I’m now looking for a grief counselor. I can’t sleep or function well.
I can’t explain the whole situation here as I will continue to honor my word and not to use any information that could identify members of my family by name or situation. Let it be understood that I had been asked by my father and step-mom, to house my father after the death of my step-mom, and not for the first time over the years. I lovingly accepted this task.
I knew that I didn’t get along super well with my sisters and brothers nor do they with each other. But where once there was acceptance of our differences, Goth or otherwise, now there is none on their part towards me.
I find it almost funny that the Goth in the family is loving, forgiving, kind, and accepting of the difference in people and the ‘good Christian’ ‘we love the world and all people in it’ vanillas are not.
We just don’t think the same. Not just for my Gothness either. It wasn’t the black I wore or the paleness of my skin that got this all started.
In the end it was a simple misunderstanding blown out of proportion and into a war that brought this family relationship down.
I said something commonly meant to soothe the dieing. This was misinterpreted and offense was taken. As I was unaware at the time it occurred (This person chose to continue to act as if all was right and good. That the plan was going ahead as first discussed when I was around, and no other family member told me of the rift or changes so that I could try to fix hurt feelings and restore understand again.) I continued to soldier on with the tasks allotted me making ready for my father to move in. No attempt was made to clear this up or inform me of the changes that were being made for my father to move in with my sister. No attempt to stop me from making expensive and difficult changes they all knew were in the works to my home to accommodate him. No trial for my perceived slight. No benefit of the doubt. No chance to fix things with my step-mom or anyone else before she died.
Instead the family as a whole chose to think the worst and work against me. My efforts at family unity in trying times were mocked behind my back and torn down in the end. My integrity was questioned. I was ostracized. I was personally vilified, reviled, and sentenced to mental and emotional torture.
I was not the only one who was treated badly at this time. But my being on the spot made me the major recipient. The others got the lighter sentence of being cut off as dead.
The thing of it was that I am and never have been against the change of plans. Instead I think they are right and good for the persons involved. It was the asking me to be involved when I was clearly not wanted from the start, and then vilifying me as if I was the instigator and usurper.
Not one of my siblings or their children or grandchildren wants to have any sort of relationship with me at any level now for the hurt I supposedly planned and caused. This in turn means I will never see my father again. I must go through them to even speak with him in the future. This will not be happening any time soon with feelings on their side running so high and I am too raw to allow another attack in the near future. And as my father is old and in ill health, (for even I am a senior citizen), it is not likely to happen in his lifetime.
I grieve. I grieve the loss of a loved one. I grieve the lost understandings. I grieve the loss of once loving caring relationships. I grieve the loss of family, dysfunctional as they are, but still family.
I grieve. But it is not a good loss or loving good-bye. It is a much harder task to cope with.
I grieve.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
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