To me… when I was 13…

Whelp… I’ve been tagged… by Rebecca from her “Fictional Reality” blog.   The idea is to write a letter to yourself when you were 13.  This was her post – “Tag! You’re it!“, and is a good read that leaves one wondering… “what exactly happened at her cousin’s wedding anyway??”.  =)… 

It is funny that not too long ago, I wound up writing a post called “If I could go back in time… “.  In that post, I wound up writing about what I would tell myself if I could go back 6 years ago… when I was pregnant with my 2nd son, had a 5 year old son, and was taking care of my dieing father. 

I didn’t plan to write it… it just rolled off…  and the really weird thing is that only a couple days later, I wound up face to face with a pregnant woman – pregnant with her 2nd son, and she has a 4 year old son, and she had just lost her mother.  I wound up in a deep conversation with her, even though we hardly knew each other… and, saying many of the same things to her that I had just written about. 

Anyway – now, I’m faced with writing to my 13 year old self… and I can’t help but wonder if there is some poor 13 year old out there, that is  going thru a similar time that I had, and will suddenly appear after this post and engage me in deep conversation…   ???  Wouldn’t that be something???

Before I begin my letter, I’d like to say that I remember being 13 very well…  and I have my old diary to remind me of just where my mindset was those days.  At that time, I was going thru some major rebellion and learning curves of my own.  I sort of doubt that I would listen to any adult back then too much…  probably not even myself since I’m now “old”.  LOL  But, also true to my nature then and now, I will tell myself what I think should be said, whether the 13 year old me wants to hear it or not!   So, here goes….

Dear Samantha Jane… 
(yes, I know that is not your real name…  and I do not know WHY your mother always called you that…. and it’s even MORE of a mystery as to why 29 years later you would chose it for your blog name?? What’s a “blog”, you ask?  Ohh… never mind!)

I know you don’t think anyone can possibly understand where you are coming from, or how you feel…  but, you should know that if anyone can, I can.  And, all in all, I don’t think you need too many pointers. You actually did a pretty darn good job of surviving your teen years, and you obviously make it thru alive.  Better yet, you make it through with a rather positive outlook on life and a smile on your face. You have a better head on your shoulders than you realize… and all in all, you have a pretty good life.  But, now that I’m 41, I can think of a few things that might have been nice to know when I was your age (13).   So, maybe, jusssssssssssst maybe – you can take some of these pointers into consideration, ok? 

1)  You are not alone.  You might feel like you are…  but, someday, they are going to have this thing called “the Internet”, and you are going to be able to read about all kinds of people whom you can actually relate to and went thru similar situations.  That alone, is sort of comforting to me now… so, I thought if might make you feel better. 

2)  Your parents both love you very much.  Yes, they have their issues with each other and in general.. but, never doubt that they both love YOU.  Not the “you” that you think you need to pretend to be – but the REAL you.  They do.  You may have them fooled on some things… but, if/when they find out the truth (and ummm… they will eventually), guess what?  They still love you.  Believe it.

3) Your brother’s love you too.  Even your oldest brother whom you swear hates you and loves to see you get in trouble.  Yeah, he might be a little jealous of you sometimes, but he truly cares about you so much that he worries about you more than you know.  He would do anything for you… and there winds up being a few times that he actually really helps you out.  Don’t be afraid to talk to him, and know that both of your brother’s always have your back. 

On the other hand, realize that just because your brothers would never hit a girl… there are other guys out there that will.  You might want to think twice before you dump your drink down that jerk’s pants when your 19… even though, he totally deserved it.  But, if you DO decide to do it… then, after you pick yourself up off the floor (after the 2nd time you go down), and the whole bar is holding him back??  – Use a fist when you swing over the little bar-tenders head and hit him (instead of an open hand slap to the head).  Then still take him to court, press charges, and sick your brother’s on him! The nazi-rat-bastard!   

