Monthly Archives: November 2010

Enough already.

I’m a friggin’ mess. I’ve been “home” only 20 minutes and I can’t stop bursting into tears for minutes at a time. Who the hell even knows the real reason anymore. I don’t know what to do, but this has to stop. Without drinking my face off.

I want to be tough. I want to have no emotion. I want comfort. Fuck, I have no idea what I want anymore.

I seriously need to get my shit together. Stat.


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When love and hate collide.

How easy (or difficult) is it to combine a (future) profession with a relationship that all but completely contradicts said profession?  For either situation to change would lead to the harbor of resentment for at least one party, wouldn’t it? Almost certainly.

I want to be a psychologist. I’ve always wanted to be a psychologist. And lately, with the realization of the long-term implications of becoming one, I have been considering changing my mind. I honestly do not want to spend the next four years avoiding one major area of clinical psychology because I’m afraid of what decisions it will make me make.  I have a very observant eye, and I am now aware of some things that have been considerably downplayed in my life to date. Things that will not easily coalesce with my intended future. So what are my choices? (1) change someone else, which I swore never to do again; (2) change my profession, which is starting to look like the easiest option; (3) get over it. Truth be told, I tried option 3, and it’s not going so well. If anything, it’s getting worse, mostly due to the polarity of the situation. There’s a fourth option, and the only other one I’ve considered, but that one hurts too much and seems like a warped defense mechanism.  But really, is it?  If I don’t want to change jobs (not to mention how resentful that could make me later in life), don’t want to change a person and can’t get over it, what’s left? Why make it more difficult later? But every time I try to pull myself back, away from what I love, I fail. I don’t want to, so why should I have to? Because, that little voice in my head says, it won’t work as it is, best to cut your losses. And people wonder why I drink so much; I drown that stupid voice.

So I obviously think about this. A lot. Sometimes I all but cry myself to sleep over it (I had a bad Friday.) And sometimes it doesn’t bother me (I had a good Saturday). But it’s not going to go away. And my biggest fear? That it is black-and-white.


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You’re looking through me.

I wonder how it’s possible to keep a portion of myself away from everyone I know.  Everyone gets something; nobody gets everything. There’s got to be something to that.  What use is that?  If I do it, it has to hold some sort of emotional/defense value, but I’ve yet to figure out what it is. I guess it could be as simple as the parental authoritarianism and poor attachment styles I experienced as a kid, but it seems too easy to just put it all on that.  I still get to make my own choices, as I have most of my life.  I just chose to let people see what I want them to see.  And evidently…that hasn’t changed.

I guess maybe Rob and/or Chris got most of me.  But it turns out (as per Dave’s suggestion), I have OCD personality disorder and need to control everything.  Both of them would attest to that.  So maybe it’s better I just keep myself to myself to save everyone from the controlling shitstorm that is Linda.  I know, I know, individual differences and all that, but there’s got to be people out there just like me, right?

But really, who am I?  Nobody knows.

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I think I’ll stay.

I don’t really want to go home tomorrow. There’s a slew of small reasons, none of which are enough to get me to stay in Philly, but…wow, I’m a little amazed at my own apprehension.

I can’t even get into it. I just…want to stay in my bed this Thanksgiving.  I want life to be easy; it’s easy there.

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Not my favorite first.

So, at 5 1/2 months, I think we had our first fight tonight. Sort of. I also think it wasn’t really a fight, so much as an unintentional tiff, but I guess I still had some blaming to do and he still had some defending to do. I then decided to stay out all night and drink (I guess it doesn’t count as a method to forget if you buy yourself a glass of Glenlivet Nadurra) until he left my brain, but he never did. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t try to make amends when I got home. So I did, and we’re fine, but I’m still a little sad ’cause (a) it happened at all, and (b) I can’t end the whole thing with a hug and a real feeling like it’s nothing and we’re good.  ‘Cause really, it was nothing. I was still cranky about being alone all weekend, and he wasn’t done defending why he didn’t need to be here three times in one week, especially when I am planning on going home in three days. He’s right, and I knew it all along. But it doesn’t change what it makes me in fear of for the future. I hope it comes up in person, ’cause I really want him to understand why this little tiny insignificant thing made me shut down for two whole days.

In the end, I spent an entire night trying to be someone else, trying to forget him (or not, considering my drink of choice), and the only thing I could do was wish he were with me.  I will never spend another day in my life thinking about anyone but him.  He holds my heart and my soul, and even though I didn’t say it yet today, he’s perfect and I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

I love you, Stefan Gaudio.

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It’s not reason number 1…

…but it’s a reason.

Not only did I not want to be in a relationship of any kind, but I most certainly didn’t want to be in a long-distance one.

I’m not fucking stupid. I remember how I felt that one weekend Chris didn’t want to drive in the snow to come see me.  I didn’t think it’d be different this time either. And I was about 80% sure it wouldn’t hurt any less.

All of my girly irrational bits are at work, obviously. I can tell by the leaking. Have I mentioned how much I fucking hate leaking?  On top of it all, I’ve had a horrible stomachache for two days straight, which I imagine has nothing to do with the outside world, seeing as I don’t leave my box of an apartment unless I have to, which I generally don’t.

So what do I do when shit gets too heavy and I want to scream, cry or kick something really really really hard? I take daddy’s advice and man up. Really, I just get mad at myself and I use his poor advice to fuel the unhealthy fire, but it usually works, albeit temporarily. So I get mad, I get hard, and I get cold. None of those are things I want to be, but they’re a less severe alternative to pain. Almost anything is.

