I’ve been at my parents’ house for a month and a half and there are better moments and worse moments.
My parents and I can’t stand each other most of the time.
My father doesn’t tolerate or respect my way of thinking and I can’t cope with his intolerance and his only perspective of seeing things.
He is very political and a bit racist and I am not political and not at all racist. He sometimes makes comments that are provocative.
We can’t take him anywhere, let alone with people who don’t speak his language and have different ideologies.
Of course, if you think like him (left, Republican) he can be very charming. But if you do not think like him, he is going to start to argue very quickly or he will leave.
I have learned to be tolerant. Before I was like him and I didn’t realise it and my father was a reference for me, but in the last decade of my life, my values, ideologies and others have changed and my father is no longer a reference for me and I don’t even think like him.
What it is like leaving your comfort zone many times and then living with the people who raised you. It is a time bomb.
A lot happens between parents and children. We are not at all prepared to return to the family home and we should, because parents need us later when they are older and I don’t see the need for them to leave their home for a nursing home or care home.
I’ve always gotten along badly with my mother, we argue a lot because she’s also a little girl. But now it seems that we can live together better. If she has to become more independent, because of what she wants then servants can do everything and with the issue of her hernias and that she falls all day, she needs this help. But the way I see it, she is becoming an invalid and a dependent and just wants to lie down, sleep or watch TV. She is passing her life and the worst thing is that she is always complaining and bitter to those around her. She doesn’t know how to be a good person and nobody taught her. And now she won’t let us teach her, no way!
Also, my father and sister, leave everything in the hands of what the doctors say and the medication and do not let her get out of that vicious cycle that they have created. They are not very helpful. Quite the contrary, although they don’t even see it.
In a month and a half, I think I have managed to make the house cleaner, my mother is more relaxed and my father treats my mother better.
Of course, my mother is forgetting the ordeal from before and she is beginning to see that I am a hindrance to her, because I criticise her a lot. And then she wants me to go. She plays the victim like always.
With my parents, I have two patterns. That of guilt and that of the victim.
My father, the guilty one, always blames others and my mother that of the victim. And they don’t come out of there. They need an urgent personal development course. But they are so sceptical, backward thinking and stubborn, that if I propose anything new to them, they would see it as stupid, like many other things I do and think about.
Things are like this: my father does the shopping (he doesn’t let my mother go shopping), scrubs the floors of the house once or twice a month, cooks the food, puts on washing machines and my mother secretly cleans what she can when he is out the house because every time she starts cleaning, she ends up arguing with my father.
My father justifies himself well with that, but cleaning a 130 m2 house, he likes it so much and thinks that what he does is adequate and sufficient and the rest of the house is not important.
He doesn’t seem to understand that those of us who are clean freaks want every corner clean. He doesn’t care and it seems very selfish to me. He has to respect that my mother has spent 50 years having an impeccable house, that even my father boasted about it with everyone, how exaggeratedly clean my mother was and now since it’s his turn to do it, he doesn’t see the dirty house.
The solution, call a person to clean but as I have said before, no one comes to his house to clean and it is not within his retirement budget.
One person 4 hours every two weeks, which is about €100 more or less in Madrid. He won’t pay for this and it freaks me out!
Plus I have a sister who doesn’t see any of this and isn’t helpful at all, on the contrary, she always sides with my father and for me, it is mentally exhausting.
It seemed that this could have been better, but seeing how everyone does things, I can’t change anything in Madrid.
In short, this is crazy and I have already made it very clear that I tried, to be close to my parents, and that one day I won’t have them. But I can’t be close to them. I have to get away from them because instead of giving me peace and quiet, they are stressing me out.
And for me, the stress of a few hours of sleep is very unsettling to me. It takes my sleep away.
How curious, I have been visiting Malaga for a week and my friend Ramon can say that I did nothing but sleep. The naps were like something, I needed them, and my eyes were constantly closing. But since I arrived back in Madrid, I don’t feel like taking a nap and it’s really hard for me to sleep.
Maybe the altitude affects me. At sea level, I sleep better. I have to check that.
Let’s see if now after more than 6 years, I’m going to wake up with another psychotic break and I end up in the mental hospital.
No way!
But my parents’ house is turning into hell for me!
It’s a shame because it could be a paradise, but the environment it has, for me and my way of living and thinking, we could call it hell.
They are boring, my mother has no topic of conversation and also with so many pills and locked in her room, you can’t even hold a conversation with her, she misinterprets what I say and she invents her own version.
My father with that attitude that he has taken with me, it is clear that I am not considering living with them again to be closer to them. They don’t need me or want me at home and I’m looking forward to getting back on my international trips and moving on from them.
When I am abroad again and I talk to my mother, if she starts complaining and emotionally blackmailing me, all I will do is listen to her without feeling guilty that I am a bad daughter because I am not close to her. And with my father, I will call him to see how he is, and then I will wait for him to call me to see how I am. Surely I will stay waiting and waiting for his call because he never calls to see how his daughter is, only if something has happened,
I’m sure even less now. If I didn’t do it before and we didn’t know that incompatibility of characters that we have, well imagine from now on, much less still.
This has been happening to me my whole life. The moment I stop visiting or calling the people I care about, it turns out that those people disappear from my life because they neither call you to check in on me and I am tired of giving without receiving.
That is why I want to continue with the community of naturist sexuality because I want to create my own family and circle of friends with my same philosophy of life without having to be repressed out of respect for others.
Would you like to belong to the naturist community?
La descripción de tus padres…… igual que los míos. Me reconoci en tu texto.
Tal vez algún día me atreva a contactar en Ginevra. Suerte
Mucha gente se identifica también como tu. Así son nuestros padres! Pues vuelvo a Ginebra en mayo. Atrévete porque estoy segura que no te vas a sentir mal. Soy una persona muy cercana y muy transparente, rápido te vas a sentir cómodo. Suerte a ti tambien.