A brief summary of a long time 10/7/15

It's been a while, a really long while.

I guess you could say that things are going well.
Classes haven't been too terrible; I found out that I actually like finance courses. Wasn't a huge fan of accounting in high school, but to an extent, I really enjoy it now.

Things haven't changed a whole lot, I'm still avoiding various aspects of my life: the blood elders still don't know of Hillary, I haven't offered up any information regarding classes or work, I still have issues from time to time, but that's expected.

Two weeks ago the blood elders came in to town, not to see my brother or I, but because Rhonda had a meeting and Tim wanted to give her company on the drive.  We did have dinner with them, but I am mildly proud to say that I had a nice peaceful dinner at a restaurant, mostly because I didn't engage in conversation, and "watched" the football game going on.

They didn't ask too many questions, I didn't provide too many answers. Tim wanted to hang out on Saturday, they got there on Friday, but I mentioned that I was studying for tests and had a group project to do.  If that was a 100% true statement, we won't ask.e

I started group therapy.

It's odd.. I'm not sure it's the place for me, but hey, you never know where you'll learn something.

It's a relationship group, we meet on Tuesdays for an hour and a half.  There are ten of us and six therapists, and we've had four meetings so far.

It's a bit surprising how much the ten of us have in common, and not just relationship building/mistrust things either.

One of the girls, there are only three of us, seems like an interesting person.  I'd probably hang out with her if we could have contact outside of group.

In the group we talk about whatever comes up,  sometimes it's things that are happening, dispelling social norms, or explaining how and what it looks like when our walls go up.

I'm not really sure what it looks like for all situations, but I know for me, with my parents one way a wall showed up was that I quit informing them of my actual habits.  Sure they were still minutely interested, not enough to see that I didn't actually care about what I was telling them, but enough to still ask.  As an example, Rhonda asked about my classes and if I like them, I responded with that I really like my literature class, not a total lie, I enjoy literature, but I didn't want to give up with what I'll call my little secret, I really enjoy economics.  I'm starting to see that I could end up as an international economic corespondent.

One of my professors offered up an opportunity of holding a position to answer questions of Japanese students about the United States agricultural economy, there were ten positions open and I now hold one. I'm pretty excited about it.

I could also see being an econ professor though.  Maybe I could  be both? It's my life, why not.

Granted, what I'd really like to do, own a book shop or community library and not have to have a mentally challenging career. It may be weird, but I kind of like the idea of having a job that's a bit mind numbing some times.  One that I care about, but one that doesn't exhaust all of my energy so that when I get off work, which I hope not to be a 9-5, I can still have me time.

That's a goal of mine, to not have to work all the time.  I've seen what it does to a person,  it's not a pleasant sight.

I'm (slowly) learning to let go.

Some days are still taxing: talking to Rhonda for 28 minutes the other day, that was really rough, but I made it a point to stay verbally cheery, even when I absolutely wanted off the phone. I'd like to say that it made a difference for me, I can't say for sure that it did, but I know that Rhonda wasn't near as audibly frustrated and pissed off at me as she usually is.

Later that day I felt like I had a bowling ball being shoved into my eye sockets, on top of someone rhythmically inflating a balloon inside my skull.

I wanted to just pass out for a few days, total darkness and silence, curled up with Hillary.  That didn't happen, I had class, needed to cook dinner, and do some homework.  Life doesn't go as planned very often does it?

Lately I've been thinking a a lot about how when I was little I wanted to be blind, it still seems viable some days.  I think it stems from the light sensitivity, that if I could wear the glasses, not have to have my eyes open to walk around, it might be better.

I don't fully believe that though, only if it was a controlled blindness.

People look at you really funny when you wear your sunglasses inside while walking through Walmart, it made it a tad more bearable though.

I think it'll work out, it has to right?
Even if it's not how I wanted it to work out, I guess some day it will no matter what.

--Carson

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Houston, we have progress! 5/27/15

Today I learned a lot about myself, actually no, I realized things I thought I knew had changed.

Hopefully for the better.

The things I learned may have been for the better, but I can't say that didn't come with a cost.

For starters, I realized that my childhood really bothers me.  Sure you may have realized it before I did but that's okay, I'll catch up to you soon enough.

I like children and I use to think that I wanted a few, that I'd be good mom eventually.  Now, I'm not so sure that that's the case, I still think I'd be an okay mom, but I don't want kids.

What scares me into thinking that is that I don't want to make the same horrifying mistakes that my parents made.

To say that I haven't thought about making sure my parents mistakes end with me would be a lie.

As a child you pick up on your parent's skills, or lack there of. I've taken some time to analyze what I could have acquired as a kid and either I'll be the same brand of screwed up as my parents, or I'll make new mistakes on my own.

But one thing that lingers for me is that I may not realize everything that they, for lack of a better phrasing, sucked at.

I also learned how much I didn't realize was not normal, and wasn't appropriate.

It hurts to have people, licensed physicians, say that my parent's were abusive.  I find it hard to come to grasps that some of the things that were highly common occurrences in my childhood, and in some cases still occur now.

I don't know that I'll ever totally accept some of the things as abuse, even though if I were seeing them in someone else's life they totally would be, because it's how they showed love, no matter how messed up that sounds.

I think I may actually care about my parents.  Not in the normal sense though, I care about them in a sense as you care about the person who just walked past you on the sidewalk.  You want the best for them, but you won't check in with them every few days to make sure it happens, simply because it doesn't matter.

That stranger could die tomorrow and you not lose sleep over it, because you didn't know it happened, or know them.

I do know that I care for my grandpa, a lot.  He was and is the parent I needed.  From picking my brother and I up after school, taking us for Friday Shakes even if it wasn't Friday, to coming to dinner when I'm home and making sure that I get a hug from some one who cares.  He is a great man, I feel bad for leaving him behind, I really wish he could have came to college with me. That's unrealistic though..

One way I know he loves me, in an honest love, is that he has a picture from every year of school for both my brother and myself in his house.  Not only that, but they are proudly displayed all over his house.

From kindergarten to fourth grade, my elementary school had something called grandparents day, where the students would be on risers, and sing songs to their grandparents.  Although Donny isn't actually related, he didn't miss any of them.  He has those pictures around his house too.

In fourth grade we did a project called Flat Stanley, I sent mine to him along with a letter and he was suppose to carry it around for a week then mail him back with a letter of what they did together.

Donny went above and beyond with it, he had Stanley sit on a cow, help feed the dogs, all things that are silly, but just barely believable.

Instead of keeping Flat Stanley myself, I gave him back to Donny, displayed on a poster and with pictures and the letters on it.

That hangs in his kitchen.

It makes me feel better knowing that I didn't grow up alone.
He was always there for me, even when I didn't realize it.

That's how I first learned what love was.
That's also how I learned I didn't love my parents and they didn't love me.

That's probably enough off my shoulders for one day, I'm sure you'll read about more of it another time though.

Take care of yourselves.

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