I need a temporary change-of-topic!
(Blogging can be liberating but exasperating.)
Let's see... What to rant on now?
Perhaps my dad & stepmom's dysfunctional treatment which set me up for that horrible little poser who trapped me into marriage. They preferred their daughters, bigtime, to me and the girls always seemed to get priority. Of course, most kids feel this way. But I can substantiate it with at least one sister's witness, if that were important. Of course, I was the oldest & taught them how to raise their younger kids to love them -- i.e., I was the guinea pig!
I never really classified our parents behavior as officially dysfunctional until my sister, Jean, said that we had been "a dysfunctional family." Holy crap, that was good to hear -- even more because someone else in my family also knew some psychological buzzwords and understood what they MEANT! Jeannie & I were always labeled as similar and smart and used to be able to talk regularly and clearly about most everything once we were adults. WHEN we talked... which was truly far less than every blue moon! Of course, I enlisted in the AF when she was only 9 and I only went back twice to visit -- OK,, 3 times if you count the 3 days I first got back from Vietnam.
It was nice that my sisters got Dad to pick me up at McChord AFB (Tacoma, WA) -- I was happy my AF charter plane returned me there from Vietnam since parents had moved nearby. Dad got an Instructor Pilot job with Boeing after retiring from the AF's Presidential Squadron in Washington, DC. I should have known Sadie, my stepmother, would resume her evil stepmother role to me -- I am almost certain I remember she did not come out to welcome me home from fighting a war for a year. (It was not a long trip from their house.) What do YOU think she meant by that?
Of course, back then, few unrelated people welcomed Vietnam Veterans home -- they scapegoated the warriors for the war that we followed civilian leaders' orders to go fight! THAT is something we (VN Vets) corrected for the generations of warfighters to come later (particularly from Desert Storm in 1991 and forward)! I co-organized the Welcome Home Parade in Tallahassee for Desert Storm Vets. Since then, I always say "Welcome Home!" to any returning war vet and YOU SHOULD, TOO!
There was only one time in all the years I have known her that stepmother Sadie was in a reconciliatory frame of mind -- I think it was shortly after her father died, and she was trying to come to terms with a past she only hinted at, rather imperceptibly. I have finally come to the conclusion that she had been abused and/or neglected by her father -- I strongly suspect that it was sexual abuse because of her statement to me once when I was a child & had been beaten up by my father, "Oh, don't think that YOU'RE abused!" even though I clearly WAS abused physically and emotionally by any knowledgeable person's standards! In HER mind, I guess she didn't think anyone should be considered abused unless they had suffered something as bad as SHE had (but she never said anything about where SHE had learned abusive behavior; that follows the pattern of abuse victims of "don't talk, don't trust, don't tell!") She sure scapegoated ME, though; I was a "convenient" target for the sick bitch!
And Sadie, herself, had even come in and comforted me once when I was about 10 and Dad cracked the top of my head with the heavy butt end of a silverware table knife! It hurt so bad, I did something I NEVER EVER would have done any other time -- I got up and ran to my room (formerly, a maid's room) crying because of the hurt, not because of the meanness of my father. (I was used to the meanness but not THAT extreme pain!) We, kids, didn't say anything to authorities about that kind of stuff back then -- besides, where were we going to go that was better? Dad didn't hit overload too often, but you can believe I obeyed him very well and learned to follow his rules better than anybody else ever had to.
I'm sure he was nicer to the airmen who worked for him because he knew he could not treat them so badly -- or he would not have kept his officer's commission! He used the rough Kansas farmboy discipline on me that HIS father had used on him (his mother later told me). But I STILL don't think he had behaved as well for his dad as I did for him, and I don't think he was treated with such meanness, either. I don't know about his father's general treatment of him but, at least, he had his mother to look after him and take his side when needed. I DIDN'T.
