The meaning of life

I haven't been blogging much because, honestly, I haven't had much I've wanted to say.

It's been a rough few weeks, and what we've learned most of all is that old habits die very hard.

I've been questioning my feelings and reactions so much that I'm having a hard time letting myself just feel. For me, it's important to know if my feelings of hurt/ anger/ frustration are justified, or if they're an over-reaction. I thelps me to keep a (relatively) balanced worldview.

But not being sure if I'm right to feel how I do makes everything very complicated.

I think I need to learn to take less responsibility. That's right, less responsibility. Because in my family, my role is to do the hard work for others, and also to be the fall-guy at all times. I have to make the sacrifices, and they have to be made.

It's hard to understand - and even harder to overcome - 28 years of being placed in this role. I know I don't want it anymore, and that it's up to me to communicate this, but not to feel guilty when my family don't like it. My happiness has to start taking first place.

The Trouser thinks it's a bit of an existential crisis (hence the title). I don't know if it is - but I know that it's a really, really important realisation, and an important time for me to gather my thoughts and take action.

I believe that souls (spirits - whatever, I like the word "soul") can be re-born. I believe that my sould has a journey that will span many lifetimes, and that the lessons my soul learns will take multiple lifetimes to learn. For example, I was once told that my father and I had clashed for many lifetimes, and that we would continue to do so until the issue was resolved.

So I could run away from my problems, but they'll only come back - and I believe in my next lifetime. I feel like I owe it to myself (and my past selves, as well as my future selves) to make a concerted effort to really understand and work on these issues.

This blog has been my outlet for my frustrations (as well as a lot of fun!), and I am nervous about giving up the safety of anonyblogging about my real feelings, and moving to a new blog where people will know it's me, and people I know will actually read it. Especially now.

But it's time.

Not quite yet - I'll be back to tell you where I'm going, should you care to follow me.

It got worse

and then it got less bad. I'd say better, but it isn't better per se, it's just less dire.

The Trouser and I understand each other better than ever, and have an even closer relationship.

My parents and I (and The Trouser, for that matter) do not.

We (The Trouser and I) thought I was over some major hurt from my childhood, but it turns out I'm not, despite our best efforts. And this affects how I relate to my parents as an adult.

It affects more than just that though - it affects how I relate to people and situations generally. I'm aware of it, but I am not yet able to stop it.

It has been a really tiring, painful process and we're both emotionally and physically exhausted - hence the lack of posting. And, for the people we see in person, the lack of energy and engagement with life in general.

This year I'm looking forward to Christmas not for the celebrations, but for the relative peace and quiet. We need time to recuperate and recharge, and gear up towards the wedding.

The best laid plans

We've worked really hard on our wedding. The hardest bit has been keeping the respective families happy: sufficiently involved, but not required to do any actual work.

Getting the invitation list together was really hard. We asked each family for a list of people they'd like to invite, then combined the lists with ours, and then mad some preliminary decisions based on criteria we agreed on.

Criteria like, do we know these people? If we don't, we're not inviting them.

We then submitted our suggested list back to both families for feedback. We reiterated that these would be the people we invited, and no one else. No complaints, so we did the invitations.

Fast forward to Monday night. It's after 10, I'm in bed, and my dad calls me. I say I'm in bed, and tired. He's babbling on about someone whom he leads me to believe is someone I have met before, and how they'd heard about my wedding. Then he hands me over to my mother, who eventually explains that he's invited this person - apparently his cousin - to our wedding. We establish that I didn't know know she even existed, and that my mother has never met her. Dad shouts inb the background that I need to send them an invitation right now.

We end the call without me agreeing to do anything, and being tired I forget about it all and go to sleep.

Only to wake up the next morning with the full picture (cheers, subconscious!): my father invited his cousin - whom I haven't even heard of, let alone met, in 21 years of living here - to our wedding. In spite of knowing everything I've outlined above.

We're both pissed off, because we went to great pains to get the invitation process right. We were clear that we weren't inviting "randoms" - people who we didn't know but our parents liked. hell, The Trouser had to tell his mother that the person she invited to "just turn up" at the ceremony was not, in fact, welcome, because this is an invitation-only event.

So I send a polite, formal email to my mother explaining that these people will have to be uninvited. We don't know them, and no one can just randomly invite people.

Last night, all hell broke loose. My father calls, shouting and demanding to know if I've read "my email". He's obviously pissed off when I tell him I haven't. He keeps shouting at me, so I hang up.

So he calls The Trouser's cellphone, because obviously he needs to speak man to man about this issue, and I am obviously being a nasty little bitch. How unfortunate that I answer and tell him that he cannot shout at me. So he shouts anyway and makes all kinds of rash statements. Apparently he didn't know about the invitation process. They did us a favour by not inviting many of their friends initially. These people are family. I'm ungrateful. They can't invite anyone to the wedding they're paying for [in my dreams!]. If Im going to be so hard-line, then he won't come. And then he hangs up on me.

About an hour later, my mother calls to talk to me. I can't believe that they're tag-teaming me. She's never defended me, but they've never done this before. So I give her the same reasons. She tries to defend what my father did. She can't really defend it.

Throughout all of this, I keep super-calm. I don't make rash threats. I don't shout. I stick to the facts. I point out the obvious, since my parents are both trying to ignore it. I point out that they have the right to make their own choices in life, and that if they feel so strongly about these people not being invited, then it is their decision whether they attend the wedding or not. I point out that our shaky-at-best relationship has been further damaged by the wild accusations and threats. I also point out that while I had no choice but to submit to my father's bullying as a child, I am no longer a child, and will not condone his behaviour.

It all took me back to being a kid, when he and my mother would tell me off. Then she'd go and he'd threaten me further, really frightening me. And when I told my mother, he would always deny it. He was so vindictive that at one stage my mother told me that I was going to live with my aunt and uncle - but he quashed that idea because it made him look bad.

Right now, The Trouser and I do not intend to reverse our decision. We know it means my father will be bitter, and that on our wedding day he will go out of his way to try to make me feel shitty about these people not being invited. He won't want me to be happy when he isn't, because he's that kind of person.

Frankly, I'd rather have him not attend. I'd rather have an invitation-only celebration with the people who truly love us and wish us well. But that isn't an option anymore.

I didn't think we'd planned for every contingency, but I thought we had this bit covered. Shows you how much I know.

I feel sick about it all.

I wish we could just escape and never come back.

Silence

I don't seem to have much to say these days. Or, I have a lot to say, but it's a bit negative.

Like how my father spontaneously invited his half-cousin (whom he hasn't seen since he was a kid - and whom no one in my family has met, despite living in the same country for 21 years) to our wedding. After we'd all discussed the invitation process at length, and agreed on no random invitations from parents, and that we wouldn't invite people we don't know.

Like how my junior at work is not going to be re-hired because while she means well, she is not good at her job - technically, or in terms of attitude, commitment and maturity. She should find out this afternoon, and I am expecting anger, betrayal, and hurt. Oh, and I have to train her replacement up before I go, but I will only get 2 weeks to do it.

Like how I am about to not deliver projects at work cos people are not deliverting their parts, and they know this and do nothing.

Like how I'm over all this stuff and just want a holiday.

So instead, I'm trying to focus on good stuff, like finding my maybe-wedding shoes (at $55 for leather with leather lining, I love them enough to wear them anyway, so I'll still keep an eye out for a something more elegant), and the fact that The Trouser came home and snuggled up to me for ages last night.