rightkindofme
Diamond Member
I officiated a wedding today. I used to be a high school teacher and the bride and groom were my students. We bonded. That's why I picked the "relationships" section.
I am told I did well. I spoke passionately and with conviction and love. I was upbeat and positive for most of the reception. I played with my two and four year olds, who were the flower girls. They were picture perfect angelic in their dresses as they danced.
The entire bridal party was their siblings. They are incredibly close. The bride is best friends with the groom's sister and has been for a decade. The siblings made up a rap song about their relationship and set it to "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air". I may have spelled that song title wrong.
Both the bride and groom come from families untouched by divorce. Lots of really strong and happy marriages. Lots of long life and health. Beautiful and intelligent children who move out into the world and immediately find success. Lots of high school sweethearts still together and happy.
I know every family has problems that I don't see. But I cried and cried on the drive home. All fifty miles of it. I'm shocked I didn't drive off the bridge.
Why doesn't anyone love me like that? My husband and I eloped. We don't have relationships with our families.
I feel like a mean and terrible person for feeling jealous. I am the youngest of four siblings. My oldest sister came to my baby shower and spent a lot of time talking loudly about how she can still beat the shit out of me even if I did get taller than her. My oldest brother hates my guts and blames me for his kids not getting to know our father and other brother. I did those kids a favor when I prosecuted my father for raping me. Even if he did kill himself rather than go to prison. My other brother killed himself when I prosecuted my dad. That was "my" fault too.
I don't have a relationship with my mom because she is an unintentionally terrible person. She honest-to-goodness doesn't mean to hurt your feelings. But she does. She makes you feel like shit. She makes you feel like something people scrape off the bottom of their shoes.
I have a hard time at weddings. I drive home wanting to climb in the bath tub and spend the next few hours cutting because that is all that a worthless whore like me deserves.
My four year old asked me why I was crying. I thought about evading or lying. I said, "Because when I go to weddings I see how much other mommies and daddies love their children and I am sad that I don't get to have that." She told me at great length that I have her and her sister and her father. I told her that I am so glad. This is the best my life has ever been. They have made my life better. I am so glad I get to be loved.
I had to wait until my husband went to bed to start writing this and really doing the loud wracking sobs. I can't keep tears from streaming out of my eyes all the time but I can be pretty quiet. I know how to hide the fact that I am weak enough to cry. Not completely silent. My daughter listens closely. I think that when I finish writing I will go cry for a while.
I am glad that people love me enough to want me in their life now. I wish that I knew how to deal with the ache of being treated so badly by my family.
Sometimes it is hard to remember that the things I hear in my head are not true. I am not bad or dirty. I am not a stupid slut. I am not a mean bitch. I am not pathetic. I am not weak. My mom is wrong about me.
I would give just about anything in the whole wide world to have a mommy who was proud of me. I don't even think I miss the father role that much. Whatever. Can't miss what you never had. He only came around long enough to rape either my mother or me every so often.
My mom was hot and cold. She liked the attention she got from being perceived as a "good mother" so she had very good moments. She did things to make herself publicly look good. But she also taught me that in every loving relationship one person is more in love than the other and that person is weaker because of their love. She told me that if I am smart I will always make sure I am the one who loves less.
Going to weddings is hard. Standing up in front of a bunch of people and talking about love and commitment and adaptability and compromise was nearly hysterical. Why in the H-E-double hockey sticks do you want to hear my opinion on this matter? Isn't it clear that I am too ignorant about relationships to understand what to do?
But I have read a lot of books; probably hundreds on the institution of marriage alone in the past few years. I have the theory in my brain. I've just not seen it in practice close up much. It doesn't help that when I do see it close up I leave wanting to mutilate myself.
I feel absolutely certain in the core of my being that it is right and just that I be shunned for being evil. I don't know how to get my father out of my head. "You are a witch. You were born a witch. Your grandmother was a witch too." It is straight out of a horror novel crazy.
I feel like I should be put down for the good of the herd. You don't want bad seeds like me around. A bad apple can spoil a barrel.
I will sleep soon. Sleep will be good. I should have reupped my sleeping pill prescription. Rats. Bad self-care management that one. I will not cut.
I tell myself a lot that it doesn't matter how I feel, it matters how I act.
Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn't okay it isn't the end. Other platitudes. Blah blah blah. Whine. Whine. Whine. Self-pity. Self-pity. Self-pity.
