Well today was uneventful, yet interesting. Alicia (our friend who happens to be a Fine Arts and Graphic Design major) came over to show Paige the website she built for her wedding planning business. I always feel kind of like a loser who will never achieve anything or fully learn my trade(thanks mom and dad) when I see someone either making a living with art and design or just knowing how to apply the knowledge. I just feel like I missed the boat. Many times, this overshadows what I have accomplished. Today, I finished the inks on page 5 of my comic, and got a good start on page 7. Page six isn't penciled yet because I didn't know there would be a page between 5 and 7 until I finished 5. Don't ask.
Despite accomplishing what I had planned on doing today and then some, when I see the wonderful things Alicia has done, I feel disheartened. She is supportive of my work and very complimentary, but I can't help but feel like there is an anchor tied to me that she doesn't seem to be weighed down by. Maybe it's the degree. Maybe it's the fact that things in the design industry are ever changing and my spectrum disorder is preventing me from keeping up. Maybe it's both. Maybe it's neither. The only thing preventing me from doing what I aspire to do is myself. I mistake 'slowly-but-surely' for 'never-gonna-finish'. I seem to put aside the fact that I didn't have a comic two months ago and today I have finished inks on 5 pages of a comic.
Today I:
- Went to church
- Started and finished inks on page 5
- Started inks on page 7
- Wrote a blog
This disorder is costly in ways greater than mere learning problems. It also disables us from recognizing our achievements. I don't know if this is related to the disorder directly, or if it is a personality flaw. Perhaps it's poor nurturing. I'm not here to whine about my parents, but I feel that I can't properly analyze my condition without also including psychological development.
There's many things I can say about my parents. First off, I identify 5 parents that contributed to my development as a son.
*WARNING DEEP EXISTENTIAL CRAP AHEAD*
My mother. The Martyr
My mother will tell you how much she has sacrificed for us kids. She will tell you that family is the most important thing in life. She will tell you how under-appreciated she is. She'll also tell her son that he's a loser. That she doesn't have a son, but she'll also tell him that he's all the family she's got. This isn't true, exactly. She's got two brothers, a sister-in-law, and a nephew that she doesn't speak to. Remember, though, that family is important. Remember that you don't treat your family badly. She takes care of a developmentally disabled girl. No one said she is not a decent provider, just maybe not for her own kids. Being in and out of jobs and psych wards with lapses in memory of these events tends to draw time away from the kids and the husband that is so busy trying to keep her together and keep dinner on the table, that he really can't provide emotional support for them. I have taken so much from my mother, but she doesn't remember saying that. I'm not sure what one would expect all of this to do to a child's psyche, but I know what the cost is. Unfortunately, it's damaged my self-worth to the point of not being able to appreciate any work that I do to better my life. It's the friends I have that have taught me to value myself after the damage my mother did to me. I want one thing to be understood. I love my mother very much. That's why I'm all she's got.
My Dad. The Saint.
When I say 'dad' I'm referring to my step-father who I asked to adopt me at 16. He has always said to my mother 'I married your family, not you'. That's absolutely true. He did more to provide for me and my sister than anyone. Never a complaint. Never a sigh. Never a question when we needed something. This man is my dad, and I'm proud to call him so. However, over the years, I feel that he has gotten tired. I feel he's weary because my mother uses him to validate herself. Whenever I had an issue with my mom, it was always 'your dad doesn't deserve this treatment' or 'how could you do this to your dad'. I have an example. When me and my wife got married, as is customary, my parents were willing to host the rehearsal dinner. I was very happy. We wanted it at The Melting Pot, which would have cost $900 for the 20 people that we would have, but that was too expensive. So my mom said we are having it at Pappy's Sports Bar and Grill. I said to them that if money is an issue, then maybe we can come up with another solution, but I didn't want to host my new in-laws at a sports bar. Well, weeks later, I walked into their house to see a brand-new 57" LCD on their wall, and a new leather living room set, and a couple of new laptops. Then my mom proceeds to show me the new deck they had installed in the backyard. In my boldness, I brought up the rehearsal dinner. Well, as it turns out she decided 'my father works really hard and he deserves all this'. I agree, but I don't think a man that has always put his kids first would spend so extravagantly when his son is about to get married and you offered to host a rehearsal dinner. This is getting off subject, but I feel it represents a problem with the saint. He is an enabler. My mother is a victim and he enables her, much to the chagrin of his children. So I ask; did he marry my mother or did he marry the family? Again, I love my dad, but I think he's become complacent with my mother. He has been so busy taking care of her, that the kids suffered. My mother's wants have become the standard, and his children's needs have become sub-standard.
My father. The Sperm Donor.
That's what my mother calls him, anyway. My biological father was present for my life up until I was informed of some very disturbing things that he'd done. I was about 15 when I severed contact with him. The more I think about it and talk about it(it's important to vocalize), the more I recognize that this man tried very hard to be a good father. He took interest in my life and he genuinely wanted to do the dad stuff. It's taken a long time to understand that. He always supported my drawing, but he failed in ways that are nothing but unacceptable for my sister who he abused before the divorce. I feel as though he was trying to make up for it with me. Unfortunately, my sister is too important to me to look him in the eye as a man who abused her and call him father.
My Sister. The Saving Grace.
With all that I have told you so far, you should understand that the adults in my life were pretty mixed up. My sister looked after me. She made sure that she talked to me about things that were necessary for my emotional development. The downside is that she was also living with my parents. She was also six years older than me, so when she met the man of her dreams, she moved away. I was alone. The focus on my shortcomings was concentrated by double. That's pretty much where I started my downhill slide. My grades dropped. My self-image floated out the door. I pretty much became what my mother called me. A loser. A deadbeat. A rotten son. My sister harbors alot of guilt for moving away. She would say that she left me behind. I disagree. Who the hell wouldn't get out of there while they had the chance? She didn't leave me, she left the situation. She moving on with her life. Something that was near impossible for someone growing up in such an emotional retarding environment. My sister doesn't save cards. For Christmas and on birthdays, she just doesn't want to have to hoard them. My mother says she is just not a sentimental person. I think my sister is the most caring and loving person I have ever known.
The reason for this diatribe about my family serves to show that there are sometimes forces that can nurture a destructive self-image. Pair that with the symptoms of ADD, and a person can grow to feel pretty worthless. Be there for your kids. Not just to keep them fed and in shoes, but also to see to their emotional needs. Help them. Sacrifice for them. Put them ahead of yourself. They didn't choose to be here. You chose to bring them here. So appreciate your children for every second that you get to spend with them.
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