It's exhausting taking such long breaks between posts because I lose track of what I was talking about and kinda get the wind sucked out of my sails. So, to recap, my parents were divorced, and my mom and the three of us (my brother, sister, and I) moved Fescue in the same neighborhood presumably to finish out the school year before we pressed on to a different location. I remember being in 7th grade... or at least the tail end of it, but this is the point in my Junior High career where I literally remember nothing about school. The fact that much of middle school is a blur doesn't help much, but the latter half of 7th and probably all of 8th are just not there. And I think it's because I was doing my part to balance a shattered family with education, and wrapping the whole mess in a bag full of personal demons and self aggravation. This will eventually lead to me visiting a shrink... but that's not for a while.
In the background my mother quietly began dating a member of my Dad's softball team. I think I mentioned that before. His name was Joe Nardelli, and he was built like a 'fire plug'. Stocky, barrel-chested, and slightly gruff... but all in all a decent guy. I'm not sure what my mom's plans for him were within the family structure. He already had two daughters of his own, right around my age, and there was just something about him that didn't really scream commitment. In fact (though he was around a bit) he never really tried to take on a paternal roll with the three of us, and that might be due to the fact that he new my dad pretty well and it was just really uncomfortable territory. Whatever the case, he wasn't there very long.
One thing I do remember is he took my brother and I out shooting once. Just into the woods with a shotgun and maybe a rifle. Up to that point I had never even held a gun that wasn't either loaded with plastic darts or BB's, or transformed into a robot, so I guess it was pretty exciting. We stood around some big trees and stumps and shot stuff. Seriously. That was it. I guess the guy was a pretty avid hunter, so that was why he had guns and wanted us to learn how to be men. Or else he was a bizarre serial killer with a conscience. Oh well, doesn't matter now.
But all the while, especially during weekends and vacation breaks, I was never home. I just didn't feel comfortable around anyone, especially my mom. It was whispered to me (by my dad, unsurprisingly) that it was her doing that they were divorced and that it was a big surprise to him. Well, since my dad was my dad, and just about the most prominent real-father figure I'd had (even aside from my best friend Kerry, who pretty much stayed out of the divorce advice territory) I believed him and began blaming mom, too. And it was right about then I began to realize that my parents had begun to use me against one another.
At first I didn't catch on. I'd just casually report messages from one to the other like some kind of twisted mailman. But then messages turned into little bits of information that I really didn't think I ought to be knowing about. But then I wised up and started using this little sick tennis match to my advantage. I became manipulative like you read about. I could, nearly every time, get what I want just by making myself seem upset and torn up over the messages I was relaying. And it worked. No divorced couple wants to see their oldest child -the one they were using as their own personal parrot- upset over what was essentially their fault in the first place. Well, I milked it for all it was worth and I got just about anything I wanted. For a while. Because eventually they did wise up. But the ride was fun while it lasted.
So what's next for everyone? Well, let's just say I acquire two Step-Parents in pretty rapid succession. That chapter's about to open wide, kids. Stay tuned...
In the background my mother quietly began dating a member of my Dad's softball team. I think I mentioned that before. His name was Joe Nardelli, and he was built like a 'fire plug'. Stocky, barrel-chested, and slightly gruff... but all in all a decent guy. I'm not sure what my mom's plans for him were within the family structure. He already had two daughters of his own, right around my age, and there was just something about him that didn't really scream commitment. In fact (though he was around a bit) he never really tried to take on a paternal roll with the three of us, and that might be due to the fact that he new my dad pretty well and it was just really uncomfortable territory. Whatever the case, he wasn't there very long.
One thing I do remember is he took my brother and I out shooting once. Just into the woods with a shotgun and maybe a rifle. Up to that point I had never even held a gun that wasn't either loaded with plastic darts or BB's, or transformed into a robot, so I guess it was pretty exciting. We stood around some big trees and stumps and shot stuff. Seriously. That was it. I guess the guy was a pretty avid hunter, so that was why he had guns and wanted us to learn how to be men. Or else he was a bizarre serial killer with a conscience. Oh well, doesn't matter now.
But all the while, especially during weekends and vacation breaks, I was never home. I just didn't feel comfortable around anyone, especially my mom. It was whispered to me (by my dad, unsurprisingly) that it was her doing that they were divorced and that it was a big surprise to him. Well, since my dad was my dad, and just about the most prominent real-father figure I'd had (even aside from my best friend Kerry, who pretty much stayed out of the divorce advice territory) I believed him and began blaming mom, too. And it was right about then I began to realize that my parents had begun to use me against one another.
At first I didn't catch on. I'd just casually report messages from one to the other like some kind of twisted mailman. But then messages turned into little bits of information that I really didn't think I ought to be knowing about. But then I wised up and started using this little sick tennis match to my advantage. I became manipulative like you read about. I could, nearly every time, get what I want just by making myself seem upset and torn up over the messages I was relaying. And it worked. No divorced couple wants to see their oldest child -the one they were using as their own personal parrot- upset over what was essentially their fault in the first place. Well, I milked it for all it was worth and I got just about anything I wanted. For a while. Because eventually they did wise up. But the ride was fun while it lasted.
So what's next for everyone? Well, let's just say I acquire two Step-Parents in pretty rapid succession. That chapter's about to open wide, kids. Stay tuned...
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