Written @ 12:26 p.m. on 2007-09-13
Dream
I had a dream I was up at the camp, and was visiting with people that I used to play with there as a child. In the dream I was an adult, and I was feeling intimidated by their ivy league success. I was raised to be a member of the "ruling class" and I turned out to be such a punk. Still, in my dream, as in reality, my inferiority complex was all in my head and everyone was being extremely nice to me.
Someone pointed out that I looked an odd color, and did I feel well? They ordered me chicken soup in case it was a cold, icecream and pickles in case I was pregnant, and strong coffee in case it was a hangover. All at once! I thought that was a funny and kind gesture.
When I woke up, I looked in the mirror, and I was indeed an odd color. I think I'm sick, again. FUCK. Why can't I get things balanced properly in my life?
I know exactly what this dream was about. I made my elder daughter do the bonus questions on her homework. She threw a big fit (she's been rather bitchy lately). I told her that she was much smarter than the other kids in her class, and she had an obligation to stretch herself. If she did what everybody else is doing all she is going to get is what everybody else has. She must learn now that in life one must always go above and beyond.
"Tell her, B."
"Uh, yer mom says you ought to do the bonus. It's good to stretch your mind and stuff."
Didn't your parents make you do bonus and stuff? I asked him later.
"No," he said.
I was always pushed to be the best. Always. ALWAYS. I always did the bonus. I'm realizing that "doing the bonus" is a large part of who I am. It never occured to me that other people's parents didn't expect them to grow up to be the president of the united states. That is not an exaggeration. Those were the type of people I was supposed to grow up to be. That is the type of person my childhood friends are on the track to becoming.
I, on the other hand, clearly am not. I walked through the door that says,"FUCK UPS! THIS WAY!" when I met my ex.
My grandfather's memorial service is next month, and my father's side of the family are all these cold, soulless ivy league types. They vacation at mountain climbing in Chile, and I think that their faces are permanently afixed in the looking-down-one's-nose position. They are tall, blonde, fit and look like they just stepped out of the boat at crew practice. They are not fun, kind or interesting to talk to. They are constantly trying to put other people down to make themselves look better. Maybe I shouldn't say this sort of thing about people I'm related to, but they never, ever stretched their hand out to me in an aunt and uncle and cousin sort of way. They were too busy tsking at us because my branch of the family is all fat.
So, I don't want to BE them. It looks kind of miserable, but I don't want to be judged by them, either. They will view me as pathetic, single mother, poor, directionless and overweight, so much potential squandered by raising those kids in redneck upstate ny. I know I'm having more fun in life than they are, and I shouldn't care what they think, but there is a whole gang of them. I'm intimidated.
I'm supposed to be mourning the loss of a grandfather that never said two words to me, in the company of people who make me feel inferior.
So, no one MAKES me feel inferior. I allow myself to feel inferior, I know. I can make myself into whatever I want to be. If I want to be an ivy leaguer, there is still time to marry well and vacation on Nantucket. With all of their excess, they certainly don't seem very happy. I just don't fit in with my family.
I just need to find my balance.