Theories and Pedestals 1

I saw my mom start a fight with my dad almost every day of his life.

And as with almost anything in this world, if you look hard enough, you can always find a reason, even if it is almost truly irrelevant, to pick a person apart or find a fault within their actions or their words. The nature of existence provides us with an infinite array of excuses to attack, destroy, or deconstruct anything or anyone that we so chose to.

I have had many theories of this behavior over time and most of those theories connect or sum-mate in one way or another. I have also seen this pattern over and over in slight or moderate variations within myself and those of who I have dated. I have written about this phenomena extensively.

My mom attacked and destroyed my dad daily because of her overwhelming insecurity. That is the bottom line….period. My dad wasn’t perfect and he may have made a lot of mistakes…he isn’t a rocket scientist and perhaps he isn’t or wasn’t the most emotionally available person in the world for my mother, but after many years of contemplation and observation of other women’s behavior in relationships, I have begun to even doubt my speculation of the lack of my dad’s availability to my mother.

You see, my primary theory has been that my mom married my dad because of timing and as an escape route to get her away from her family. Then, I have felt as though she destroyed him and blamed him forevermore, again on a daily basis, for not being her true Prince Charming or the one that she could truly love beyond any shadow of a doubt. In other words, it has seemed to me that she was too insecure to seek out a man she could really love and form an appropriate balancing union with, so she settled for a weaker man….a man that would never leave her, a man that would never call her out on her own bratish and selfish egocentric behavior, and a man who would also serve as her punching bag to absorb the force and release of all of the frustration and hate and doubt and paranoia and insecurity that she chose to hyper-focus upon in her life. It is tragic and more than plausible and in many ways. I still feel it to be a fairly accurate portrait of the actual cycle of general madness that encompassed my mother’s entire life. It is also an accurate portrayal of a very similar cycle that I fell into early in life even as I did my damnest to avoid it. The programming and indoctrination from these family dynamics is a possessive demon of the worst sort and it requires enormous effort and awareness and will to expose the beast and finally shake it from your back forevermore. And yes, even after you do so, it still will always remain there in the shadows and require constant acknowledgement and vigilance in some form or fashion.

But there is something else. Something else that seems to extend out of or beyond this observation. It is something that goes further into the darkness and deconstruction of relationships and it saddens me more than you will probably realize.

I have long held than men in general were essentially very basic creatures, lacking emotionally availability, empathy, and awareness…..and that women were essentially the victims of their own hyper-awareness, empathy, and a lack of understanding and support and nurturing from the opposite sex; the man an unempathetic sex machine of duh’s and der’s and lies to bed a woman only for his own pursuits, absent of uplifting union, and the woman an angelic creature worthy of the utmost worship and adoration due to her romantic awareness and empathy…her capability of oozing or radiating love throughout existence for all and essentially carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, while the naive or ignorant or much more basic man simply sits idly by and scratches his balls; the women suffer with their beauty and awareness and thoughts of responsibility and burden and the men sit around too peacefully, wondering what all the commotion and fuss is about.

Well, this was my Fairy Tale and I had it worked out so well and so completely in my mind forever and ever, but now I know it’s fictional…..just another one of my lost dreams…..and though it will lift some higher in its loss, it will also knock some off of a pedestal that I truly used to love…..not your type of love, but my fucking love…my non-double speaking and non-hypocritical love of pure untainted emotion. I have looked up at that pedestal, worshipping what I thought was there….what I refused to believe was not there….what I never ever gave up on….and I guess I have finally just seen too much objective evidence, too many times now, even as I tried to deny it all, not to realize that what I have seen up on that pedestal wasn’t what was really ever there, but simply just the projected image and ideal of a fusion of reality and my dreams to create the illusion of what I desired to actually be there….of what I could worship without compromise or loss of hope…even when in actuality it failed miserably to rise to the standards and graces and beauty and awareness that I had magically bestowed upon it.

To be continued…

Cribb          2014

One thought on “Theories and Pedestals 1

  1. I was wondering how could one hate their mother like that and that kept me reading hoping I would come across something positive about her. Oh am I glad it turned out to be fiction! or did it?

    Yeah some men would never understand the fuss behind women “grooming and making-up”, it’s a mystery! because at first they think it’s being done for them, and then not for them!

    Can you kind change in paragraph… “I have long held than”……THAN to THAT? or was is meant to be? (Lol). LOVED IT ALL.

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