Quote:
Originally Posted by hankster
I am first generation italian-american. If the world hasn't ended and lightning hasn't struck for what I've done, trust me, you're safe. I know that doesn't make you feel any better, but you will if you give it time. Some days I sit in my therapist's office and just thank him for my freedom. But yeah - every sunday morning is still scary. I just pray she'll leave me alone, and once the clock moves past noon, I start to feel safer.
I think she scared the heck out of me somehow when I was really little, because I have always been afraid to cross her. I was an unusually good child, I think, but just out of fear. That's not real character, that's empty. There are little stories, little memories I have, where I find myself thinking, oh she's not gonna like that - and I wonder what the genesis of that feeling is, because it sounds like a voice from beyond!
P.s. one t told me it had nothing to do with being italian!!
|
Oh god, how I remember thinking the same thoughts when I was litte.
I kind of agree that it doesn't have anything to do with being Italian. I had friends from other parts of the world that were so close to their family, never experiencing my problems. Why I have a dysfunctional family and why I am such a mess is beyond me.
My family still has the old values of the culture in them though. I don't even know if that's what you call it. At the dinner table, the men are always served first, no talk of business at the table or else. So when my husband would speak about business or money the evil eyes my mom would give if she wasn't in the mood to hear it. However, whenever my mom decides to change the rules about things that's ok. If you don't spend holidays together, even birthdays, forget about it. I mean god forbid I wanted to go out alone with my husband on my birthday or for his, the snub I would get from her. I mean after all we all have to spend it together. The last holiday we had was Easter. She had it at her house because I was too sick to have it. I didn't even want to go. I said I don't think I'm up for it, maybe I should just send my husband and kids, she was so mad, so I forced myself to go.
Oh and when I was there of course my brother and his girlfriend was as well, who I might add my mother knocks all the time to me. Anyway, I decided to sit on her couch and fall asleep a few minutes. I just have a lot of pain sometimes and when I can welcome sleep it helps Because then I don't feel the pain. My mother was cleaning up the kitchen and decides she is going to make coffee in her new single maker coffee pot for my brother because he asked for it. Of course she doesn't know how to use the pot neither does my dad because he uses the espresso pot on the stove, so god forbid my brother does not get his coffee. You know what she does? She comes over to me wakes me up and says c'mon come inside and help us with the machine to make coffee, we don't know how to use it. I was so out of it. I wasn't surprised but I just felt so unloved so horrible. I got up sick as a dog made the coffee and that was that.
That night I remember my husband scolding my son about the tv show he was watching because it wasn't suited for our daughter. I heard my brother say something to my son like oh wow, you have to turn off your show for a four year old. That's pathetic.
It's ridiculous I know, my brother is also a baby. A 40 something year old baby.
When we left I knew my mother brother and his girlfriend were going to have a field day talking up a blue storm about my husband. My mother can't wait for things like that to be so negative. But yet she's bad talking us to the girl who she can't stand and also to my brother who she bad mouths whenever she can with me.
I felt so uncomfortable leaving but I knew I had to go, I knew it was best. Why wait to be the last ones to go. Let them have their field day.
It's painful thinking about the bad. Really hurts. And my dad just sits there through all of it. What a waste of time.