4)  OK – this is a hard one.  About your Mom….  While, yes, she loves you… you should know that she has some bigger issues than just being a religious fanatic.  She has some real mental health issues.  Don’t laugh.  It’s not funny.  I know you joke about it, but don’t really believe this right now.  It’s scary… but, it’s true.  No, she’s not like her mother… but, it is more than just her religious outlooks, or her relationship with Dad.  She’s looses touch with reality sometimes.  I think you’re better off knowing this.  I think everything will be less confusing and scary if you learn a little about it. 

You don’t need to confront her on it… it won’t do any good… and don’t expect Dad to want to talk about it either – because he’s also afraid to believe this.  He’s afraid of what people will think about your whole family if they know.  His silence on these issues is both his being in denial, and because he’s trying to protect you.  But, don’t YOU be afraid anymore.  You are NOT like your mother… and you don’t have these same issues that she has.  Her problems are completely unrelated to you.  However, her problems DO affect you.  Try to learn a little about schizophrenia or mental illness in general… and, know that when she does things, it’s NOT YOUR FAULT.  It’s also not her fault….  but, mostly realize there’s nothing you can do to make her better. 

5)  Matter of fact, you should know that a lot of things are NOT your fault.  You have a tendency to put way too much pressure on yourself.  It’s good to take responsibility for yourself… and your own actions.  But, you need to understand that there are many things that you just have to deal with…  but can not control. Try not to feel so guilty all the time.

6)  Your Dad is not going to Hell.  And either is your brother, or you, or anyone else that you love and worry about.  It is not up to you to save them.  And yes, it is wrong for your mother and other church people to put that kind of expectations and pressure on you.  Don’t let them anymore. Stop worrying – and go with your gut.  When you have questions, ask them.  It’s okay to wonder, doubt, ask, and learn.  The more you learn, the better you’ll feel – and the sooner you’ll feel better.

7)  The world is not black and white.  Everything isn’t either good or bad.  There is plenty of gray area.  Don’t be so quick to think you know the answers.. or that someone else does.  You know? You are very good at putting yourself in someone else’s shoes.  You are easily able to sympathize and empathize with folks.  You seem to naturally want to help people (and animals).  Keep doing that.  The more you do that.. the more gray you see… and that’s a good thing. 

8 ) Also, don’t think you have to have this charade of a split personality.  Both “sides” are ALL YOU – and, the “whole you” is actually pretty special.  Those that really care about you, will appreciate your being honest with them and the “whole” you, way more than only getting the parts of you that you THINK they want to see.

9) And, don’t worry about what other people think about you too much…   Ironically, the more you are yourself… the more confident you are… and the less you try to please everyone else… the more people like you… and the better you’ll feel. 

10)  You’re Dad always tells you that “boys always want what they can’t have, and then once they get it, they don’t want it anymore”.  He’s right.  99% of the time this seems to be the case.. especially for teenage boys.  But, this goes both ways… and if there’s ever a boy that you reeeeeeeeelly think you like soooooo much… and you’re feeling sooo hurt over, think about how this might be applying to you. 

11)  Speaking of boys…  You are right to not have any big desire to get a serious boyfriend any time soon.  Keep learning from your friends mistakes… and being there for them (your friends) when they need you.  Even years later, don’t ever feel pressured into doing something just because you THINK everyone else is doing it… or that you SHOULD want to. If you don’t want to do something, and/or think you’ll regret it.. then, don’t.  

Here’s 2 more things about boys…  1) While it might not seem believable right now… some day, you’ll have more chasing after you than you ever imagined.  Don’t be so afraid of this when it happens.  Have fun.  You don’t have to be serious with any of them if you don’t want to.  Give a few more of them a chance then you do.  because..   2) Someday, when you least expect it, and aren’t looking for it… you WILL meet someone who really loves you and wants to be with you forever.  (and, wait til you see your kids… but, we’ll let that be a surprise.  =)

12)  Your friends mean the world to you right now.. and that doesn’t change.  Don’t ever lose sight of how much you need your friends…  but, do question if someone really IS a friend.  Friendship is a two way street.  You don’t have to follow along with any “friends” that aren’t really looking out for your best interest.  Don’t be so quick to follow…  you can be a great leader when you want to. 

