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Once again I haven’t written in my blog in a long time. I feel like the older I get the more I want to figure out myself. The more confusion comes, the more responsibilities, the more you have to prioritize your wants and needs, the more selective you are in careers and friendships and relationships. The question is.. why am I making it so difficult on myself? Why am I always over thinking a simple decision? When I should just deal with the consequences and benefits unexpectedly. Why am I making clear statements mean something else? When I should just be taking the statement for what it is and not thinking of a worse situation. Why am I expecting myself to take on all these responsibilities? When it’s not my problem. Why am I being selective of friendships and relationships? When I should be grateful and happy to have friends and to go on spontaneous dates with guys without over thinking how were going to be and just roll with it. Life is just so confusing sometimes and its hard not to fall back on it. 

I was watching an episode of tough love and it flashed back to my counselling sessions. I’ve been having a few lately to work on my “issues” if there are any.. haha. I’m always looking for ways to figure out why I am the way I am and ways to better self to get to where I want to be. Anyways back to that episode of tough love. I was watching the episode where they were to write a letter to a the parent who affected their life the most.  

I think both parents have affected my life but I would say my mom would be the one who affected it the most. I grew up remembering my mom as angry, sexiest, believed a woman should do everything for their man. All I remembered was bickering with my  mom all the time. She had really high standards of me. She was really strict. She used to hit me just to memorize the times table. She used to hit me because I was being disrespectful. I hated how she did to make me listen to her that I didn’t even care and I fought back even though I knew I was going to get hit. Or I would just say things to provoke her. I hated my mom growing up. I know that’s a terrible thing to say but it was truly what I felt. Even though there are days I felt like she loved me it didn’t completely get rid of the feeling I had. She was always very strict with me. I had to be home everyday afterschool in elementary. My grandma would pick me up at 310. Even when I grew up and went to highschool she told me I had to be at home everyday at 310 exactly and do homework. Of course I never obeyed and ended up rebelling all the time. Growing up I was always shy but when I went home it was like a constant battle. I was always yelling at my mom or she was yelling at me. I remember being rude to my mom and there would be rare occasions that I was nice to her. I feel like my mom’s scared of me now and I think she’s said that before as well. I don’t want her to be scared of me because I get angry at her. It’s just weird when I look at her now. I feel like she’s the complete opposite. When I was young and growing up she was the one who was mean, angry, strict, strong and now when I look at her she seems timid, scared, passive, lets things go your way when youre upset. I actually feel bad. I’ve worked on myself alot to not be as angry with her anymore. It took me a while to learn how to apologize to my mom when I was being mean. I forced myself to even though it felt awkward. The more I did it the less awkward it got. I’m still not very close to my mom and when I feel like she tries to grab onto me and links my arm I pull away and pushed her off. I just feel like its fake. Sometimes I’m very uncomfortable with her trying to act like were the closest thing when were not. I don’t know if its the fact. or maybe it is the fact that she was so aggressive with me when I was young. She used to beat me with a huge wood stick until I was red. I’m still scarred. I know so because when I talked to my counselor about it she knew how deep rooted it was and how much it hurt to talk about it. Let me to tell you I don’t cry. People tell me how I can be cold and unemotional. I can’t help it. I don’t know why I’m so unemotional. I didn’t even cry on my grandpa’s funeral. I had to force myself to cry because I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t care. I do care about my grandpa I really do. I don’t know if I’ve learned to stop crying because it made me feel weak and I should always pull myself together and not let people know how much they’ve hurt me. A vivid memory I have of my past childhood was when I talked to my mom about her hitting me. It took me alot of courage to ask her, trust me I remember how much it took for me to ask. And she just laughed. That was the most painful memory I have of my childhood. It even gets being slapped in the face by father. 

I realize I’ve could have been really cold because of this. That every single time I got hit I thought it was going to make me stronger, not weak. That I thought not expressing my feelings would make a stronger person. Being disconnected from my family because I thought grades, ambition, and money would make them love me not my personality, them getting to know me, or my love. I remember having a tutor who was hurt by his parents too and he probably shouldn’t have told me what he told me but he did. He told me what happened to him and he told me that “they only have you and children to take care of them for the future when they can’t take care of themselves.” And that stuck with me. I believed it. The things and experiences I’ve had made me believe it. I couldn’t even deny it. That’s the part that hurt. I cried that day.

They say that childhoods shape you either you like or not. I would hope it doesn’t but I guess it does. Maybe that’s the reason why I feel so disconnected, that I don’t feel like I know how to love somebody, that I push myself away from people when they  start to get close or get to know things about me. I’m still going to counselling right now because I want to get rid of all these blocks in my life. I don’t want to wait til later to fix them. I want to fix them now. I don’t hold grudges for what my parents have done to me. Because honestly in my heart I feel like they did it because they thought it would make me better. I understand that they probably grew up the same way. It’s the meaning you give to the situation that sticks with you. And that can either make you or break you. 

And the good thing is I found out I’m not bipolar LOL. thanks google for freaking me out once again.