Frustration

I’m going on a tirade. Simply put, people near and dear to me piss me off. They frustrate me. It’s been building and it came to a head with my parent’s visit this weekend. Should I address these things directly in a letter to them, or anyone else who “doesn’t quite get it”? I could. But I’ve discovered people read into personal letters what they want. They miss the point.



My folks are lovely people. Don’t get me wrong, they are by most definitions “good members of society”. Yet, the more they visit, the more they say hurtful, hateful things, the more I feel my blood pressure shoot through my skull.


In the span of the first fifteen minutes, I heard: 1) how “bitter” they were over various decisions made at their church; 2) how many recent murders occurred in their community and all the “criminals” are guilty – ironically, I’m the only person in the history of the U.S. Justice system who’s ever been mistreated; 3) how screwed up everyone else’s family is; 4) why certain people aren’t communicating with them.


I just sit there, biting my tongue, trying to eat a microwavable sandwich and get the three hour visit to pass without having a stroke. As I’ve told my cousin (who, along with her husband, has done more for me throughout this process than I can ever begin to repay), it takes more self-control and composure, more mental discipline to survive a visit than prison itself.


So, in order:


1) Hey Mom and Dad, it’s church. You’re not supposed to be “bitter” with your fellow believers. Quit being so melodramatic. In the great scheme of things, does it really matter who’s on a particular committee?


2) No, my sentence wasn’t fair, but neither are the vast majority of sentences. And, as “USA Today” pointed out in a page 1 cover story this week, hundreds perhaps thousands, of inmates are wrongly convicted each year due to prosecutorial misconduct. You want to be angry, do something about the “lockem up” mentality that pervades “good citizens”. You don’t solve drug abuse, mental illness, or the vast majority of nonviolent felonies, with prison. Even the Federal Courts are beginning to realize there’s no such thing as “rehabilitation” in prison (see Judge Wald’s dissent in Amatel v Reno - http://cl.bna.com/cl/19981007/975293.htm).


And here’s another thing that drives me nuts. A guy from my town butchered four people, including a woman that worked at the same college as my ex. This week he pled guilty to the four murders to avoid the death penalty. My ex emails my Mom to tell her “. . . was in the courtroom. He’ll be killed by other inmates.” Really? The people making these pronouncements have exactly how many days of prison time experience? Oh yeah, none. Fact is, that sick bastard will go to Virginia’s super max facility. The likelihood anyone gets their hands on him is remote at best. And, when did it become “decent” to wish death and suffering to someone. How do you sit in church praising the prince of peace in one Moment and the other hoping for death for someone in the other?


As for families, yeah there’s a lot of dysfunction floating around. But how about a little more empathy and a little less condemnation. Your 51 year-old son is in prison. You can’t even discuss that with your friends, yet you’re telling me how screwed up everyone else is.


I read a short story recently by an author named Rodriguez (no relation to the crazy Rodriguez in here) who wrote about the dysfunction in his family and then said “though my mother refuses to read anything I write. She won’t look inward at the why’s in life . . .” Wow. I didn’t know I had a half brother out there! My Mom and Dad refuse to read the blog; refuse to read anything I write. They bury their head in the sand and don’t evaluate, don’t analyze, don’t consider their behavior, their actions in the drama that is our family’s life.


Case in point, the exact same behavior they’ve used with me and my brother is being repeated with my brother’s youngest daughter. “She has to listen. I’m a disciplinarian.” How about trying love and praise?


My brother and I have had a very strained relationship most of our lives. He clearly has demons. But he’s always been the “second-class citizen” in our family. That doesn’t mean things were easy for me. I was expected to succeed. When I did, it was met with a “ho hum, you should have done that well”.


My brother has had a tough life, no doubt. He’s had cancer. Now, he sits home while his wife and daughters go on with life. He doesn’t even take care of himself.


I want to tell him to pull his head out of his butt. Get over it. You’ve been given a new lease on life. Lose weight, eat healthy, get exercise, and change your negative attitude! Realize how blessed you are having your wife and daughters. Treat them with kindness and decency. Be loving. And for God’s sake, and your sanity, get over the bitterness with Mom and Dad. They’re never going to admit they weren’t great parents. Know what – they weren’t perfect; they screwed us up in a lot of ways, but we weren’t perfect sons either. Forgive Bro, and lead a joyful life.


Finally, to two of my aunts, who quit writing my Mom because, well frankly, Mom says mean hurtful things (remember I have a “Top 10 Sweet Remarks list by my Mom”), tell her straight up how what she says hurts. If she doesn’t get it, move on.


I could write pages how my ex’s behavior sends me into orbit. She has no contact with me and completely cut me off from our kids. I could write a lot, but I won’t. See, I’m most frustrated with myself. I hurt the woman I love, the woman who was my best friend, my soul mate. I wish she’d see the remorse and sorrow I feel, but I have no one to blame but myself. And, at the end of the day, the loss of that amazing woman is the most frustrating thought I live with.