So, it's been a weird month for me. I had some childhood stuff rear its ugly head through a trigger I didn't even know existed. It manifested in a few weeks of bulimia and smoking, a lot of feeling miserable, one long and involved unaired blog post, and a few very honest conversations with various family members. I've kicked the bulimia (for now), haven't quite managed to give up the smokes, but have started some positive behaviours by attending a boot camp twice a week and running a couple of times a week with a friend or by myself (with Dude in the pushchair of course).
As part of my attempt at a fresh start, I attempted a conversation with another family member that has been estranged for a while. Bad idea. See, I'm an asshole.
So let me just put this out there. I embrace the asshole-dom. Pretty much every bad thing I had to live through in my life came from people not having the difficult conversations. It wasn't "their business" to talk about it, or they didn't know about it in the first place because NOBODY TALKS ABOUT THE BAD STUFF. So I talk about the bad stuff. For instance, if you lie to me and then tell the whole family that you don't know why I'm mad at you, or in fact give them a totally fictitious version of what happened, I'm not going to take out an ad in the local paper trashing you to all and sundry, but if somebody asks I'm bloody well going to tell them the truth. If that creates fallout for you, you shouldn't have lied in the first place.
I'm really regretting having attempted the conversation in the first place, as I honestly thought that having a frank exchange would start a positive upswing in this particular relationship. Turns out she's one of the "we don't talk about that" crowd. I got told that we don't have the kind of relationship where I can talk about the deep stuff with her. Disappointing especially given how close we used to be. And, of course, writing this is going to put the final nail in that coffin. Again, I'm an asshole.
At this point in my life, I just don't have the energy or the interest to deal with people who aren't good for me. If that means that there's a good portion of my family that's not really a part of my life, that's okay. I have a pretty sweet life here, with family and friends around me that value me for who and what I am. I have a three year old who tells me "it's not time for fashion" when I attempt to make her shop for clothes. I have a 22mo weirdo son who runs around trashing the place and shouting "ta-daaaah!" when he's created chaos. I have a husband who puts up with my dark times and doesn't say a word when I leave him home with the brats while I purge my demons through sweat.
It's not all good just yet, but it's damned well going to be. Because I'm one determined asshole.