The Consequence of Mind Games



Me...before I learned
 the mind games. : - )

 Regardless of how proud my family is of what I've done with my life, my education hinders having a significant relationship with them. I'm not ashamed to be smart. Sometimes I feel like I was born to pay attention; people who don't pay attention to behaviors they don't like are bound to repeat them. I saw a lot of things in my life that I hope never to relive in any way...so I paid attention, read, wrote, talked to others, listened to them and tried to help the pain I felt growing up in a home that was silent ...except for all the yelling that solved nothing. I'm not proud to say I still yell too much, and I'm angry about a lot of things. I'm trying to move forward, and it's hard to do that on my own. Regardless of how much I pray about something, it helps me to talk about things with the people at the root of the problem. This is a problem in itself, however, especially when they don't believe they have done anything "wrong" and that my intentions are to "control their minds with my superior intelligence." LOL! But I'm serious...

A perfect example is what happened with my father. See if you can follow this interesting branch on my family tree. The man I call my father is actually my stepfather. When he and my mother married, he probably thought I had more to gain than he. I am, after all, the product of (to quote my mother) a "junkie." Yesterday was the first time I ever heard her say this. I knew my sperm donor was a hustler, womanizer, coward, liar, selfish momma's boy and all-around deadbeat, among many other things. To hear him called a "junkie," however, gave me a feeling of finality that I never felt before. There is no helping a junkie. Their addiction and the selfishness and self-centeredness that comes along with it leave no room for help because a junkie believes everyone else is the problem. My junkie sperm donor believes me and my mother are the problem...so that's the end. I guess I'll see him at the next Bruce family funeral...and eventually...at his own. But I digress...

My father (stepfather) is nothing like him. He is a fairly intelligent man, which I considered a gift. Finally someone to talk to about things that mattered to me. Perhaps he could understand me...help me. What I found, however, is that he thinks I'm "runnin' game" when I try to tell him about the things that bother me. Even though he is a great man, he is overbearing and not very open to experiences that do not fit into his personal philosophy of how life should be. He is quietly judgemental, usually voicing his diapproval in his tone and/or word choice. It's aggressive and whenever possible, I avoid talking to him about issues that would cause us to disagree. It angers me that someone who has "seen so much of the world" can be so close-minded and defensive.

I couldn't avoid him yesterday, though. My mother told him I wanted to talk to them about a very important decision I had to make for my future. She lied. I didn't want to talk to them about the decision because I really didn't want their opinions. My parents don't understand letting their feet dangle. They're security nuts, like most parents. They don't understand that every child has his/her own motivations, dreams and ambitions. They don't understand me in general, which I accept. I have no other choice because they are done growing...and as long as God is pleased with what they do, they couldn't care less for anyone else's opinion (I say that with a tone of uneasiness). Anyway, I feel like I got suckered into talking to them about what I plan to do and my father, with his usual tone of "the smartest man in the world," says something along the lines of  Okay. If that's your decision, you have to deal with the consequences of it. This was a powerplay, and it pissed me off. He knew just what he was doing. As the "child' in the situation, I was just supposed to let it slide, but it pissed me off. Parents know that most obedient children hate to disappoint them. His tone was disappointment. He used the word "consequences." The word "consequences" carries such negative undertone. It connotes punishment; "rewards" is the word people use when they want to express positive outcomes. In church, you rarely hear a preacher say, "Embrace the consequences of following God." The undertone is all wrong. My mistake was telling my father this. I told him that the word "consequence" carried a negative undertone (and that meant he wasn't being supportive, but I didn't say that part). His response was to tell me I was playing mind games with him, and that I can't play him mentally. What? I'm talking language here, not psychology. That was the moment we lost each other. He didn't like me calling him on what he was doing and tried to place that blame on me. I hated that I ever came over. The conversation did not end well.

It was the education that hindered the communication. I guess I shouldn't have stood up to his bullying, but I wasn't going to be railroaded anymore, so I pushed back. And though he threw the first blow (mentally) he accused me of trying to play him (the second blow). Truth is, I have never had and never will have the power to play mind games with my parents. My mother worked hard to give me the education she knew I needed (though now I'm criticized for it); my father did some other man's job and helped to raise his kid. I owe them too much to ever have power enough to play them.

I guess I should just keep my education to my damn self. And from now on, I'll only discuss the "consequences" of living my life from the winner's circle.