Parenting A Headache

I never intended to stay with my parents longer than a week; just stopped in to say, "hi," catch up with a few friends, get some badly needed beauty treatments, and move on. I did, after all, have a $140K/yr job waiting for me in Manhattan.

I didn't last a week.

They flat out refuse, under no uncertain terms, to even acknowledge my transition. Calling me by my old name, using male pronouns. To quote:

Just because you changed your name doesn't mean we changed it.

I didn't even mention (again) the fact my driver's license and passport both say 'F'.

Oh it gets better... from the mother, just after the above doozie:

You only think of yourself; you're the one that abandoned us.

>blink, blink<

Okaaaaay. Clearly all that crap about being true to yourself was just that. I didn't even respond. In this badly fractured family, one only needs to go to bed and in the morning, everyone pretends like nothing happened the day before. It's like Groundhog Day meets the Osborns.

Of course, this was the third time in three day I went to bed early without saying anything. This house is a toxic mix of stale cigarette smoke, bitter moods, and dreams unfulfilled. It doesn't matter anymore what I say, they argue or affirm the opposite of every statement. The collective mindset of the household has gotten nasty. Even the dogs are not immune to the resentment, Phoebe has gotten quite hateful and possessive, and each dog only wants what the other one has, be it attention from one of us or just a toy.

I remember listening to an interview with Alan Alda, talking about how his mother developed paranoid schizophrenia and how the family dealt with it. He and his father never - ever - said one word about the problems in the family. I'm forced to worry the same might be true here.

What's wrong with my mom?

I really, really do have compassion for them. I'm really, really sorry they lost their son, and I'm really, really sorry they refuse to accept their daughter. But this is really, really screwed up.

And so I'm leaving... this time for good. They can deal with the death of their son on their own terms, but I won't be coming back. Oh, I'll be here when they come to me as Clio, but I refuse to live under their delusions and broken dreams any longer.

It sounds harsh, these words, for in them I have failed to convey the extent of hostility and rejection toward me. Every time I have presented them with an opportunity for growth, they have shunned me... this is something they are going to have to go through on their own.

Meanwhile, my life continues to suck and blow at the same time. Job offer withdrawn. The drama in this job search is off the charts and I haven't the energy to dissipate it here. There is however, some good news. By the grace of a wonderful friend and his new wife, I'll be escaping from here to - gasp - even deeper into Indiana, habiting her now vacant home.

I figure one week in a furious depression, out of human contact, with plenty of mind-altering substances to deal with recent events. Then it's back to anonymous work-from-home until I can get myself solvent again. Who knows? Maybe I'll like it there and make it home while I rebuild. I'll still be car-less (and fancy free?) in Indiana, but there's a - gasp - Wal-Mart within walking distance. I'll actually be walking back and forth to Wal-Mart every day to get my groceries. That's really gonna suck in the winter, if I'm here that long. On the other hand, they are just a couple miles from the airport, making quick get-aways feasible.

It is easy to be thankful for that which we scarcely have; it takes a spiritual master to be thankful for that which we have in abundance.

I am thankful for my friends.