I have a good great thing going right now. I’m busy as all hell with work, school, family stuff, and writing, but somehow I cram in things like gardening, lots of bonding time with Rob and Riley, and a kick-ass social life. I really couldn’t ask for a better scenario – which is why I’m really angry and resentful.
Let me back up a bit.
I didn’t want to move out here. I wanted to stay in NYC, work, get my nursing degree, and raise my baby in the city that never sleeps. I wanted the option of having a diner date with one of my amazing friends at 2 a.m. I wanted to stay in my neighborhood in Brooklyn, where celebrities live only a stone’s throw away and chic bistros line the streets. I wanted glamor and class, not some country-bumpkin lifestyle.
But Rob wanted me to move out here, and at the time, I took his coercing as a sign that he really didn’t want us to be together. In addition to that, my folks kept badgering me to make the move. They said it would be best for me and my son: no problems [read: no drama with Rob], no distractions, and no pressure to pay ridiculously exorbitant bills. They said that I didn’t need to work; that all I had to do was concentrate on being a mom, do well in school, and write. They would foot the bill for me and my son, come what may. At the time, sick and tired of having to use a decoder ring to figure out the meaning and intention behind Rob’s every word, and chock full of post-pregnancy hormones, I was all too happy to let my parents take care of me. So I hauled ass to the other side of the world and attempted to sort out my life as a single parent.
Then I started working. Nothing big – just a few articles here and there, blog fodder, blah blah blah. If I was still living in NYC, my earnings would be nothing to bat an eyelash at. But I was here, and with the money I earned, I was able to be independent. No need for help from Mom and Dad. It felt good to know that the cute kicks on my kid’s feet were there because I bought them.
At the same time, Rob and I worked things out. Eventually, he moved out here, and life became a fairy tale.
And then my mom decided to kick my dad out of the house, and everything got shot to hell.
For almost a decade, I’ve been telling my mom to divorce my dad. I’ve been coaching her and supporting her and telling her that she deserves better. I’ve been willing to get her counseling, therapy – whatever she needs. I even paid some of her bills and was willing to take on the responsibility of the mortgage. And when things really took a turn for the worst, and I caught my dad cheating for the umpteenth time, and he and I were thisclose to exchanging blows because of his infidelity? I told my mom that either he left the house or I left the house.
What did she say?
“So, when are you leaving?”
In retrospect, I’m actually very grateful for this little bit of drama because it was the turning point to my life. It allowed me to move to Brooklyn, spread my wings, get knocked up, and decide to become a mom. But otherwise? It was a really awful time.
And now, when things are the best they’ve ever been and I’m completely and utterly HAPPY, what happens? Mom decides to heed the advice I gave her non-stop for over a decade.
NOW, when there’s so much at stake and she’s older and all alone and without a support system.
NOW, when my dad’s financial situation is a big ol’ question mark.
NOW, when I can’t help but worry myself to tears about the well-being of my parents.
NOW, when it’s crazy-hard to “be there” for them, and did you catch what I said a couple sentences ago about no support system? Yeah. The both of them. All alone. Because they never learned to trust, and they have no friends.
And their worlds are falling apart.
And I can’t do ANYTHING.
And when I try to do something, it feels like such a hassle because C’MON. COME. THE. FUCK. ON. FOR REAL. I know the saying “Better late than never”, but really? After you’ve made me change my plans, and played on my heartache to make me move to the other side of the globe, and completely sold me on this life that I have? NOW, YOU PULL THE RUG FROM UNDER ME?
My mom’s having a hard time paying off the house in NYC and the house in the Philippines. This means that my life is wobbling on the precipice of disaster. Because if she can’t pay off this house, my son and I are kind of lost and my life as I know it is over. We have options, but none of them are exactly stellar. And all that time, money, and energy that I’ve used on living here, going to nursing school here, and making happy a life here? It’s all pretty much worthless.
To halfway remedy the problem, Rob has to move back to NYC and help my mom out with finances. This is going to cause so much stress on our relationship, and this fairy tale that I’ve got going on is coming to an end, and I can’t help but be a resentful brat for all that’s happening.
Because my mom FINALLY woke up and smelled the broken (or, lack of) condoms.
Because my dad is a douchebag of a husband but the bestest of fathers.
Because instead of following my gut and standing on my own two feet in NYC, I trusted my parents and decided to let them take care of me.
I can’t help but feel like I should have known better. And I know that I have no one to blame but myself. And, on the real tip, if it came to it and I wanted to, I could support myself and Riley through my writing and we could stay here and make the yummiest lemonade possible.
It just sucks. Royally. Because for once, I thought Life had handed me a nice, shiny, sweet apple.