13)  Why don’t you try out for a few more activities?  I know you don’t want to do cheerleading (like your father wants), but, you might like to be on a girls sports team… or maybe even in the Drama club? You know you love to sing.  Don’t NOT do things just to spite anyone… and don’t be so nervous… you can do it! 

14) Think twice about giving up on your piano lessons.  I know it’s hard to learn from mom… but, she really is an excellent pianist… and you COULD play like that someday if you stick with it.  If you don’t… you’ll always regret it. 

15) About Gram and Pa – Visit them, and talk to them, and listen to their stories about your Dad (even though you’ve heard them a million times) every chance you get.  Take in every wrinkle and twinkle in their eyes… 

16) Have fun at concerts..  but, do yourself a favor and don’t chug Jack Daniel’s from a wine sac… 

17) You, are NOT fat.  Some day, you are going to look back at how you look now… and think, “wow!  I was actually pretty good lookin!”.  I know that isn’t going to resonate with you… so maybe at least this advice will.  Please try to understand that there is NOT miracle pill…  or miracle diet…  Save yourself years of yo-yo dieting.  The only way you will ever be thin and healthy is if you eat right… and exercise.  Surprise Surprise. 

18) When you write in your diary…???  Try to write a little bit more about Mom and Dad and Gram and Pa and family events and stuff…  I know it’s easier to write pages and pages about boys and parties and girlfriends… but, trust me on this…

19) Speaking of your Diary…. do you REALLY think Mom isn’t going to read it??  You might want to hide it a little better.. or, leave out a few parts… then again, never mind.  That all plays out for a reason…

and last but not least:

20)  and this is very important…  it could save you YEARS of frustration.  So listen up.  

You, my dear, have naturally wavy hair that has a mind of it’s own.  All the blow-drying, curling irons, and hot rollers in the world will NEVER tame it or enable you to have that feathered back “Farah Faucet hair” that all your friends seem to have.  What you need to do is just brush it once when it’s wet, then put gel in it, scrunch it, and then do NOTHING.  Maybe pick it out a little when it dries and spray it.  That’s it.  Women will tell you for many many years that they would kill for your hair.  It’s one of your only re-deeming features in later years. Try to quit hating it so much and work with it.  =)

Ok – that’s it…  Sorry it was so long and I babbled on and on.  SOME things NEVER change….

~smj

 Now…. if anyone’s interested…  here’s a link to Brad Paisley’s song along these lines – called, “If I could write a letter to me”.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fqtbMHfpXY

 -  oh – and if anyone is still reading this…. consider you yourself tagged!  =)

Blast from the past.. (Feb 82)

So… for shits and giggles.. I pulled out my old diary… I hadn’t looked in there in a long time.   I randomly opened to Feb, 1982…  when I was in my sophmore year of high school and 15 years old.

I wrote:

on 2/7/82

…..Tomorrow I’m gonna be grounded. I’ve got a D in SS and we get our report cards tomorrow. Bummer! Now I’m gonna be grounded for recess.  I’ve got to get my ass in gear. (how many times have I said that?) What worries me more than that are my absents. 7. Dad’s gonna bitch more about that.  Maybe I can change it to a 4.  Mom being home all the time now since she quit working is a real pain in the ass.  I have to listen to her nag first thing when I walk in the door after school.  Plus, she picks through my room.  I’ve been arguing with her a lot lately.  I’m not sure who starts it or what about exactly.  She bugs me though.  In just about everything she does.  I can hardly stand it.  Maybe since she bothers me so much I’m automatically snotty to her.  Sometimes, I think she is looney.  I guess that’s pretty rude to say, but that’s how I feel a lot of the time. Friday night I stayed at Kelsey’s.  Her bf got us some Boone’s Farm wine – Tickled Pink. Yum. We sat in the woods on the bridge and drank it and talked and talked.  She was telling me about her parents and stuff that happened when she was little.  I’ve heard it all before, but I think it’s good to get these things out…

