My parents and I don't really get along. That is no surprise to anybody, except maybe my Mom. I'm not sure.
So it's been a little while since the last post. There is a story behind that. Let me see...
A little while ago at Western State it was parents weekend. When I decided to transfer here I didn't really tell my parents. Well, until I sold my car in an effort to acquire one that was more suited to the weather and mountains. Then they found out. I didn't invite them to visit the school with me, didn't get their opinion, none of that. But I have wanted them to see the school. I did want them to see that I was doing well and that I could succeed in an academic environment.
If you ask them, they'll tell you that they have always known that I should succeed. One of their favorite games throughout middle and high school was holding standardized test scores in one hand and my report card in the other. Moving on in front of the other they would pointedly say, "THIS doesn't match THIS". (standardized test scores were decent)
So I invited them to come up for Parents Weekend. I told them that they should see the school at least once before I graduate.
The first big challenge to this weekend was preparing them for the fact that everyone calls me Alex. See, my name technically isn't Alex, I've just been going by it for the past 5 or 6 years. They don't call me Alex, they don't want others to call me Alex. My dad may or may not have a history of yelling at people (my boss) on the phone when she asked for "Alex". Actually it went pretty well, no freak-outs in that regard at all.
So they come up, see the campus, have a good time. We all go to the football game and right in the middle of the 3rd quarter my mom decides it's a great time to tell me yet again how much she hates the fact that I am "choosing" to be gay and that "I know it's a sin" and how she is "just waiting for me to wake up and realize how much damage I'm doing to myself". She even had the audacity to drag my little brothers and sisters into the equation! She told me that "they hate you for doing this". I couldn't believe it! I did have some pretty good remarks, but those don't need to be posted here.
I don't know why, but for some reason that really hurt. To my core those remarks stung and stuck.
It took me most approximately 5 years to even acknowledge that I was queer. It took longer to be able to say it out loud, longer still to be ok and realize that I can be a good person and queer at the same time. It took separation from my parents, a complete examination of what I believe, why, what I want to do, who I want to be. I re-created my life and I enjoy what I do.
I thought that my parents were getting so much better. I thought that they had made so much progress from when I first told them. Turns out I was wrong.
I don't know what happened. My life, my personality, my identity all came crashing down (seemingly) when my mom said those hateful, hurtful things. I became totally despondent. I was almost the definition of apathy. I went to class, barely. Socially withdrew from everything, stopped caring, stopped working on everything. I barely functioned. I knew that this could kill my semester academically, and I knew that I didn't want that to happen, but I just didn't care.
So now I'm feeling better. I'm attempting to dig myself out of this hole. I'm in big trouble as far as my classes go. I don't know how to tell my profs what happened, why I stopped... well, everything...for so long. Do they need to know? Would they care?
Here is the question: If I had this crazy depressed episode just from a day spent with my mother, what will happen at thanksgiving?