The Album: Pet Shop Boys, actually. Pet Shop Boys
The Story: My sojourn at the other school did not last long. The people I needed lived in Poteau and I just couldn't fix my narrative at the new school. It was all wrong. I was all wrong. I came back and sort of pretended like I never left.
It's a good thing I did. The latest Mother's Husband was not the worst of the batch, but he was still more than I could tolerate. He was trying all the usual tricks.
Anyway, I soon found myself in the same cycle of someone with no power over me trying to intimidate me into thinking he did. There was a misunderstanding between and my grandmother, it had nothing to do with him, but the whole 'grounded from all the things' was declared. I told him no. He told me I would do what he said in his house.
When he said that, I hit my second time of that cold, pure calm. I did the smile. I began to tell him the purchase history of the home he was standing in and how it had come to my mother's possession. Her house. HERS. And the fact that he had, and this is a direct quote, what I assumed was 'a small, ugly, disfigured, and deeply disappointing penis' gave him no standing in this house, nor would it ever.
So he said he was leaving my mom. I was THRILLED! This was the quickest we'd gotten rid of one of these bastards! But then my mom cried and told me I wouldn't be ruining another one of her marriages and that I was grounded and blah blah blah.
I realized I couldn't win this. I had to leave. This time, I'd be the one leaving my mom. I moved in with my grandparents and breathed easy for the first time in months. I drew a line in the sand. She didn't cross it, so I had to. I accepted it had to be this way.
It still hurt though. My mother gave birth to me when she was 19, so for those first 19 years, the egg that would be me was part of her internal ecosystem. The first colonies of microbes to become part of me originated in her. It's crushing to be separated from that very fundamental and vital part of who you are. In this case, it was my best option.
To escape that pain, I needed something bitter and salty to sink my teeth into. I found that in Actually.
I'd love PSB since the first mesmerizing notes of "West End Girls" but Actually was the first album of theirs I owned. PSB could take synth to a level like no one else could, as they once wrote themselves, 'Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat.'
While the music of Actually soothed me, it was the lyrics that I needed. This album is so jaded. I mean, granted, it still has one of my favorite love songs "Heart," but it also has a song with a chorus that ends 'I love you, you pay my rent.'
The truly healing thing was the repeated phrase of 'what have I done to deserve this?' and the amazing way Neil Tennant's voice blended with Dusty Springfield's. It's just glorious. I would listen to that song for hours.
I have no idea what happened to that cassette. I probably wore it out and just didn't replace it because I'd moved on to other music. In fact, it wasn't until I moved in with my current roommate that I rekindled my love for PSB. However, when I was 15, they kept me going.
Thank you to: my grandparents, for taking my troubled and difficult self into their home. There is no gift like the gift of a safety.
The Lesson Learned: I learned to walk away. The problem is, I learned this lesson from a place of damage so I find I'm too apt to do it. I always tell friends not to ask for my advice on relationships or jobs because my answer is always 'leave.'
I walked away from people and situations when I shouldn't have. I hurt people because of this. Sometimes, like in the case of my mom, it was needed for my own sanity. Other times, I did it because I was only prioritizing me when other, deserving people deserved some priority as well.
I spent a lot of time in my room when I left mom's house. I needed to just secure my own space. I got used to that stillness and that quiet. It made me emotionally distant. I let things drift, don't send messages, don't call. I get quiet because I assume people want the quiet.
That's the hell of the damage we get in life. I healed my sense of abandonment the wrong way. It made me disassociated with things and people. It made it easier for me to be the one who abandoned others.
If I did this to you, I sincerely apologize.
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