Interlude at the Gas Station

When Mom left her second husband, she already had Husband #3 lined up.  In fact,   despite the general bastardy of the second husband, I'm not sure she would have left him had she not already had another man in mind. This was her thinking process at the time. Okay, honestly, it was her thinking process most of the time.

Because the new man was waiting in the wings, the Interlude was brief. In fact, it really only lasted a few hours. However, when Mom woke me up very, very early that morning and told me to get ready and get in the car because we were leaving the husband, I didn't know a new man was already in the picture.  I thought we were free and clear of this insane nightmare and could just get on with our lives.  In other words, I was in a state of intense relief and pure joy.

Mom got us in the car and began to drive. This was her pattern. When she needed to think, when she was in a state of great anxiety or nervousness (and I'm talking far and above her USUAL state of anxiety and nervousness), she would drive.  As she drove, she  apologized for the husband she was leaving. She told us she knew life had been very bad and things would now be better. She promised us this.  She said she understood how wrong she'd been.

About an hour into this, she needed gas and we were hungry.  She stopped at a station and filled up the car. When she came back out to us, she had two bags full of stuff. Soda. Candy. Cupcakes. Donuts. Chips. Practically everything she could find. We sat in the parking lot and feasted on convenience store food.

As I ate, I was happier than I had been in two years. You see, Husband #2 took all kinds of issue with me being a little fat girl.  I guess he didn't think was cute enough for all his grand plans for me. There were many things I was forbidden to have. Basically all of the foods mentioned above. Mom was so afraid of him that she wouldn't even get me these things when he wasn't around. I had to rely on my grandparents or my dad to have sweets.

OH!  And here was the kicker. It wasn't like EVERYONE in the house wasn't allowed to have them.  He could. My brother could. Even Mom could, though she often didn't. It was mostly just me that wasn't allowed. Fucker. Anyway, for Mom to actually let me have these snack treats showed me that she was serious about leaving him.

And see, this time in my life, this Interlude at the Gas Station, is basically the epitome of every psychosis I have all wrapped up into one morning. You have the fucked up food issues. You have the Mommy Issues. You have the man issues. All in one morning. All tied together in a neat little package that would become my life.

See you have to understand, the Interludes between husbands were THE happiest times of my life with my mother. She was ours again.  She could focus on us.  And we had fun together.  We enjoyed each other and laughed and made up stories and songs. We didn't have to hide or compromise who we were. I was so happy in these moments.

In was never enough for her though. She would always need A MAN in her life. She would sell us out and trade our happiness and protection and well-being and everything else, just so she had a man. The peace and quiet wasn't enough for her. The calm, easy life wasn't enough for her.

We weren't enough for her. We were her children, but we weren't enough for her. Then again, if you hate yourself, can you really love something that came from your body?

See, it took me a long time to really grasp how abusive this was. Okay, I KNEW it was abusive, but I never understood how deeply. Her choices in men were such the perfect storm.  She chose men who sucked so she could always feel like she was the better person in the relationship. She chose men who sucked so we would hate them and always choose her over them.  She would present us in the worst light possible so that the men hated us and would always choose her over us.

We were also her little sacrifices. We were her example of showing the man how much she loved him. "Here. These are my kids from my own body. I love you so much that I'll let you do anything you want to them. Call them names. Boss them around. Beat them. Starve them. Abuse them. Put them out in the cold. It's all okay because I love you best." They would do just that and when she had enough, she would whisk us away to safety.  She got to be the savior.

So now I have HUGE Mommy Issues. When my female friends get boyfriends, I get nervous. I almost always LOATHE the boyfriends/husbands. In every conversation I have with my friends, the little girl in me holds out hope that she will say she's leaving The Man. This means she can be less miserable and we can get on with our lives.  Seriously, I like daydream about my female friends leaving their husbands/boyfriends. To me, they would be so much happier.

It's really screwed me over as far as possible relationships with men are concerned. My childhood was about finding happiness when men were GONE. This is now a visceral level response for me. If I am most happy when no men are around, how could I possibly ever have any kind of long romantic relationship with one? It just can't happen.

I know this isn't rational, fair, or even true, but part of me is convinced that men will always force you to compromise who you are and what makes you happy. They will demand all the attention. They will scream and be angry and mutter and stomp until they get their way. And no matter what you do, it will never be enough for them because at their core, they are evil and not to be trusted.

Like I said, I know that isn't reality. Well, MOST of me knows that isn't reality. There is always a part that won't accept it though. That part of me, the little girl who is so pathetically happy that her mother left the step-bastard, may never heal enough to accept that it isn't reality.  That part of me may always be sitting in a gas station parking lot and eating candy.  She'll stare at her reflection in the window and smile because she knows there will be peace again.