This topic could go on forever and I had planned to end with the last sentence. But I think I'll add a couple of things it might be good for my family of origin to know if they ever get to read this. One is that I seriously considered killing myself when I was 16 or 17. I had been the Junior Class President the year before and had high grades through the first 3 years of high school. But in my senior year, I was feeling so unhappy and stressed that I skipped school when I missed the schoolbus and spent the day discerning whether to kill myself, or to "jump a train" & run away, or to finish out the spring semester and get my high school diploma. The other fact is that, when I joined the Air Force, I knew that no matter how mean any training sergeant would treat me in going through basic training or afterwards, they wouldn't HIT me! I was still better off than when I last lived with my father and stepmother.
Uncle Sam called me a MAN when I was only 17, and he gave me a chance to advance and earn many things all on my own. Now, I think I encountered liars and back-stabbers throughout my service career who hurt me without my even knowing it, but there were many good and reasonable and helpful people who treated me far better than my own father did.
I guarantee I worked VERY hard for my country and I actually earned everything I was able to achieve, and some other things I SHOULD have gotten, but did NOT receive. I had a successful career (especially for one who never played politics or other games) retiring from service as a Lt Colonel after only 19 years of commissioned service (& 5 years of prior enlisted service). I fought in 3 separate wars. I earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, many Air Medals, and a few Commendation Medals. I never cheated anyone out of anything. I did more than my share of the unpleasant duties and details. I was always a loyal soldier & faithful spouse, and probably followed orders too well for my own good (avoiding complaints as my father had taught me -- for better or for worse). And that's to say nothing of my active parenting of my 2 sons -- even teaching their mother behavior modification techniques I learned in my classes for my two Master's Degrees. I was my sons' Cubmaster, Scoutmaster, Explorer Advisor, Committee Chairman and many other positions in the 29 years I volunteered as an adult Scouter mostly for them.
I even got to return to the Air Force Academy as a professor after having been dismissed from there 13 years earlier for academically low grades (a 2.09 cumulative GPA, but a low 1.7 semester GPA); with my background & experience, I was able to redeem myself happily by helping many Cadets there during 4 additional years later as Faculty. And I received a graduation gift of the Cadet Plaque and Saber from the members of my old Cadet Squadron. My life could have been a little bit better, but it surely could have been a whole lot worse! It was certainly worth working for!
(Blogging can be liberating but exasperating.)
Let's see... What to rant on now?
Perhaps my dad & stepmom's dysfunctional treatment which set me up for that horrible little poser who trapped me into marriage. They preferred their daughters, bigtime, to me and the girls always seemed to get priority. Of course, most kids feel this way. But I can substantiate it with at least one sister's witness, if that were important. Of course, I was the oldest & taught them how to raise their younger kids to love them -- i.e., I was the guinea pig!
I never really classified our parents behavior as officially dysfunctional until my sister, Jean, said that we had been "a dysfunctional family." Holy crap, that was good to hear -- even more because someone else in my family also knew some psychological buzzwords and understood what they MEANT! Jeannie & I were always labeled as similar and smart and used to be able to talk regularly and clearly about most everything once we were adults. WHEN we talked... which was truly far less than every blue moon! Of course, I enlisted in the AF when she was only 9 and I only went back twice to visit -- OK,, 3 times if you count the 3 days I first got back from Vietnam.
It was nice that my sisters got Dad to pick me up at McChord AFB (Tacoma, WA) -- I was happy my AF charter plane returned me there from Vietnam since parents had moved nearby. Dad got an Instructor Pilot job with Boeing after retiring from the AF's Presidential Squadron in Washington, DC. I should have known Sadie, my stepmother, would resume her evil stepmother role to me -- I am almost certain I remember she did not come out to welcome me home from fighting a war for a year. (It was not a long trip from their house.) What do YOU think she meant by that?
Of course, back then, few unrelated people welcomed Vietnam Veterans home -- they scapegoated the warriors for the war that we followed civilian leaders' orders to go fight! THAT is something we (VN Vets) corrected for the generations of warfighters to come later (particularly from Desert Storm in 1991 and forward)! I co-organized the Welcome Home Parade in Tallahassee for Desert Storm Vets. Since then, I always say "Welcome Home!" to any returning war vet and YOU SHOULD, TOO!
