Blog: Confessions of a Commitment-Phobe
by sarafina

In the Beginning

Life with my parents...

Date:   10/3/2007 8:42:00 PM   ( 17 y ) ... viewed 1494 times

My Mom and Dad divorced when I was 5. My father, who is quite passive in nature, remarried a woman who is rather pushy and domineering in nature. She had a daughter of her own from a previous relationship and there is also my younger brother - me being the oldest, my stepsister in the middle and my brother was the youngest. My mother remarried a man who was all hippy. They partied a lot and they argued even more. There was no violence but, man, was there screaming. He was a small-time drug dealer, just pot and just to his friends he worked with, but the "party" lifestyle was always around. Pot was about as normal as cigarettes around our house, and our mother had custody of us so that's where we spent most of our time only visiting my dad's on the weekends. I liked it better at my Mom's house, we pretty much got to do what we wanted and it was fun. My dad is much more reserved and his wife Margie was also; grades, good jobs, financial security and stability were the marks of a happy life to them whereas my Mom and Danny (stepdad) were all about fun and irresponsibility - sometimes the utilities got shut off, but hey, we always got by. It came out in my highschool years, Margie made a point of telling me, that my parents were divorced because my mom had cheated on my dad. Not just your basic "cheat" either... she had cheated with her own father, of her own free will at a "should've known better" age of 20-something. He had left her when she was just a baby and she had never even met him. Somehow, her ideas of a father-figure had translated into sexual closeness. I was disgusted and appalled and lost a lot of respect for my Mom. I also hated Margie for telling me, not only was it NOT my business but it was not anything I ever needed to know about my Mom.

My stepdad, Danny, was my savior. I loved him probably more than my own dad. I should say that as we were growing up, my stepsister Becky got the best of everything while my brother and I seemed to get much less. I resented my dad for letting us be pushed out of the picture like that. When I was in 7th grade my grades were so awful that my dad asked my mom if he could keep us for the school year, my grades improved drastically with Margie standing over me night after night making sure I got everything done, and done right.

This resulted in a custody battle at the end of that time and it was ugly. Dad and Margie called in psychologists, teachers, etc to attest to the fact that Mom and Danny were unfit parents, they dragged their drug use into the open and publicly embarrassed all of us. In the end, the judge asked us who we'd rather live with and my brother and I both said our mother.

The custody battle was so hard on my Mom and being the type of overly emotional person that she is, she sunk herself into christianity. She never stopped the drug use but became frighteningly fanatic about church. We listened for hours to endless passages from the bible, we attended church 3 times a week without fail and were NOT allowed to complain or there would be screaming and fighting. By this time I was in high school, coming to a point where I wanted to express my individuality and Mom was most seriously cramping my style. I started wearing all black to church to express my dissent. The church-folk responded with pretty harsh judgment. I was told that I was a bad influence on the rest of the youth group and I think they probably judged my mom as well. I really, really hated it there and won't step foot inside a church to this day, probably not even when I finally get married.

My Mom and I fought like cats and dogs all the way thru high school, she screamed, I yelled, she threw things, I threw things back, I tried to run away from home, she slapped me across the face. I was 17 and things were escalating pretty badly. At this time, My senior year, was when I started trying out things like boys and drugs and drinking and partying. Which leads me to my next section.... Persephone's house.

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Blog Entries (4 of 4):
not for the easily offended  17 y
Persephone's House  17 y
In the Beginning  17 y
Preface  17 y

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