I've packed all my gear into storage and left town. Headed for the ... "sanctity" ... of the parents' house.
Har-de-fricking-HA!
You'd think that your family could understand best that you need time to get your emotions under control after you've uprooted yourself from your familiar home of more than ten years and fucked off to an uncertain future. I don't want a shoulder to cry on, I'm quite used to doing that on my own anyway. I don't want support as such. I'd rather be stronger within myself than rely on the people who have been a source of emotional instability for so long to help me through the changes.
What I do need is to be treated as an adult, rather than a misfit child.
What I need is some space to hide out and reorganise my life into something more outgoing and postive - rather than small and scared and running away through necessity rather than choice.
Fuck you, my parents.
A small note to Devil's Advocate:
Please don't argue me on this one. It's a blurt - emotional shit that I needed to put on a page to get it out of my system. If I'm argued on it I think I'll just cry more.
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6 comments:
Im sorry Vic, but I would rather be treated as a 'misfit child' by my parents. Not only because they are both good at taking everything so SERIOUSLY, but because I find their demanding expectaions too high to measure with. Well, for a nineteen year old. It drives me crazy. I guess a happy medium met here would be ideal.
But they are our parents (ehem... or in my case.... 'mum' and 'loserhead that married mum'), and I honestly dont think a 'perfect parent' exsists... I take my unhappy relationship with my 'rents positively: It promotes my wanting to become an individual, and in turn, my own self.
But again, Im only young. What I want from my parents could (and most likely is) very different from what you want. What you want is what you want. Fair enough.
Hang in there, Vic.
You're not running away.
You're just taking a breather before letting The Groover loose on the world.
Take shelter for a bit. There's no shame in that. We've all done it. Take shit from your parents if they dish it out. It's their house, after all. Just use it as a base from which to take off and fly, Vic.
Wrap a hand around that bass neck … Sexy, huh? … Feels good? That's who you are. You are Vic; you are The Groover. You are a damned fine musician and you KNOW how fucking good you are. The world is not a big, scary place. It's yours to play with. Now flush all your emotional shit down the crapper, take a deep breath and say: "I am Vic. I am cool and I am sexy and I am the best fucking musician you're ever gonna meet."
And if you need to blurt it out some more, that's what we're here for.
I'm here luv, just a shout away. Always my thoughts go with you.
oxox
neen
Me Dearest Vic, Th' Cap'n be here t'lend a shoulder an' two arms t'hold ye tight. Remember that.
vic... all I can say is kudos to you. It takes strength to do the things you're doing. It's during these times that we grow. Unfortunate that it has to hurt so much in the meantime.
Looks like you've got lots of shoulders to steady yourself on here!
Chin up -
Hugs to you, Vic. I feel your pain. My mom has left the building on me all together. Ouch.
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