Me vs Myself and I

There is a war going on in my head. I think it goes on 24/7 most the time it is just background noise. I was going to write about Nick Fulgham and how I can totally understand what it's like to feel like you have the wrong body. In my case I don't really care, I understand how others do though. Anyway it got me to thinking about my family. My family is really messed up. Lots of drug addicts, abuse, so many kinds of dysfunction it's hard to wrap my head around. But, what we don't have is a whole lot of bigots. My mother is though. Yeah, she would probably have a problem if one of us would have been gay or transgendered.

So, this is where the war comes in. Most my family is pretty tolerant. My mother wasn't. I feel grateful that most my family is tolerant and that if say I decided (won't happen just saying) to get gender reassignment they would be well not surprised and probably okay with it. My deceased mother would have freaked out and been okay eventually I think. So, there is some gratitude there that my family is not completely f'd up. But, on the other hand there was so much wrong going on and it did totally f up my life. But, that really was mostly the way my mom and dad were with each other. The violence I have seen and had directed at me was terrible and the scars are deep. It's very hard to reconcile those things. Most abusers are not the open minded type. But, my father was very abusive and neglectful, yet also open minded. He was not religious, he was apolitical as far as I know, he had all kinds of friends, and he wouldn't be upset with any of us kids for coming out (if any of us was gay), or being liberal or conservative, or getting into an interracial marriage or anything like that.
But, he beat my mother frequently. He beat us as children. He would spend the money needed for groceries on fishing gear and hunting gear. He wasn't home near enough.

So, I am very angry about my childhood. Myself is very grateful it wasn't worse. Me is off somewhere swinging back and forth trying to calm everything down. It literally feels like a hundred people are talking at once and some children are off running around playing and some other children are off rocking in a corner trying to make it all stop. So, yeah it was f'd up. And the worlds greatest dad who would tolerate any kind of expression of ourselves and who would play with us and who would take us places with him and who could talk about anything was also a monster.

It gets worse though. My mother on the other hand was a screamer. She was a bigot. She was actually quite a horrid person. But, she was also the victim of too much violence. She didn't deserve it. I really wouldn't care if she called my dad every name in the book and if she also was verbally abusive to us kids and she didn't do anything to contribute to running the house. Don't care so much it would be like talking to a wall if you wanted to make me care. If my dad had a problem with that the solution was pretty simple, leave. Take us with him if he felt that my mom was dangerous. He had lots of family and lots of places to hide us so many if he wanted to my mom would never find us. Or him for that matter. But, that is so very far from what he did. He hit her beat her til her arm broke once. Bruised her face more than once. Pulled out hair more than once. And when we (children) made him or my mom angry we would get beaten with a belt. I don't know how many times. I never liked my mother very much. It wasn't much of a secret. I loved her, but I didn't like her. I wanted to protect her. I wanted her to leave my dad. Or I wanted him to leave. They were toxic together. So there is a war going on here. That I wanted to protect someone I didn't particularly like and someone who was abusive herself, but she was also a victim. She was tragic. She loved my dad to the point it made her sick. I am quite certain that was the thing that caused her to end up with diabetes which may have made it impossible for her to fight the cancer that took her life. Even though I think my mother should have had consequences for her behavior, the things she did to me and my siblings, I don't think my dad should have been the one to decide what those consequences were. Aside from reserving his right to leave the relationship. So, yes I am torn here. I am upset that my mother was beaten. Myself thinks that she shouldn't have stayed. Me knows that women stay in violent relationships for a lot of complicated reasons and I had the same problem. And all the children are pissed.