Ok, maybe I'm done now.
I am told I did well. I spoke passionately and with conviction and love. I was upbeat and positive for most of the reception. I played with my two and four year olds, who were the flower girls. They were picture perfect angelic in their dresses as they danced.
The entire bridal party was their siblings. They are incredibly close. The bride is best friends with the groom's sister and has been for a decade. The siblings made up a rap song about their relationship and set it to "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air". I may have spelled that song title wrong.
Both the bride and groom come from families untouched by divorce. Lots of really strong and happy marriages. Lots of long life and health. Beautiful and intelligent children who move out into the world and immediately find success. Lots of high school sweethearts still together and happy.
I know every family has problems that I don't see. But I cried and cried on the drive home. All fifty miles of it. I'm shocked I didn't drive off the bridge.
Why doesn't anyone love me like that? My husband and I eloped. We don't have relationships with our families.
I feel like a mean and terrible person for feeling jealous. I am the youngest of four siblings. My oldest sister came to my baby shower and spent a lot of time talking loudly about how she can still beat the shit out of me even if I did get taller than her. My oldest brother hates my guts and blames me for his kids not getting to know our father and other brother. I did those kids a favor when I prosecuted my father for raping me. Even if he did kill himself rather than go to prison. My other brother killed himself when I prosecuted my dad. That was "my" fault too.
I don't have a relationship with my mom because she is an unintentionally terrible person. She honest-to-goodness doesn't mean to hurt your feelings. But she does. She makes you feel like shit. She makes you feel like something people scrape off the bottom of their shoes.
I have a hard time at weddings. I drive home wanting to climb in the bath tub and spend the next few hours cutting because that is all that a worthless whore like me deserves.
My four year old asked me why I was crying. I thought about evading or lying. I said, "Because when I go to weddings I see how much other mommies and daddies love their children and I am sad that I don't get to have that." She told me at great length that I have her and her sister and her father. I told her that I am so glad. This is the best my life has ever been. They have made my life better. I am so glad I get to be loved.
I had to wait until my husband went to bed to start writing this and really doing the loud wracking sobs. I can't keep tears from streaming out of my eyes all the time but I can be pretty quiet. I know how to hide the fact that I am weak enough to cry. Not completely silent. My daughter listens closely. I think that when I finish writing I will go cry for a while.
I am glad that people love me enough to want me in their life now. I wish that I knew how to deal with the ache of being treated so badly by my family.
Sometimes it is hard to remember that the things I hear in my head are not true. I am not bad or dirty. I am not a stupid slut. I am not a mean bitch. I am not pathetic. I am not weak. My mom is wrong about me.
I would give just about anything in the whole wide world to have a mommy who was proud of me. I don't even think I miss the father role that much. Whatever. Can't miss what you never had. He only came around long enough to rape either my mother or me every so often.
My mom was hot and cold. She liked the attention she got from being perceived as a "good mother" so she had very good moments. She did things to make herself publicly look good. But she also taught me that in every loving relationship one person is more in love than the other and that person is weaker because of their love. She told me that if I am smart I will always make sure I am the one who loves less.
Going to weddings is hard. Standing up in front of a bunch of people and talking about love and commitment and adaptability and compromise was nearly hysterical. Why in the H-E-double hockey sticks do you want to hear my opinion on this matter? Isn't it clear that I am too ignorant about relationships to understand what to do?
But I have read a lot of books; probably hundreds on the institution of marriage alone in the past few years. I have the theory in my brain. I've just not seen it in practice close up much. It doesn't help that when I do see it close up I leave wanting to mutilate myself.
I feel absolutely certain in the core of my being that it is right and just that I be shunned for being evil. I don't know how to get my father out of my head. "You are a witch. You were born a witch. Your grandmother was a witch too." It is straight out of a horror novel crazy.
I feel like I should be put down for the good of the herd. You don't want bad seeds like me around. A bad apple can spoil a barrel.
I will sleep soon. Sleep will be good. I should have reupped my sleeping pill prescription. Rats. Bad self-care management that one. I will not cut.
I tell myself a lot that it doesn't matter how I feel, it matters how I act.
Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn't okay it isn't the end. Other platitudes. Blah blah blah. Whine. Whine. Whine. Self-pity. Self-pity. Self-pity.
Ok, maybe I'm done now.
