We grow up reading books, watching movies, and playing games all about someone rescuing someone else. I just finished reading an article on MSN about a 12-year old boy who got lost in the ocean and was rescued by another 12-year old, then got lost again and rescued this time by volunteer water rescuers. I’ve always wanted to be that hero, so to speak, as evidenced by my love for those types of books and action movies. In fact, when I was in school I used to have over-dramatic daydreams about being this secret agent that would save the whole school from a terrorist attack. In reality, I’d be the least suited person to do such a thing. I’m one of those people who’d be the first to run away. I don’t have the courage to stand and fight…and even if I did, I’d be defeated so readily it’d be better if I’d run away and called the police. So much for being a hero. Maybe I’ll be a hero to some greyhounds instead.
I was hit by a moment of sadness yesterday. All my defenses fell. It’s taxing to always have to keep myself guarded like that. Nowadays it’s not imperative for everyday living, but in order to operate without succumbing to depression I have to keep my feelings pushed down. This gets in the way of relationships with other people, but I feel that I have to still. Scars run deep, and for a personality like mine, I can’t forget. I was thinking more recently as we get closer to closing our own house and the beach vacation, and it’s a wonder what we used to live through. Essentially being held captive in our own house and our own life. Always afraid of that upcoming outburst. No one ever wanting to come home. We don’t have to worry about that anymore. No one yells at us anymore. There’s no shadow hanging over us.
At the same time, I still keep up that guard. That pain and those memories deep inside me tends to come up again if my defenses are relaxed a little. Even if we’re not in that same position, we’re still not free on our own. My grandpa is not like my dad at all, but he retains some of the same characteristics. Quick to blame, prideful, he’s never wrong. However he doesn’t have that overbearing presence of absolute authority. He’s not my dad and I’d prefer my grandpa definitely. He actually shows some rational thought. He will actually consider what you say. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t stomp around, make himself known. He doesn’t pick fights with people in the street.I think I’m now oversensitive the the negative traits my dad exhibited. I oppose those sentiments to the maximum. They make me unbelievably angry.
Even with all of that, though, I’m so glad that we are where we are now. There’s an overall sense of peace when I walk through the door here. The feeling that I can actually relax, and not have to prepare for a battle at any moment. I can actually feel safe. My mom and brother have forgotten how things were like. We’ve locked away those memories. My mom said yesterday that she can’t even remember how it felt like to be married. For the most part, I don’t think about it, but like the past week when I think I can finally full-body and mind relax, I find that I can’t. I still have to keep that barrier up. Our new house is awesome and very highly anticipated, but it doesn’t mean total relaxation either. My mom’s name goes public records, and you can bet that my dad will be searching. We just know that he will show up one of these days, which is partially the reason why we’re keen on getting a dog sooner rather than later. Even as ineffective as a greyhound, the mere presence of a dog makes us feel better.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAnd there’s my self-therapy. Hopefully by getting that off my chest, I’ll feel better.
Just one more week til the beach!!!!!!! And then………………………….HOUSE. And working full time. haha. Did I mention that I went to Toys’R’Us yesterday? I was all awkward and embarrassing (of course) when I was caught off-guard by 2 of the managers I worked with. They tried to get me to work with them again part-time for Christmas. Haha. I said I’d come visit. They’re so nice. I really did enjoy working there…not enough to want to work there again, but good times.