Defense mechanisms save us from a detrimental situation before we are capable of dealing with it in a more permanent manner. There is nothing wrong with using a defense mechanism to immediately remove yourself from a harmful situation as long as you realize that it will not be a permanent fix. My defense mechanism has always been to run away. Whether I was running away to a different life that I invented within myself, or running to the other side of the world, I was running from a reality that I was incapable of dealing with. Fleeing from my reality was not the solution to the problem, but it did remove me from the whirlwind of confusion before I sunk too far in to crawl back out.
Two months after my mom and I returned home from Montana, I moved to Santiago Chile. This was the first time that I was capable of recognizing why I was moving thousands of miles away. The previous times that I had embarked on an extravagant adventure, I had masked my true motivation with a drive to discover the world when my one true desire was to have a home where I felt safe and loved. When I left home this time, I knew that I was running away from my family and would no longer have a home to return to. This made going out into the world that much more daunting, because I was beginning to face it alone.
In the last two months that I was with my mom, her drinking never improved. There was nothing I could say or do to discourage her from using alcohol as a quick release from her deteriorating life. My concern only forced her deeper into hiding. Watching her destroy herself one drink at a time stole my soul and replaced it with an empty pit. My love wasn't good enough. The only person she wanted was the one person who had brought her to this point in the first place. Her only fix was her only ruin. She defended Rich with her life, saying that Betty just wasn't good enough for him; he needed someone who was capable of living up to his standards. These faulty standards could be adjusted to make anyone look unworthy of love. My family was killing me from the inside out, stealing the good in me and turning it sour. The only way that I was going to survive was to run away.
As my mom watched me walk through the security gate at D.I.A., tears streamed down her sorrowful face. I knew that this was the end of my life with a family. I would remain in contact with my mom for one more year, but this was the moment that I realized my family did more harm to me than good. Fleeing was the only way I could protect myself from their endless cycle of self destruction.
No comments:
Post a Comment