Snakes and Broken Hearts

If I've never shared this, it definitely needs to be written down. In fact, it needs locked in my memory, never to be forgotten.

A few years ago, my psychologist of all people shared this story with me.

There was a man walking down a path on a cold day. He came upon a snake. The snake was cold and shivering. As the man walked by, the snake asked the man to pick him up and keep him warm. The man returns with hesitation, stating that he was a snake and would bite him. The snake begged and pled his case and promised not to bite, he was freezing and wanted a place to get warm. The man finally picked him up and put him in his pocket. After the snake got cozy and warm, he but the man and slithered away. Confused, the man asked why he had bitten him even after he had promised. The snake replied, "because I'm a snake."

Because despite the circumstances, he's a snake. Circumstances don't change anyone, they just make us more desperate to get what we want.

That is exactly what happens when I deal with my family in any realm. I only ever deal with my little brothers family, but I forget what he is.

Two things have happened this week that have me reeling from the heartbreak of being bitten by the snake.

I've prayed, planned and utilized every resource I have available to make a trip to Branson possible. It was two months ago that I started the conversation about taking my niece and nephew. We even altered the days we were going to fit their schedule. I went to a business acquaintance for help with a discounted condo that comfortably sleeps four adults.

These trips with the kids in the past haven't always been pleasurable. They are bickering kids and they don't appreciate things. So, I've spent some time praying through that and in deep discussion with my husband. There's also been some question wether we could make it happen. I finalized plans yesterday and was content.

Last night, I was informed my nephew would not be going. He has wrestling practice one of the days we will be gone. I was livid. I'm so incredibly sick of hearing my friends complain about how Much they sacrifice for sports. I'm sick of coaches using threats to keep kids tied to a schedule that is unrealistic. I'm absolutely angry that my feelings don't matter to any of them. Im positive that if my brother and his wife had made plans, that coach would be called and the kid would be going. But I'm not important enough.

I told my husband a few weeks ago that I'm not interested in buying love any more and I meant that family. It's a post of its own, but we pay a high price to spend any time with any of them. I'm not interested. I'm also not interested in playing this game with them. The game where they make all the rules and we have to eat it or not see the kids.

We will take my niece, provided her mother doesn't punish her for my frustration. Believe me, it's a very real possibility. This trip was kind of it for me. A last I would initiate. If none of them go, I'm done. I can't handle the roller coaster. If there's one thing I've learned the past eight years, it's that the pain never outweighs the gain of not being in the drama.

Prior to that yesterday, I had contacted my brother. Let me back up. I got a Christmas card from my grandma. I have one set of grandparents and one grandpa. My grandma wrote a letter as well.

I've struggled lately with losing family members and how I'd really never be able to go to funerals. The letter, while completely impersonal but handwritten, touched a nerve in me. It was written specifically for me. I know my grandma has no clue why I left the family. They are completely distanced from my family, even though they live in the same town.

My heart was longing to say hello, while saying goodbye. I'm a realist. I know that seeing them would probably be my last. They aren't ailing, but aging. I've really not seen them for nine years. I'm not sure they'll be around another nine. Honestly, a short, sweet conversation now would be the way I want to remember them anyway.

Not really knowing how to make that happen, I contacted my brother. He's the peacemaker of the family. However, he decided to start making stipulations. My other grandpa is not well. He's deteriorating with dementia and other health issues. He's 82 and been a lifetime smoker who eats bacon everyday. He's likely not going to be around much longer.

My brother would help arrange a time to see my grandparents, if I'd go see my grandpa.

Here's the problems. I can't just randomly go anywhere. I cannot handle a run in with my parents. Therefore, I have to have a buffer. I have no desire to ever see my grandpa. My brother doesn't understand that because he doesn't know my grandpa is a child molester. I hadn't ever planned to share that within the family, but he's forcing my hand.

I wasn't the only victim with this abuser. There are others. That belongs to them. I don't want to trigger or cause distress for any of them. Even though they are all crappy to me, I choose not to be that way to them. This is the grandpa who left Polaroid proof of child molestation. I have physical proof there are at least four victims in the family.

Needless to say, I scrapped the entire idea. It became too convoluted. It also became about my brother and what he wanted instead of what I needed or what it would take for me to be ok in this. I don't always make everything all about me. Unfortunately, this has to be mostly about me. Again, I can't play this game with a snake.

That's it. All of it. It all comes down to trusting someone who doesn't have my best interest in mind. It is all about self foscused people who aren't going to change regardless of how convincing they might be. A snake is a snake. He can't help but bite even though he's promised.

Eight Years

It was September 2007 when I told my mom I was being baptized. She hung up on me and began the severing of ties between us. She disowned me at that moment. She didn't need to say it or be ceremonious about it. It just was. I had chosen Christ over my family and she knew it. I'd broken one of the rules and so I must be disowned.