2/8/82

I thought we got report cards today but we didn’t.  I’m so disappointed (sure!). Tonight, Dad was taking some pictures of me with my new camera.  I wanted to send one to M.  Dad said he wanted one of me too because he didn’t have any recent ones.  I liked modeling, kind of.  I did my hair and makeup.  It was fun.  Until Mom started acting all weird.  She tryed telling me he was trying to take dirty pictures of me… or “cheesecake” pictures as she called them?!?  I couldn’t believe her.  I don’t know how she can serioulsy believe or say that! It really upsets me.  She says she doesn’t trust him.  Then, when I said, “well, I do” – she gets mad and starts throwing that shit at me about him making my brothers and me think against her. THAT I really hate!! If I have any bad thoughts about her, they got there by themselves.  Dad wouldn’t think of exploiting me or anything.  As if! I mean come on! I’m sure!! The thought of it makes me sick! I know Dad was pissed too.  K wasn’t in school again today. Ths time she really was sick, I think. I see H in the halls.  Usually with her bf.  What an ASS.  Well better go.

2/9/82

Howdy. Today was ok, in spite of the fact that I got grounded.  Dad only yelled at me for about 10 minutes or so.  He didn’t see my report card until about 9:00 when I got home from babysitting.  He would have yelled more if I hadn’t changed my absences. I changed an 8 to a 5.  I used my nail file to scrape over it, then I filled over what I wanted to stay there again.  It worked great. Mom didn’t even look.  She didn’t say much of anything.  Maybe Dad will let me off for Recess.  I’m not counting on it. I stayed after school in Industrial Arts.  I wanted to. I get so much more done then I do in class.  I hope I can at least get an A in that.  But, I hear he grades harsh.  I don’t think I’ll mind being grounded for vacation all that much.  I haven’t been going anywhere’s a lot lately anyway. Besides, I’ll want to sleep in on vacation anyways…

 ==========

 And so went my teen life…

It’ s funny… I remember the picture incident vividly.  I was really confused when I realized what my mom was implying.. and then shocked and disgusted.  I have the pics from that day..  I am wearing a blouse… buttoned up to my chin practically… but with my hair all done nice, and make up on.  I was trying to look pretty because I wanted to send a picture to my boyfriend who lived an hour away from us.  But, I certainly would never try to look sexy with my Dad taking pics…  gross.  Still makes me mad thinking about how my mom made me feel that night…  dirty or something.  When I had done nothing wrong.

I did get a couple decent pictures out of it though…  I even ended up getting one with my brother… and one with my mother… and had my mom take one of me and my Dad.  I actually love those pics… but, it’s bittersweet because of the other part of the memory that goes with it. 

 ~smj

My Dad – Con’t (not an atheist saint after-all)

Ok – So, when I looked back at my last post… I realized I left out a few things about my Dad. I did mention a lot of  really good things about him… and whille yes – I really really loved and respected my father a lot, I failed to mention that he wasn’t’ a saint.
(As IF an atheist could be a Saint, right?!)

So, yes..  my dad certainly wasn’t perfect.  He was a tough old goat, really,  He was pretty strict… and fairly controlling. He was the boss. You know the old “When I say JUMP! You say, How high?!” mentality.  He was very stubborn, old fashioned, and he also had double standards when it came to my brother’s and I – which was a pretty sore subject with me.

I was the youngest and the only girl… and spent a good deal of time trying to keep up with my brothers and prove I could do anything they could do.  I felt like I had a double whammy of chauvinism from my parents. I even use to call my Mom a “male chauvinist pig”.  Not only was my dad very over-protective of me and telling me I couldn’t do things because I was a girl – but, my mother agreed. She thought the wife should be subservient to the husband. Even though she thought my Dad was the devil himself, and bad mouthed him constantly, she still believed she needed to let him be “the boss”, and ultimately that she should “obey”.

The churches we attended reinforced this mentality. When I was teen, we were going to a church where all the women wore these doily things on their heads – especially for prayer time. It was to symbolize that they recognized that they needed something between them and God – something to do with the original sin of Eve. The men didn’t need to wear them. You can imagine how well this went over with a teenage girl who was trying to prove she was just as good as her brothers. I refused to wear one.  Because I was not yet a “woman” – the church didn’t make a big deal out of it. 

