Family isn't blood

I'm going to write about this in the hopes it helps someone else. 

It may get me in hot water, depending on readership; but I feel it's worth it. 

I have been more than a little depressed, and angry, about my family.  I feel I was shorted in so many ways.

It's bad enough my mother disabled me, then ran off when she found she had.  No, I wasn't molested.  I had the basics, sort of.  It would take a very long post to clarify.   Example, we had plenty of (nonfat) milk, but when I drank it, my stepmother used to make comments about "my weight" and say I would "end up as big as a barn".  I was a 100 pound, 5 foot 7, teenager.  I was 20 pounds, or 20% underweight, yet she was constantly making comments on how I'd get fat, I had to be careful, etc. 

Teenagers are supposed to drink a lot of milk, at least a quart a day!  

Amusing: now that I AM fat, she doesn't say a word.  Not to my face!  Not that I would accept it, anyway. 

Anyway, I have a couple of expectations I realize I will have to adjust. 

Expectation: When I call (infrequently), act happy to hear from me.  Assuming you pick up, don't tell me to go away, every week, because one of the grandkids is in the same county.  I get tired of going to voicemail.  You can't take ten minutes?  Really?  It's so bad, I don't even call, at all, during the summer, because, if I do get through, it's "Oh, we're so busy, we don't have time to talk".  I have been ordered to call at a certain time, once a week, only, yet when I do they are "busy", every time. 

"Oh, I read all about you on Facebook."  Nice to know you have something to chatter about with your friends.  I guess REAL, human, interaction, is out of the question. 

I remember visiting my grandmother during the summer.  I also remember she took time to talk to EACH of her kids, every week, regardless. 

Adjustment: 1.  Wait for THEM to call me.  I may just do that.  It's been over a month without a peep on their end.  Oh, excuse me, I got a text, but more on that later. 

2.  Just accept I am not important to them, except as "something" to talk about with their friends.  "You'll never guess what Heather did this week" (straight off my Facebook update).   When it comes to kids, travel, and especially grandkids, I will always come in last.  (I am practical, and sad, not bitter)

3.  Block them from my Facebook and see how long it takes them to notice. 

Not sure about the answer on that.  I'll have to pray on it. 

Expectation: If I am having a crisis, please respond.  I don't need your money, I don't need you to beat anyone up.  I need to cry on your shoulder for 5 minutes, be told I am brave, I am strong, I am kind, I am doing God's will.  Tell me you are praying.  Then I will go away until the next crisis, probably at least a year later, if not longer. 

When I had a crisis last week, and called for help, I was texted back 12 hours later and told they were "busy" but were "sure I was handling it".  I forgot the grandkids were in town. 

I contacted someone else, who acts as the family social worker.  She may read this.  I don't fault her.  She really is busy.  She probably did read the blog and saw I had things under control.   Like I said, I don't blame her. 

I'm not asking to move back in (never!).  I'm not asking you to pay my bills (Ron does that).  For God's sake, I didn't even ask for money when Ron got run over and I was about to be evicted!

Apparently my aunt passed the hat, but I didn't ask.

Anyway, I have been dealing with all this on top of the existing depression.

I have come to the depressing realization, I can't count on them in a crisis.  They did OK, considering, back in 2011.  Ron had a horrific blackout and became threatening.  I had to leave.  My aunt picked me up (like I said, she's clear).  I talked to my Dad every day while I was sorting things out, for a couple of days total.  He was very supportive.  Someone actually had my back, for a change, instead of trying to stick a knife in it. 

That all evaporated the minute I went back home. 

To quote the commercial "Like it never even happened". 

Depressing and damned sad, I think. 

Ron's family wasn't much better; their treatment of him so criminal he declared them all dead.  He has really proceeded that way; as though they all died in a horrific accident.  I sure don't miss them but I feel bad for him. 

I really thought his family was "better". 

In both our cases, those who helped the most were those with no, or minimal, blood ties.  Which leads me to a line I heard this morning. 

We got up, went to work, came home.  Work was pretty uneventful. 

As we left, someone asked if we were leaving "already" and we told him the machines were stuffed.  He gave us "permission" to leave.  :p 

I got home and I turned on the TV.  I decided to watch "Supernatural". 

Dean and Sam were talking about their maternal grandfather.  Sam felt bad about what he had done. 

"Blood doesn't make family, " Dean said "They have to earn it.".  

Well said.