What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Wednesday, July 17, 2002

DISAPPOINTED

Tonight, my stepmother informed me that she and my father had a fight last week in which my father blamed her for the disappointing lives of my sister and I (neither of us are making wads of money at the moment). In his logic, we would have turned out just fine if our stepmother hadn't been meddling like that Scooby Doo gang -- a nice bit of projection, no? She defended herself, of course, but only on the charge of responsibility -- she loathes my sister and didn't exactly make like Roger Daltrey and proclaim that the kids are alright.

It's been hours and I still don't know how to feel about it all. There's anger, obviously, at being used as a stick to beat my stepmother with (figuratively, of course). There's guilt, since the whole point would be moot if I were the toast of the town. Mostly, there's intense disappointment. Is it the natural order of things for children to disappoint the expectations of their parents? And, if so, what happens when the parents disappoint the children?

Nothing new there, I'm afraid -- my expections were dashed long ago -- but it raises strange questions. While my childhood was certainly rocky, it was hardly a traumatic one and I'm not one of these Oprah guests who blames his failings on poor parenting. I always joked that, if I blamed my parents for my shortcomings, I'd logically have to thank them for my good points, but I won't. While my parents were obviously involved in my development, I did most of the heavy lifting from a young age onwards. I may not be the Jay Gatsby self-made man and my life's not fantastic these days but I'm generally happy with how I turned out. I wish my parents felt the same way but, instead, they seem to consider me a failure and blame themselves (or each other) for it. So one of these arguments is wrong, but which? How do know if (or when) you're a failure? And wouldn't it be harder to become a success when your loved ones are convinced you're worthless? And, if so, wouldn't that just be a convenient excuse for giving up? And can you know they feel this way and love them nevertheless?

My head hurts...I'm going to sleep...