My mom did all the housework… well, she and *I* did all the housework. My brother’s never had to learn how to cook or clean. On the same token, I never learned how to start a lawn mower until I was an adult with my own home either.

Every Saturday when we were kids, I had to clean the house with my mom… help prepare the meals… do laundry. While my brothers got to go outside and help in the yard. This didn’t seem fair to me at all. I would have much preferred to have been outside in the sunshine picking up sticks and playing on the riding lawn mower.

By 11 years old, I had to do all my own laundry and ironing…. Start dinner every day after school. My brothers had no clue how do those things and weren’t expected to. Every once in a while, I got even by making them pay me to iron one of their shirts if my mother wasn’t around.

My mother also thought everything was bad… or evil… so, she didn’t like me to do much of anything except go to church. My Dad didn’t care if I went to church or not, but he was very overprotective and strict with me. He wanted to know where I was all the time and I was not allowed to do things that he let my brothers do when they were my age.  Again, this didn’t go over well with me.  I had no intention or desire to be the “perfect little girl”.   I wanted to be one of the boys, dammit! 

When I asked why, or complained… I was told – from my mother, “This is what women do. Get used to it”. And from my father, “because you’re a girl. It’s just different. Some day you’ll understand”. 

Yeah- ummm…  I’m still waiting for that day to come…

So, I complained… a lot. I could get away with arguing with my Dad. He didn’t like it… and he didn’t usually give in… but, he also would tolerate my hormonal outbursts. He would never hit me… because I was a girl, of course. He would, however, whack my brothers if they talked back. At last.. an advantage to being a girl!

So, I learned the rules and played the game…
and I learned how to cheat at the game.

I quickly figured out (with a little help from my one brother), that it was easier to lie in order to do what I wanted – than it was to reason with my parents.  So, I hit a point where I didn’t even argue or ask to do things I knew they wouldn’t want me to do. I just did them behind their back… and then some.

I became quite rebellious in a very sneaky way. I was quite the good liar… and thought nothing of lying to my parents.. or anyone in authority really. I thought it was the only way to survive… and, I was pretty good at it too. I could come up with an excuse on the spot, and make anyone believe just about anything. 

By the ripe old age of 11 or so, I was well into my “double life”. I skipped school… a lot… and, went in late to school all the time… I forged notes and report cards… I cheated on tests and homework. I jumped out my window… lied and said I was babysitting when I wasn’t so that I could stay out late.. or I stayed overnight at my friend’s homes whenever I wanted to do something I knew my parents wouldn’t let me do…. I went to rock concerts and drank… and partied…. All unbeknownst to my parents.

My parents had no clue. They thought I was some perfect little angel. And it wasn’t easy keeping up the charade and not getting caught. I was always covering my tracks.  Anticipating what could possibly go wrong… 

I also continued to go to church with my mom and one brother, 1-4 times a week.  Every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and sometimes Saturday night. (Hell, most of those church kids were the biggest partiers of all!!!)

My friend’s parents, and neighbors, church leaders, and school teachers all liked me… because in front of them, I was well behaved and quiet. I did all my make up work for school, and I got good grades. So,  most grown ups didn’t pay much notice to my missing from class half the time or whatever.  I hid my bloodshot eyes (Visine was a staple)… and, I didn’t get caught (much), or get in trouble (much).  And the few times I did get caught – I lied lied lied so that I didn’t get caught compeltely. (“Yes yes!  I swear to God it’s the first time I ever jumped out my window, Dad!” – when I finally got caught after 2 years of hiding that darn ladder. LOL). 

I always pushed the limits… but, I really didn’t go THAT far. Well, I suppose that is a relative statement. I mean, I wasn’t as bad as a lot of other kids I knew. I never failed a class… or hurt anyone. I never ran away or got myself in too much of a bind. (Again, I realize that is a relative statement!).   I was weary of strangers and didn’t trust people so was always on the look out and protective of my friends.  I was the one suggesting we do something stupid.. but, them making sure nobody got hurt in the process.  LOL

I tried a lot of things…. including drinking and smoking pot.. and a few various other drugs… but, I was always afraid to get addicted to anything… or NEED to do drugs to have fun… or have a bad experience. I always kept myself in check.

