Thursday, January 26, 2006
My parents are in town. That means a lot to the peeps out there who have acutally met my parents. Or better yet: Been yelled at by my father or stuffed full of cookies by my mother. The long and short of it.
A couple weeks ago I battled with a week long depression. My remission has been excellent lately, but the holidays brought on some blues. Honestly, I would take a shitty week over the mind numbing years that I've previously experienced.
Depression? Parents? Where is this all going? Today has scientifically proven that my parents make me depressed. I can't escape the bleakness. It's amazing that I've never made this connection before.
Synopsis:
Mom-- She was raised to be the perfect wife and mother. Doting and sacrificing everything for her husband and children. She has no identity. She can't decide what pants to wear.
Dad-- Recovering Acolholic. Starting over career. Template type A personality. Busy but only really distracted. Really, really, really, lucky that his children still talk to him.
Three minutes into the movie it you know nothing good is going to happen. (Thinking of Mystic River, Godfather, Monster?) I grew up in this plot. Sad, sad life where people are strong armed by expectations and obligations. Happiness is a luxury.
Harshly critical? Maybe. But I see it objectivly. It is what it is. I can only change and improve myself. I am truly sad that I see my mother and father as older people in my life, not my parents. Strange and true.
I'm just glad I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow.
