt. I just want to remind you, whoever reads this, not to be afraid. Drink your hot coffee, ask that wonderful guy you know out, publish your book. Do it. Whatever 'it' is.
Photo Credit: I honestly have no idea where this came from. I found it hidden on my computer and thought it fit well. If the photo belongs to you or your company, let me know and I will do what you tell me to do with it.....