I also wasn’t screwing around with boys.  One of my best friends got pregnant and had an abortion when we were 14 yrs old.  That blew me away.  And, a different friend went from one jerky boyfriend to the next… and, I learned from their mistakes. I also was afraid my mother and father would kill me… but, mostly, I just didn’t want to be hurt or anyone’s fool.

Sure, I had lots of crushes on boys, and I had a couple not-so-serious boyfriends.. but, when my mother found and read my diary when I was 17.   I sure was glad I hadn’t had sex yet. Not that it mattered to her – she acted like I had done the whole football team and was the biggest drug addict in town. I wrote about that in my “Sometimes you just gotta laugh” post (http://savemenot.wordpress.com/2007/03/12/quick-laugh-because-sometimes-you-just-have-to-laugh/ ).

Am I blaming my Dad (or my Mom for that matter) for my being so rebellious and sneaky when I was a kid? I dunno?? Maybe a little. Ok, yeah.. I am. They MADE me that way! LOL But, maybe part of it was just in my nature too.. and I might have been like that anyway. Who knows?

My Dad and I talked about things a lot when I was an adult. For the most part – we laughed our asses off remembering funny stories from my childhood. But we talked about the difficult times and arguments we had too. I think he regretted some of the things he’d done and said… but, he wasn’t one to apologize much.

I figure, he did the best he could with what he knew… and I know he was they way he was with me because he loved me so much. There were quite a few times when I was really mad at him for not letting me do something… and then, I realized he was right. Teenage guys are jerks. LOL All in all – like my first “Dad” post said, I’m very thankful he was my dad and was the way he was.

So – there you have another big chunk of why I am the way I am… whatever way that is.

=)
smj

Sometimes you just gotta laugh… (Mom reads my Diary)

So, when I was 17… I came home one day to find my diary on my bed.  Not burried in my closet where I left it… but, on my bed.  Worse yet, there was a long letter in it, written TO me, from my mother. 

YIKES!  Can you say, Panic??

I had kept this diary since I was about 11.  It had EVERYTHING in it.  I would write pages sometimes, and it was in a big 3 ring binder.  I later learned that it took my mom a week to read it… before letting on she had found it. 

 Now…  can I blame my mom for reading it?  Not according to her.  She said, I must have wanted her to.  But, the fact that I had it hidden in the deepest darkets corner of my closet didn’t seem to say that to me!?

The weeks immediatly following were a big turning point in my life.  It was when I finally had the guts to break out from my double image of a life…  but, not until going thru a bit of hell first. 

There were some pretty trying times…

First of all, I woke up in the middle of almost every night for several weeks, to find my mother praying over me in tongues, and anointing my forhead with oil (vegetable oil to be exact, and she’d be painting a cross of it on my forehead)…  accusing me of all kinds of outlandish things.  I was a nervous wreck for a while… couldn’t sleep… couldn’t eat… lost a lot of weight (the one GOOD thing!).

Yes,  mom had read my diary and found out I had lied, and had sneaked out my window, that I had been drinking a little, and heaven forbid – that I secretly did NOT like going to church anymore but was going because I felt like I HAD to. 

Really, there wasn’t anything that bad in my diary… I hadn’t even had sex yet…   but, you would’ve thought she read that I was in a Satan-worshiping-sex-and-drugs-cult or something.  ?? She wanted me  to go to the pastor with her and to repent, ask forgiveness, “drop all my worldly friends”, and basically admit I was the biggest f!#@-up on earth. 

For once, I stood up to her.  

I refused. 

The biggest thing that helped me to do this, was the “dropping my friends” part.  No way.  She called me a hypocrite, and I told her she was right… and that I HAD been going to church only for her sake and that I should not be going, and so… I wasn’t go to go anymore.   And, with that she…  well?… can you say “freaked out”?

She didn’t believe anything I said… and the fact that I got good grades, and didn’t get in trouble didn’t matter.  Yup -  my mom went on a mission to “save me” from my heathen friends, the brainwashing of my father, and all my sinful worldly ways.  