As always, I’ll calm down later. But for now…IJDGAF. And I hate everything, present circumstances included. The good news is I think about it way less often then I used to. The bad news is, I still wonder if I’d be better off alone.

Edit: I figured out how I managed before. I drank a lot.

Edit 2: For the record, Chris, it had nothing to do with attention, and everything to do with pain. The pain, however, might not have been completely justified. (Just sayin’, ’cause I swore it was about the attention as well, but now I know it wasn’t.)

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I wanted to cry all night. From 6:15 p.m. until the deed was done, I wanted to let all the hurt out. Something about a camel and a straw, though.

My poor brother. Poor me. He’s going to have the same childhood I did, with less support from people around him because so many of the kids on Long Island suck as human beings. I just wish there was something I could do. I’ll write letters, but never with any certainty that they’ll be received. I’ll get pictures, but they’ll never tell me a story.

We finally hit The Lecture tonight. Parenting styles.

I had to “woosah” like 9 times in an hour lest I burst into tears. Here’s the breakdown (from

The Four Parenting Styles

  1. Authoritarian Parenting
    In this style of parenting, children are expected to follow the strict rules established by the parents. Failure to follow such rules usually results in punishment. Authoritarian parents fail to explain the reasoning behind these rules. If asked to explain, the parent might simply reply, “Because I said so.” These parents have high demands, but are not responsive to their children. According to Baumrind, these parents “are obedience- and status-oriented, and expect their orders to be obeyed without explanation” (1991).
  2. Authoritative Parenting
    Like authoritarian parents, those with an authoritative parenting style establish rules and guidelines that their children are expected to follow. However, this parenting style is much more democratic. Authoritative parents are responsive to their children and willing to listen to questions. When children fail to meet the expectations, these parents are more nurturing and forgiving rather than punishing. Baumrind suggests that these parents “monitor and impart clear standards for their children’s conduct. They are assertive, but not intrusive and restrictive. Their disciplinary methods are supportive, rather than punitive. They want their children to be assertive as well as socially responsible, and self-regulated as well as cooperative” (1991).
  3. Permissive Parenting
    Permissive parents, sometimes referred to as indulgent parents, have very few demands to make of their children. These parents rarely discipline their children because they have relatively low expectations of maturity and self-control. According to Baumrind, permissive parents “are more responsive than they are demanding. They are nontraditional and lenient, do not require mature behavior, allow considerable self-regulation, and avoid confrontation” (1991). Permissive parents are generally nurturing and communicative with their children, often taking on the status of a friend more than that of a parent.
  4. Uninvolved Parenting
    An uninvolved parenting style is characterized by few demands, low responsiveness and little communication. While these parents fulfill the child’s basic needs, they are generally detached from their child’s life. In extreme cases, these parents may even reject or neglect the needs of their children.

The Impact of Parenting Styles

What effect do these parenting styles have on child development outcomes? In addition to Baumrind’s initial study of 100 preschool children, researchers have conducted numerous other studies than have led to a number of conclusions about the impact of parenting styles on children.

  • Authoritarian parenting styles generally lead to children who are obedient and proficient, but they rank lower in happiness, social competence and self-esteem.
  • Authoritive parenting styles tend to result in children who are happy, capable and successful (Maccoby, 1992).
  • Permissive parenting often results in children who rank low in happiness and self-regulation. These children are more likely to experience problems with authority and tend to perform poorly in school.
  • Uninvolved parenting styles rank lowest across all life domains. These children tend to lack self-control, have low self-esteem and are less competent than their peers.

So where do I fit into all of this?  Without any question, I can ascertain that my father’s method of parenting is authoritarian. In class, when the question came up of “which parent’s style holds more weight?” my teacher suggested that research pointed to that parent which the child interacts with more. I, however, disagree. When your other parent is somewhere between uninvolved and permissive (mostly because the authoritarian parent was authoritarian over their spouse as well), it doesn’t matter who you interact with more. The one that does the most damage is the one that gets the emphasis. Then again, I’m often an individual difference.

And now…my brother is trapped in the same fate. My father’s parenting style hasn’t changed (I would know; when I commented on it, he “punished” me by banning me from his family), and my stepmother is, unquestionably, permissive. She claims to pick her battles, but I’m not entirely sure she’s picking enough of them.

I wouldn’t give two shits if he didn’t mean the absolute world to me. And I suppose my father’s plan backfired, because now I have no additional information to contradict my original opinion due to my expulsion, and I’m still sitting here writing about it publicly. And I wouldn’t feel like such an authority on the subject matter if I didn’t live through it and hate every single second of it, both now and then. “Because I said so,” isn’t a reason. Yelling my name in a scary tone doesn’t help me adjust autonomously. Fuck my childhood and everything about it. But don’t ruin Kellen’s.

So here’s my new “blackboard discussion post”: What do you do when parents think their parenting styles are just dandy, and their child’s low self-esteem is attributable to something more internal?  The epitome of perpetuation.

Now that I’ve successfully avoided discussing the straw, me, my low self-esteem and poor self-regulation issues are going to have yet another glass of wine, try to find something more mind-erasing to consume or occupy the next few hours, and hope for some of sleep before the last class of the week.

Good night, internets.

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