At the very moment I accepted Christ, I'm not sure I fully grasped what it would mean for my life. I certainly didn't automatically think I'd have to give up my family. Let me be clear about something. If this hadn't happened, I would have eventually had to make a break from my family because of the depth of their dysfunction. My mom took the first step and created an early out for me.

Despite their dysfunction, they are my only family. I love my two brothers, two nieces, two nephews and one sister in law. It was a lot to lose. Outside of my own life or my husband, it was probably the greatest sacrifice I could have made for Christ.

That was eight years ago. This is my eighth set of holidays away from them. Beside the first, this might be the hardest time I've had with it.

It was hard and lonely the first few years. Then it was a bit of triumph to have a few years when I thrived despite being lonely. Then there were years when the celebration of Christ was sufficient. The last couple years have brought a moderate amount of contact with my brothers family and time spent with his kids. Those years have supplied their own level of hard, but less loneliness.

The past couple months have been extremely lonely for me. Not quite connected here and too far away from there. So much time alone has given my mind too many opportunities to go down crazy paths.

Only briefly have I considered giving up Jesus to go back to my family. You might think that's extreme, but it's not for the situation. There's no place for a Christian to co exist in my family. Extended family, yes. Immediate, no. There's no possibility of balance. Make no mistake, my husband would never allow that level of crazy. My dad is still far too physically and emotionally dangerous. I'd sacrifice my sanity, marriage and possibly my life to go back.

But, my mind wanders and my heart longs. I've considered what it would be like to sneak back into the family and evangelize them. Would God protect? Would Jesus be enough to keep me in line? Yes, yes. The problem goes back to me not being quite healthy enough to do it. I'm good at admitting where I'm inadequate, not enough. God lets me know. I'm not enough to take on the evil that reside there.

Even if I were able to go back, it would not be as I dreamed. It wouldn't be like the return of the prodigal son. There would be no party. Nobody would be waiting with open arms. There would only be suspicion. I'd be in a vulnerable position with a pack of vultures. There wouldn't be cookie baking or reminiscing. There wouldn't be carol singing or sharing life. It would be dramatic and cold.

I hate this place, hate the emotion. It's not even about not having what I want. It's about the loss and grieving what will never be. I can wish, dream and even scheme. Everything still stands as it is. Impossible.

Before you say that nothing is impossible with God, it's not applicable in that way here. It was only possible with God that I was extricated from this terrible environment. That's what was not impossible and I have to be thankful for that.

Even though I know all of this and eight years is a lot of time to accept it, there's nothing which changes the heartache. There's nothing that makes it hurt less.

I can't hardly believe it's been eight years. It's been nine years since I spent a Christmas or Thanksgiving with my family. So much has changed. None of my nieces or nephews were in school. The oldest turned five and the youngest was a baby.

Despite my own loneliness, I always hope others have wonderful holidays with their families.

Reality

Things are status quo and yet completely off. I know, it's contradictory. Given everything in life, I have to admit that things aren't terrible. They could be worse. It's what I tell myself to make it ok to face the world.

The absolute truth is the cumulative effect of the past two years seems to be sitting heavy on me these days. Starting January 2014, our world was turned upside down and we've had one thing after another to handle. I know, I should be able to deal with one thing and go into the next. I'm not designed that way. I deal with each thing as little as possible, so I can get by and deal with the next thing. What's left over festers until I hit bottom and then it spews out of me like a volcano.

I'm still sleep deprived. It's not as bad at it was, but I can't get caught up at all.

This past few weeks have been hard. I've kept it together. Barely.

After surgery, I got a glimpse of how life will be as we grow older. I'm not complaining. I loved being able to help my husband. It was a perfect time to serve him in ways he's done the same for me. What I realized is that I'm not enough. I have limited abilities outside of loving and feeding him. If he ever becomes physically incapacitated, I won't be enough. While I knew it, it was hard to see firsthand.

The holiday thing has hit me hard this year. It was tough last year, but it was as I expected. This year is incredibly lonely. Even as we prepare for our trip back to KC, it's still lonely for me.

On our trip back, we will be making time for my husband to see his friends and we will stay with his family. We were supposed to take my niece and nephew to Branson for a couple days. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen. Between increased expenses, no raise and a couple months of completely unexpected repairs and expenses, there's nothing left. It's a lean year and my wish list has taken the hit.

Without going into it, I can tell you that there are a few more things complicating life as well. They aren't things I'm ready to lay out there, even to strangers.

Needless to say, I'm tired. Tired as in kind of lost. In the past, I had help with this sort of thing. I had a support system, people I could talk to and who could help. I don't have that now. I have a couple people who would listen and I'm thankful. But, now, I need people who can help. People who know those things I haven't shared here and can help me get through.