Ahhhh… well… 
Sometimes… you do have to laugh.  Here’s a good example of a such a time:

Ok – So, right around this time, I came home one day, and my Dad was sitting there, all serious… holding a little copper mug, and a little test-tube water bottle. 

I was scared.  Uh oh.  What had mom told him?  What was happening now??  She told me she wasn’t GOING to tell him anything she read in my diary, because she said “he couldn’t help me”.  So, I was confused for a moment…  what was up?

Dad said to me, “Do you know what this is?” in a very stern and serious voice -as he showed me the mug and test tube…

I said,  “yes“
…. feeling relieved a little because this was something he DID know about… sort of… and it wasn’t anything bad. 

 ”Well? what is it for??”, he demanded… “your mother found it in the basement.”
His tone was accusing… as if he had caught me red-handed at something really bad. 

Me: “Well… Remember when I “found” that hamster than I wanted to keep years ago when I was like 12, and you wouldn’t let me keep it?”

Dad: “yes??”

Me: “well?  remember, I told you that I hid it for a while under my nightstand and nobody ever knew? But then I finally gave it away… and you never knew about it until I told you about it years later??”…

Dad, looking a little more relaxed and a little confused himself now, “yes…?”

Me: “well, THAT was the little cup that I had in his home…  and the tube was part of his little water bottle.  See?  there’s still a piece of litter stuck in the cup.  I must’ve hid them in the rafters years ago after I gave him away”. 

I was still confused.  But, my father began laughing uncontrollably.  And, teasingly calling out to my mom  – who was lurking around the corner, eaves-dropping.  He asked her to come and  tell me what she had told him. 

My mom was not amused.  She had that glazed over crazy look in her eyes.  Her eyes darting back and forth.  I knew immediately she thought we must be ganging up on her.  She woulnd’t answer him and stood there looking like she was going to explode. 

My father didn’t care.  He was relieved… and laughing still…
and between laughs, he said,
“your mother told me she found this in the rafters in the basement, and that it belonged to one of you kids… and that it was for smoking some kind of dope.  She thought, you put stuff in the tube, heated it in the cup, and inhaled it when it came out the tube thing”.

With that, I also began laughing… hard.

 And, my mother did lose it.  She screamed at us, “Well, how was *I* suppose to know that!?!?!”

It never dawned on her that, perhaps, she could’ve asked before making up such a crazy thing.  I wondered how many people she had already told.  Then, I didn’t care.

 This was around the time I decided that I just didn’t care what she thought anymore or what the rest of the church thought either… of course, deep down, I did care… but, I began telling myself at that point that I didn’t… that I shouldn’t… and I tried real hard not to. 

For months I came home, wondering if she had told my Dad anything, and if so, WHAT she would tell him.  I was very bervous.  Eventually,  I realized that even if she DID tell him anything “bad” I did – that he would have to take my side.  He knew she made up things, I know he did.  I also figured he couldn’t ground me for something my friends did, or something I had done YEARS earlier.  So, eventually, I got over it…  and stopped worrying about it. 

 Years later, I told my Dad about what happened when she read my diary.  He was mad that I never told him when it was gonig on.  He said he would have “made her stop:.  

Hindsight…

====
 A few other pretty funny things my mom accused me of?

•  snorting the butane refills that were for my cordless curling iron… (she kept stealing them from me and throwing them out).
• being bulimic
  (I had lost weight… but, it was because she turned me into a nervous wreck and she made me feel sick all the time and I couldn’t eat much, not because I was bulemic.  I absolutely hate throwing up.)
• going to meet my “connection” -
  when I had no idea what one was.  She obviously thought I was a drug addict, and I would have to show her receipts of clothes I bought for the prom to prove I hadn’t been buying drugs.  Usually this was in the middle of the night… when I could barely think.
• being a whore that would never be satisfied by the touch of a man until I repented and became a child of God again. 

Okay – that last one wasn’t so funny…  especially since I had never even had sex when she said it.

So, maybe not so funny… but, still… ya gotta laugh…. at least I had to… and still do.  What are my other options? 

~smj