Control

It’s a week ago since I left Geijer and Värmland for I don’t know how long. Maybe ever but I don’t think so. Surprisingly I didn’t cry though I felt touched by the tears I saw in Isa’s eyes and the extra shine I thought I saw in Dar’s. But I have to admit to a few moments when I was very close to shed a tear on the trip but those were for Isa’s obvoius watery eyes. If someone else is crying the chanses are I might cry unless I fight it. Normaly I only cry in touchy moments in books or films, if I’m alone that is. Otherwise I’ll most probably be smiling wickedly. I do have an image to look after...;)

Being home is manageable but not much more. Mom hopes that she finally got her menopause but it seems like she’s having constant PMS instead; dad and I are tip-toeing around her. So far my brother has managed to stay clear from the line of fire, but he came home only yesterday and has resently graduated so he’s still in her good graces. Dad and I just don’t measure up. I’ve resolved to hide in my cabin but dad’s not that lucky though he’s like a goose and everything just slides off him. I think mom’s a bit hurt by the fact that I’m not satisfied with living home with her and her rules anymore. We never had any big fights during my teenage years since I had my defying-age when I was about six-eight years old and learned then that it was best to not fight her and keep quiet about my own point of view. Since Ireland I realized my wings can bare me; I’m ready to leave the nest. But she doesn’t like it since it also mean I can be my own head, she is losing control.

Control is the keyword for both mom and me. I think she developed it as a defence against becoming crazy like her own mother. And that’s good I suppose. Bróheem and I have been accused by my elder aunt of being drilled like soldiers, too obedient and loyal for our own good. But I still think that would be better than becoming like her children, selfish thieves, liars, school dropouts with labil phyches because of the recless lives their mother gave them. Mom doesn’t understand how her elder sister can do that to her children but I think my aunt are just as frightened as mom of becoming like their mother; it’s just that they’re fighting it in different ways. My aunt watched her mother beating my mom and that scarred her so deeply that she can’t make any rules at all for her own children in case she loses control and starts doing what her mother did. She also lost her selfrespect in the process and probably believs that she’s not worthy of being well treated and so only choses men that hurts her and the children. She’s just not good enough for having anything better and how would she be able to help her children to better lives when she couldn’t help her own sister back in the days? I might be an amature in the field of psycology but I don’t think I’m too far from the point here. Mom just chose an other way of dealing with the trauma. More control. And it has effected me. I also need control but I’m not a control-freak and mostly have the confidence to take things as they come as well. But I need to know I can handle assignments I get and seldom does anything I’m not sure that I can manage. I don’t trust people I can’t predict the behavior of and avoids them, but I don’t need to control every action and thought of others. This is probably why I find it easier and safer to socialise with people that has extreme neourological personality patterns like Tourettes syndrome or Arsberger. “Normal” people are so much more unpredictable because they are an unspecific mixture of all these extremes which makes me uneasy since one can never know which personality pattern is the most dominant.
But having control, and so a responsebility, also frightens me. I often have waking naightmares about losing control and do severe mistakes, like dropping the baby on the ground, and having lists with things to do sometimes paralyzes me because of the responsebility that lies in having assignments someone else is counting on me to do. What if I fale? Sometimes I wish I could drop all control and give it to someone else. Have no responsebility. Like slipping on the floor and be knocked senseless. It’s not O.K. to just hand it over to mom because as long as I’m aware of things and can find ways of my own I have to do it my way no matter what. My integrity depends on it, but if it’s taken from me it’s an entierly different matter.
I have a trick of falling asleep faster at night. I imagine myself being blindfolded and backtied, lying in the darkness totally in someone elses power without control over my own situation, without responsebility. That calmes me down.
I believe it’s not totally uncommon to be feeling that way (masochist anyone?) so I guess I’m a weirdo in good company.

Saw a fantastic film yesterday with my brother. "Battle Royal", Japanese, a lot of death and blood, love, friendship and much more. I loved it!