*(Disclaimer: one-sided, entirely: my side.)

I went home for the Thanksgiving holiday. My sister, her husband and his sister and my niece went home too (home isn't home, but actually the city where the bulk of my immediate family and grandparents relocated to in the 90's.) It was bitter sweet. I wanted to cry at the airport leaving just thinking of the lack of support/nurturing from my parents towards my brother. I just got drunk at Chilies off of Margaritas instead, it numbed the pain pretty well.

It angers all of us at how complacent and non-committal they are and how blatantly obvious it is that they don't want anything to do with their kids if they're still kids or if they need anything. We all have jobs, we don't need anything from them because they've forced us to be independent, heck, they've been asking us for money since our single digit ages, but it still angers/saddens us in different degrees at how it affects us.

My sister pointed out that when I went to get my mom from work, when we came back to the house, she didn't even come see her one and only granddaughter that she's only seen 3 times. She just gave us the deuce and went to her room. Okay, so ignore us, but at least try to act like u care about a baby who didn't do nothing to you. I know u tired, but c'mon! We joke about the behaviors and actions of our parents but we don't ever talk about how it affects us and our choices in our adult lives. I know it's made me how I am, and I know my sister is how she is because of them cuz she saidto her husband: Maybe u can understand me more now that you see where i came from.

No wonder why I cried so hard when I left my friends families house in California back in August... they were so caring and loving to me. Someone they didn't even know! Some stranger off the street, but they housed me and fed me until I couldn't think straight. When I got on the plane going home, i was so touched by the love that I obviously cannot get from my own family I bawled! I'm trying to keep it together now, but it's difficult. I got finals to study for and parties to celebrate at and I really can't dwell on this right now cuz i need the energy for the positive things.

I may have to make a call to my mom and tell her how i feel. But i know how that'll go. " I didn't know thats how you took it. I was tired. Your brother will be fine, he doesn't need my help: just look how u and ur sister turned out!" Then she'll get defensive and blame it on the way she was raised with her parents, like she's some kind of cyborg with no capacity to think on her own. Excuses. She'll get hurt and she'll express that and then it'll be another year till we see them again. When my brother is out the house, I won't be going back for a while. I have no reason because there's no real positive interaction when I go home.

"So how are your parents?" "I guess they're good, but I'm not happy with what I saw." Nothing has changed.

Crying... again...

There are the times where i look back on myself as a child and I weep. I am saddened by the assumptions I made from the actions of my parents. I mourn for the child that got lost along the way. I was so loving, caring, emotional, free-spirited. I wanted to do nothing more than love and be loved. Why couldn't life just be that easy. I was shut down repeatedly by my parents, specifically my mom.

I don't blame her, though. I cry for her as much as I cry for me because i know she was raised by strict parents from the Caribbean. They themselves, as she explained to me just last week had rough upbringings: grandma wasn't wanted by her parents and given up by a nasty split-tongued mother that was biracial back when it wasn't cool. grandpa was raised by a dictator father with an iron fist and too many children to know what to do with.

So, that loveless bond was passed down from generation to generation, almost guaranteed to be passed down when packaged with "Do as I say, not as I do" "Don't question your parents" and "Because I said so". Thankfully along with that bottomless heart, God blessed me with an uncanny sense of smell for bullshit and the courage to speak up (when you're far enough away NOT to get backslapped). As I got older, I questioned my parents when things didn't add up, but by that time it was too late: the scar tissue had grown over my heart. I've been picking it off the last few years. it took a while for me to start the process of breaking myself to build myself back up. It's not easy.

Big Girls Don't Cry

I don't know how that other crying post got away from me at the end. Short attention span, bless my heart!

I pull out a journal entry archive of Jan 23, 2007. Back when I was trying to free myself from mental bondage:

Today is January 23 2007

Penelope Cruz said when she was acting in a movie of another language:

"Oh so scary... I was always going to the bathroom to cry and coming back and trying to hide it"

So I was thinking if something is so scary
and makes you cry, why would you do it"
I dunno... If something made me cry like that
I wouldn't subject myself to it. Why? Because
of what it means to me when I cry. It shows
weakness. And vulnerability. You can't control
your emotions and you let someone get to you
and affect you that closely that u cry. But
apparently that's not the case with her. She
uses it because she is scared. Maybe it's
like peeing when drinking a lot of beer or
trying to hold smoke in when there's a fire.
If that's the case, then it's a release thing.

Maybe people like Penelope are so much more
in touch with their emotions. maybe life
is so much more different for someone
who can cry. What if I was really
stresed and about 60-90 percent
of my anxiety would be relieved through
crying. maybe I'm missing out on that.
So say If I went out and
cried. Then felt better. In my mind
I would think that ppl would be thinking
that im childish. That I cant be a grown
up and act accordingly. When i was
a child, crying was frowned upon.

My mom would tell us if we cried
"You better stop crying or I'll give
you something to cry for". I mean,
then you stop crying because the thought
the mere thought of your mother that
you love dearly more than anything will
give you unwarranted pain unjustified
pain over your crying, which by the
way isn't always controllable!

Oh, my God, are you serious? You can't be
serious? You would really hit me? That
would make me even more sad and I could
see myself crying even more.

It's like you're not allowed to cry over
your feelings. Not allowed. No emotions are
intense enough to warrant tears. Only
pain. Physical pain."