There was only one time in all the years I have known her that stepmother Sadie was in a reconciliatory frame of mind -- I think it was shortly after her father died, and she was trying to come to terms with a past she only hinted at, rather imperceptibly. I have finally come to the conclusion that she had been abused and/or neglected by her father -- I strongly suspect that it was sexual abuse because of her statement to me once when I was a child & had been beaten up by my father, "Oh, don't think that YOU'RE abused!" even though I clearly WAS abused physically and emotionally by any knowledgeable person's standards! In HER mind, I guess she didn't think anyone should be considered abused unless they had suffered something as bad as SHE had (but she never said anything about where SHE had learned abusive behavior; that follows the pattern of abuse victims of "don't talk, don't trust, don't tell!") She sure scapegoated ME, though; I was a "convenient" target for the sick bitch!
And Sadie, herself, had even come in and comforted me once when I was about 10 and Dad cracked the top of my head with the heavy butt end of a silverware table knife! It hurt so bad, I did something I NEVER EVER would have done any other time -- I got up and ran to my room (formerly, a maid's room) crying because of the hurt, not because of the meanness of my father. (I was used to the meanness but not THAT extreme pain!) We, kids, didn't say anything to authorities about that kind of stuff back then -- besides, where were we going to go that was better? Dad didn't hit overload too often, but you can believe I obeyed him very well and learned to follow his rules better than anybody else ever had to.
I'm sure he was nicer to the airmen who worked for him because he knew he could not treat them so badly -- or he would not have kept his officer's commission! He used the rough Kansas farmboy discipline on me that HIS father had used on him (his mother later told me). But I STILL don't think he had behaved as well for his dad as I did for him, and I don't think he was treated with such meanness, either. I don't know about his father's general treatment of him but, at least, he had his mother to look after him and take his side when needed. I DIDN'T.
This topic could go on forever and I had planned to end with the last sentence. But I think I'll add a couple of things it might be good for my family of origin to know if they ever get to read this. One is that I seriously considered killing myself when I was 16 or 17. I had been the Junior Class President the year before and had high grades through the first 3 years of high school. But in my senior year, I was feeling so unhappy and stressed that I skipped school when I missed the schoolbus and spent the day discerning whether to kill myself, or to "jump a train" & run away, or to finish out the spring semester and get my high school diploma. The other fact is that, when I joined the Air Force, I knew that no matter how mean any training sergeant would treat me in going through basic training or afterwards, they wouldn't HIT me! I was still better off than when I last lived with my father and stepmother.
Uncle Sam called me a MAN when I was only 17, and he gave me a chance to advance and earn many things all on my own. Now, I think I encountered liars and back-stabbers throughout my service career who hurt me without my even knowing it, but there were many good and reasonable and helpful people who treated me far better than my own father did.
I guarantee I worked VERY hard for my country and I actually earned everything I was able to achieve, and some other things I SHOULD have gotten, but did NOT receive. I had a successful career (especially for one who never played politics or other games) retiring from service as a Lt Colonel after only 19 years of commissioned service (& 5 years of prior enlisted service). I fought in 3 separate wars. I earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, many Air Medals, and a few Commendation Medals. I never cheated anyone out of anything. I did more than my share of the unpleasant duties and details. I was always a loyal soldier & faithful spouse, and probably followed orders too well for my own good (avoiding complaints as my father had taught me -- for better or for worse). And that's to say nothing of my active parenting of my 2 sons -- even teaching their mother behavior modification techniques I learned in my classes for my two Master's Degrees. I was my sons' Cubmaster, Scoutmaster, Explorer Advisor, Committee Chairman and many other positions in the 29 years I volunteered as an adult Scouter mostly for them.
I even got to return to the Air Force Academy as a professor after having been dismissed from there 13 years earlier for academically low grades (a 2.09 cumulative GPA, but a low 1.7 semester GPA); with my background & experience, I was able to redeem myself happily by helping many Cadets there during 4 additional years later as Faculty. And I received a graduation gift of the Cadet Plaque and Saber from the members of my old Cadet Squadron. My life could have been a little bit better, but it surely could have been a whole lot worse! It was certainly worth working for!
posted by Richard A at 2:35 AM
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