Emotional Bondage, ugh as if?!

INT. KITCHEN – DAY

Thomas the Train music is blaring through a small flat screen T.V. A toddler is playing with blocks and eating breakfast. Veronica, feeling content, sips her coffee.

I recognize this feeling, a clear head with no pollutants. I have had periods of success in life where I was super focused and sober, then WHAMMO! I fuck up. I’ve had series of spells where I’ve lost control of my emotions and targeted whomever was near and practically lived in fear afterward trying to make it up to them, at any cost to my self esteem. It happened a lot, so much that it was a part of me and people around me accepted it and took advantage of it. Oh yes, people love to capitalize on other peoples mistakes.

I worked with a makeup artist years ago who suggested that my problem was that I haven’t mastered my lessons in life and that God will present the same lesson to me until I get it. She worked with Eminem as a dancer or maybe she was just near him at a concert. I don’t remember but she definitely had my undivided attention after that name dropper and when I asked if I could touch her arm because she was near him, she let me. How cool is that?! Obviously I didn’t take her advice but she had this internal strength, Princess Diana style, and I wanted it and still do.

INT. MIND OF VERONICA – NIGHT

Finance and Emotion. If finance represents my father and emotion represents my mother, then the colliding of two extremes created my skewed reality of the two. Right?

When I was dating a special person who lived in New York I forked over the cost. I paid when I got there, I bought the coffee, the food, cooked, cleaned and was ok with it for awhile. I felt like I was in a episode of Sex in the City every time I travelled up North to be with him. I let my imagination run wild and ignored the red flags. I cared deeply for him and emptied my wallet to be with him. He never asked me to pay for everything but he sure as hell never tried to stop me. Did he have money? I don’t know. I do know that he didn’t have money for me. You catch my drift. Who doesn’t like gifts, free food and money?! I was so hooked on him that I had his account information saved at my bank and would transfer him money a time or two. I’ve blogged about him before. He was the actor-guy that was too cool for me to write about. YES! I was a fucking dip-shit paying for a man friend with benefits. I believed that if I treated him the way I wanted to be treated he would eventually do the same. It was an investment I was wiling to make because I believed the return would be doubled. Pffft.

When I was with Southern Gentleman, not once in the entirety of our relationship did he post a photo of us without me suggesting that it was done. I never made it to his profile pic but he made it to mine. He kept a partially nude photograph of himself as his profile pic for “networking” and I swept my feelings about it under the rug. He sought his acceptance and love else where and emotionally abandoned me. I believed that we could get past the hurdles, remember? This too young to be a parent in your 20’s, have a job, be emotionally tied to someone, maintain boundaries-is just a fucking cop out. TOTAL. UTTER. BULL SHIT. It contributes to the Adult Child Syndrome that so many people, including myself have had to deal with. I may give social media the middle finger, but if you’re not mentioned in your partners news feed, little to no photos of the two of you together are current, no relationship status on fb (complicated is a cop out that suggests the other person is fishing elsewhere), no stupid fucking instagram photo of the two of you sharing a milkshake or fly fishing off the coast of Columbia, then “ YOU AIN’T THE ONE” and you need to cut the emotional ties of lies that you have created in your mind to that person. We are spirits in a media crazed world and social media is a part of our relationship goals now and forever, don’t even fake like it isn’t.

INT. DESK OF VERONICA – LATE NIGHT

A revelation happened and Veronica was happy.

I spent 14 years living with a mother who complained about everything and the world was against her and another 12 living with my father. No matter how many people tried to help my mom it wasn’t enough to satisfy her needs. Everyone was the bad guy, except for her. Even now she is still the victim. From as early as 5, I can remember her fits of rage and sadness. She was so beautiful and ugly at the same time. No ones basic needs were met under her roof because she couldn’t break free of her own emotional demons. Her selfishness and child like view of life made living with her hard to be a kid. She was talented but too focused on what she didn’t have. Trying to keep up with the Joneses made her nutty. There wasn’t room for me to have a bad day, a good day, or an OK day because I was being emotionally drained by her. Luckily, I have been able to break the curse and her manipulation tactics don’t work on me anymore. THANK ya’ very much, MA! I’m finally able to utilize her manipulative ways to avoid others trying to sneak into my bubble today.

When I arrived to my fathers neck of the woods I was expected to be grateful and appreciative of the value of a dollar, understand and apply the benefits of hard work to schooling and know the significant difference between dollar store brand clothing and designer brand. I didn’t. I barely had any life skills, let alone an understanding that my father was well off because of his work ethic in business. I was left to my own devices and was shamed when I didn’t perform like I was expected. I lived in a fancy little neighborhood and was gifted a fancy little car- I was clueless. Eventually, I found solace with friends who made me feel comfortable. It was a rowdy crowd but that’s where I felt accepted and later rejected for being too crazy, as if?! My father and I have an some sort of understanding now and I definitely understand the value of a dollar. All that he gave me growing up wasn’t meant to be interpreted that that’s how you show people love. I literally just didn’t have anything when I moved in with him and parents are supposed to care for their children in more ways than just popping them out. I have also learned that leather seats in a car are better than fabric, investments should only be made in the stock market (not people), Bose have the best speakers and the dollar store is great for everything else.

 

–Everyone has their own cross to bear. No one gets a free pass to avoidance of life’s bull shit. Remember, bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.

 

 

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