And They Came

Late last night I posted about the monsters of memory that I've been feeling bubbling under the surface of my soul.  My intent in writing the post was to call out the monsters.
It worked.

I didn't dream last night, and I had the only full night of restful sleep that I've had in a couple of weeks, since I first started noticing this restlessness.  But I woke up with a clear picture of a connection that I haven't made before.

My oldest daughter is a sophomore in high school.  She's oh-so-smart and driven to succeed and has incredibly high standards for herself.  I support this as well as I can and I'm very proud of her for setting her own goals and working to achieve them.  She applies a lot of pressure to herself and I find increasingly that my role is to support her through helping her to manage her anxiety and stress by providing perspective and humor and occasionally technical support. 
Last week she decided that she wanted to apply for acceptance into the National Honor Society and I've been helping her to fill out her various forms, gain recommendation letters and get her essay together.  Last night I was crawling around on the floor trying to figure out what had happened to the computer printer so that she could print out her final essay.

This is a stark contrast from how I was supported in high school.  I was very smart, too.  I actually skipped the eighth grade entirely and still signed up for and scored high marks in honors classes my freshman year of high school.  Then, I made my revelations about ENF's sexual abuse of me mid-year.  That didn't go well.  ENF and NM's outright blame the victim game pushed me further over the precipitous edge of my teenage sanity.  I started seeking fulfillment in other, more destructive and scary - even life-threatening - areas.  I started drinking, smoking and promiscuously having sex.  I sought out relationships with people who I knew wouldn't treat me well, in fact, I knew that these bad boys and girls would treat me just like the trash that it had been proven to me that I was.  I shot my middle finger in the air to NM and ENF with the only tools I had, effectively - I'll destroy my self, then, thank you very much.

And what did my parents do?  They let go of the reins.  I ran rampant and they largely didn't say a damned thing.  Why?  Because I wasn't worth it to them, that's why.  In fact, it worked to their advantage that I went on a single-purposed spree of vengeance against the only person I could damage; me.  Cause later in life they were certainly able to (and did, frequently,) point to my destructive behavior and say, "See!  Look!  She wasn't a good kid!  It was her fault!"

Now, keep in mind that I skipped a grade, and my birthday is late in the school year.  So, coming up on the end of my freshman year, I was just barely 14 years old.  Awfully young to carry the weight of the world.

There was never any talk of NHS applications or college planning in my house, well, at least not with me.  Narc Older Sister had been given assistance, and in fact later in life I remember driving the nine hours to visit her (when she was actually capable of living away from the Clan for a few years) with a check from NM and ENF to her for $10,000 to help pay for her college education.   I'm horrified in retrospect that they had the gall to ask me, the child they NEVER helped with schooling, to transport this blood money.  They did the same thing a few years later when she got married; having me take her a check for $2,000, and when I got married a year later having nothing to give me.  NM actually said, "Gee, Vanci, it just seems like when it comes to you there's nothing left." 

This is one of the monsters that's been peeking out.  These are firm, clear memories that I've never lost hold of, but here's the difference and the reason that I think they've been wiggling.  My oldest daughter is a fantastic person, but she's a sixteen year old.  By definition, she sees the world as an extension of herself. What matters most to a sixteen year old is herself, and that's fine, that's normal.  That's teenage-dom.  They're incredibly self centered because their world is absolutely wrapped up in their own skin and maybe about six inches of space around themselves.  It's temporary and neccesary for growth, even if it is extremely annoying. 

In other words, while I've been crawling around on the floor trying to find the damn dusty printer cord, she's standing there sighing and making noise that it's late and she really needs to get this essay printed and why does this always happen to her and nothing's ever right and blah, blah, blah. 

And I just want to scream at her, "You think your life's hard?!?"
But I don't.  Because I don't want her to live in the hell that I did. 

So I'll help her with her essay and I'll take her to the college power hours and I won't let her teenagery selfish attitude push me too far, because I need to recognize that one of the reasons I'm having a hard time is because I'm seeing this beautiful young lady receive all the help and tools she needs to be succesful, and these are tools that I never received.  I won't resent my child for asking of me what I wasn't given.

And now that I've made the connection and put it in black and white, I feel ever so much better and here's what I take away from this whole thing:
I'm a better parent than either of mine were, by miles. 
My daughter won't have to fight the battles that I did because I've kept her safe from harm to the best of my ability.

Both of these incredible milestones are possible only because I cut the NFOO off from us.  If those aren't the biggest fuck you's to the Nparents I can think of, I don't know what is. 

Cause you know what?  They couldn't destroy me in high school, where I still graduated with a 3.5GPA while drunk (literally, I was drunk at my graduation,) and I won't allow the memory of their horrible parenting and abuse to destroy me now or effect my children. 

Love,
Vanci