So a little over a week ago my mom came over to talk to me about my dad. I explained to her what happened and stuck to my guns that I don’t care how much “pain” my dad is in, child abuse is never okay.
She came back a few days later to say that my story didn’t match up with his–this implication being that my story was wrong. I reiterated what I’d said before: that she had a choice to believe the abuser or the abused, but his reasons don’t change the wrongness of what he did.
“He said you got in his face and screamed ‘Fuck you,’ and that when he held you down it was because you were trying to run away.”
“I’ve already stated that I didn’t get in his face and scream that, but even if I did it wouldn’t justify hitting a child less than half his size in the face. Second, I’m pretty sure running away from someone who just committed violence against you is a perfectly normal and rational reaction. Trapping an abuse victim with her abuser, however….”
She says she wants us all to go to counseling together, which I’m …. unsure of, at best. My parents have a habit of individually showing up to my house when I’m in disagreement with the other in order to try and convince me of whatever it is they want.
“Your dad doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what he says when he shows up after I disagree with you.”
“Well, I’ve never sent him over so he was telling the truth. He’d be upset if he knew I was here now.”
“He says that too. You guys are really good at tag-teaming this thing. I actually expected you to show up a few days earlier.”
They’d also be the ones paying whoever the counselor is, and I didn’t hear any talk of it being anyone but the three of us. Maybe they want my sister to come too, but I don’t think that makes me feel any more at ease. I’ve never had a good counseling or therapy session ever, so we can start there. Honest introspection has done way more for me than talking to some jerk in a chair who doesn’t actually listen to the words I’m using anyway.
(…”I won’t even go down a grocery store aisle with someone else in it because they always end up in the way and I don’t want to have to talk to anyone.”
“Why don’t you just say ‘excuse me’ if they’re in the way?”
“I literally just said I didn’t want to talk to them.”
“Well, that’s not really talking…”
“Um, yes it is. When words come out of your mouth, it is called ‘talking,’ which is why I used that word.”)
But also, I’m a grown up now. I shouldn’t have to attend counseling with my parents. Right? Like, that’s really flipping weird, right? I mean, I guess I can see how one should view it as a good thing–my family loves me and they want us to have a good relationship–but it feels an awful lot like they’re trying to keep or get control.
If anyone who knows nothing about my life and is therefore outside of my head completely wants to offer perspective, I’m open to hearing it. Doubt anyone made it this far in my ramblings, though. :)