Saturday, May 24, 2014

My complaints and regrets about my upbringing upon reflection

Life, and The Importance of Being A Mean Parent Sometimes

When you've raised someone to be lazy and dependent, you can't expect them to suddenly do everything for themselves. It's hard. I'm trying. 
I remember being brought toothbrushes and toothpaste with a washcloth to bed because I was too tired or too comfortable to get up and go brush my teeth. There was a time I had 10 cavities at once. I wonder why. 
I slept in the same bed as my parents until I was 10, and then my mom slept with me in my bed until I was too big and I kicked her out.
My dad was the only one who could or did ever effectively discipline me, but even that was rare because he didn't like to discipline. He often yelled though, which when I was crying, made me cry more.
My mom's disability and my dad's poor example made it hard if not impossible to learn how to respect my mom. 
Once, only maybe 4 years ago, I left a birthday party early--of a friend who lived far away, and I hardly ever got to see anymore-- in order to get home in time to harvest crops on Farmville before they wilted. And that was okay. But it wasn't. It shouldn't have been. 
At times, I feel like my parents never disciplined me, never made me suffer or deal with not getting my way in order to instill good habits and morals into me. I feel like my parents, especially my mom, never prepared me for the world. My mom really couldn't. With her mental disability, she has an ongoing struggle to be able to mentally support herself in life, let alone raise a child. In a way, through the years since she gave birth to me, she has grown and become so much stronger and more self-sufficient because of me,  as welk as my father. 

But, I grew up disliking adults. I'm prideful. I've learned that adults are often never fair. Nor should they always be. I am weak and pathetic, crying and complaining more than I need because I feel sorry for myself when things go wrong, instead of toughing it out. Weak and pathetic because I got used to being catered to. Sometimes by my mom, and even my dad. He was partial to electronics, and gaming, and entertainment, believing that I should have good computers and good time on them. Gaming was inspiring. My mom didn't like making me do anything I didn't want to. I'm not sure why. It was her mentality, and often things slipped through. Now I'm a Junior in High School; soon to be a Senior. Suddenly, I am expected to know stuff, to do everything for myself, take care of myself. It's reasonable. I am going to be completely on my own in one year. One. I feel, suddenly, like my childhood was a waste in that aspect. Never suffering consequences, or having any chores. Not doing dishes, my own laundry, or vacuuming my own room. I can't cook. My mom used to nag and nag about making me do some kind of chores, but never followed through. She could never bring herself to be strong about anything. I wish she had. Now, I know it is true. Parents do know better. I was lazy. Raised a princess, and I'm sorry.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love my parents. My mother is kind and compassionate, and my dad is smart and creative. They are both inspiring, and loving people. I am blessed. I often reflect on my childhood with longing. Things seemed like a wonderful fairytale. I am thankful for all that they have done for me and showed me. They have molded a happy path and inspiration in my life to be artistic, loving, and creative. My dad introduced me to many fun and great things. M Night Shyamalan movies, Jurasic Park, the Alien movies. Star Wars. Etc.. Etc.. He is also a great bookworm which has also been very inspiring to me. They are talk-to-able about anything, as I think all parents should be, and they support me through thick and thin. There are many things I am thankful for in my parents.
What happened for me was basically this... My parents don't want to do everything for me anymore. They are tired and lazy too, so often things just don't get done if I don't help out. And I'm a perfectionist neat-nick. I like everything clean and put away, so I am learning to do things myself. In the end things work out. There is nothing horribly wrong here. I just live a life stumbling upon regrets or what could have been better. Been making mental lists about the kind of parent I want to be since I was 8 years old. Been making mental lists about things I want to do better my whole life. It's the kind of person I am. I'm conscientious, so it works.
Someday when I'm a mom, I will look ahead and talk to my kids about how they only have _ more years until they're an adult, until the whole world is looking at them to do everything themselves. I didn't get that preparation. My parents were friends.