every few months or so, my mother's family plans a get together. they don't do it out of pure love. to go into the dynamics of my mother's family could take a book in and of itself. so let's simplify.
mom's sister: almost as nutty as my mother. the hippy little sister who followed my mother into the LSD and ashrams of the 1970s with the adoration of a younger sibling who felt an affinity with my mother's odd choices. you could blame the times, if you want. partially i blame their hot-headed father and cigarette-totin'-sunday-dinner-throwin' mother. my mom and her sister wore saris to their brother's bar mitzvah, if that helps put this picture together for you. whereas my mother married her high school friend that understood her, her sister married an attractive greek boy, and promptly moved into suburban never-never-land to get the nice house in the respectable neighborhood. her kids are almost the same age as me and my brother. they were raised selfish, materialistic, uncommitted to school, and mostly interested in their clothes, friends, and popularity. the last time we got along was when we were 5. needless to say, they are practically strangers to me. my aunt is now a yogi, living with another yogi, and preaches well being and happiness, but just comes across as a ditzy new ager who has very little anchor in reality. she, too, is incredibly selfish. there's really no other way to label it.
mom's brother: the little brother left behind his two big sisters. always cleaning up the mess. the sibling who actually did something with himself. he's described it to me as being the "outsider." unlike my mom and her sister, he actually finished college and went into a definite field. he married an angel, and created the perfect little family. they do all the right things. say the right things. have the right friends and family friends and vacations and make everything ok. they have taken care of me when i have nothing to give but depression and i love them so very very much. every time my mother has gone off the deep end, my uncle has been there with an understanding and compassion that makes me feel unworthy of it.
mom's brother's wife's family: a hoot. i love these people. i wish they were my own family sometimes.
so, back to the story. mom's brother, who seems to feel that he and his wife must "hold" the family together now that grandpa is gone, has these get togethers twice a year. and this weekend was the latest. so it was me, my uncle and his family, his wife's family, my mom's sister, her yogi-spiritual-in-name-husband and her two kids. out of the entire room, i really just wanted to spend time with my uncle and his little family. they're the only ones i feel close to anymore. we've been on vacations together. i adore my little cousins, who are now in high school and starting to enjoy all those fun times with friends and crushes and first drinks...
but there was my mother's sister. reminding me so much of my mother it almost hurt. same mannerisms, same awkward comments. same face. and all i could think was, "what a waste." my mother's illness is such a waste. i always feel like my mother's daughter. like that is the label i will always have when i'm near people who know her. i know that my uncle doesn't think of me like that, but it's what it feels like.
most of the night was spent in idle chit chat. and then my aunt, with the lack of censorship she has always been blessed with, came out with "why don't you go on jenny craig like me? try to lose some weight? what do your doctors say?"
i wanted to punch her in the face, stand up, and leave.
yes, i'm fat. yes, i stress eat. yes, i eat my feelings away when i feel so depressed that i don't leave my house for two days. but don't fucking make me feel like shit, when every other thought i have on a regular basis is, "i hate myself. i hate myself. i hate myself." i don't need it. i don't fucking need it, especially when you are sitting right there, looking and sounding like my mother in a setting where she should have been. don't fucking say that.
i have no idea what happened the rest of the night. my uncle asked me if i was ok as i left, and i started to cry, and mumbled something about a "waste". somehow i made it home.
but i chain smoked the whole way. and i really don't feel like seeing my aunt for another 6 months.
