A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid

Mark the Places in My Book With Photographs We Never Took

Tonight is one of those nights that I am SO glad I have kept my blog away from family eyes. It a night filled with rediculous, unnecessary drama and thus blaring music aimed at drowning out the overabundance of anger I have toward my family right now.

I am convinced that maturity is entirely lost on my family members ... entirely

I wrote an e-mail to my brother asking for his address and got this in response:

Why does this matter to the Feds - are we even still related? Aren’t you legally emancipated from this family yet? I haven’t heard from you since your graduation - it would be nice to know what GF and I got you for your birthday . . .

I’m still here when you figure out that I’m not the enemy.

Now let's recap here ...
It is totally normal for my brother and I to go months without making contact with one another. We talk regarding holidays, family events, and when we will be in the same town together. We don't have a sharing, chatty relationship. What we know about the others business we learn through our parents. Its been this way for years. Why is it suddenly abnormal now?

And I'm pretty sure the phone and email work both ways. I don't recall leaving a communication unanswered. So, he's pointing a finger without having made an effort ... nice ...

Also of note - The last time I saw my brother was when he was flipping me off on the way out of town, following one of his temper tantrums that had carried over from 24 hours prior.

I think this left-field douche move would be one of many reasons we are not closer. But where do these moves come from? Dad, for one.

Dad is known for playing buddy-buddy with whomever he is talking to at the time. He makes psycho-analytical ventures about the other person's emotions or mental state, without ever trying to talk about things in a three-way conversation. This kind of behavior antagonizes the situation between my brother and me. It shores up the high and mighty routine that he so violently defends, creating even more animosity than there was to begin with. Dad is nothing more an enabler of the negative relationship he rails on us about.

But what happens when you call Dad on that? Bad things ...

Accountability is not something he wants to be faced with. Pursing it and expressing frustration over it got me one thing tonight. Rejected.

More specifically, my dad hung up on me. With all the maturity of a five year old running away from home. Hung up on his own daughter. Didn't answer again. Didn't call back.

My role model at work.

Posted by Princess Cat at July 18, 2006 12:29 AM @ 12:29 AM in Drama // Permalink | TrackBack