Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Imprisonment vs. Freedom

So, I knew when I signed up for it that this study abroad thing would change me. That was, naturally, the goal. I wanted to gain perspective on myself, my family, and my future.

I’m rather astonished by what I’ve discovered. It’s not pretty. Disturbing realizations about my family and myself have left me feeling kind of storm-tossed. Things I took for granted to be true are revealing themselves to be nothing more than wishful thinking. I hate taking risks, because I’m afraid of getting hurt, but what I didn’t consider was that I was choosing certain pain over uncertain pain. Thinking I was safe at home was a lie I told myself, which is why I ensconced myself in my room and refused to leave my house, when I should have been getting a job and looking for an apartment so I could move the hell out. Well, now my hand’s been forced: I was officially disowned last week, which means when I return to California, I will not be going home. There’s no home to go to.

Strangely, I am—at the moment—not bothered overmuch by this (it comes and goes). While I’ll admit the financial hurdles I’ll have to overcome are daunting, the truth is, I haven’t really lost anything. My relationship with my father has always been an utter mess, and my relationship with my mother is strained because of that. I’m tired of the fighting and the ugly feelings and the guilt. It’s become clear to me that this may even save my sanity (though it’s likely to ruin my credit). They can live in their hysterically chaotic world alone together; I intend to escape that. At the moment I don’t know what my plan is for finding a place, but I have some time yet, and I’ll figure it out. It’s an unfortunate theme of my life that I only seem able to grow and thrive when sorely tested. But that’s okay; I have no illusions that it will be easy, but at the same time...I’m not as scared as I thought I’d be.

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