Friday, July 2, 2010

systems of avoidance

this week, with the help of a really smart friend, i re-wrote my statement of purpose for NYU
i talked about my interest in systems of avoidance and socially orchestrated silence
-both in the family and the community-
i talked about acts of violence being seemingly the only means of response in cultures of oppression
i talked about a lot of things with big heady words and sociological painted views
but in the end, i am just trying to understand my family and myself
a found a diary that had been unearthed when Mike re-designed my closet.
the diary is from 1991. it has two "little twin stars" (a couple of sanrio characters)
on the inside cover i wrote my first and last name and then squeezed in my middle name
then on the first page i write, "written by Lindsey Anthony."
as if i was already trying to write my memoirs at ten years old.
i start the entry by saying i am ten years old and its the "hardest age I've gone through since."
I go on to talk about my mother being an alcoholic and explain that it is because she was abused by her parents.
i have a vague memory of writing this entry while sitting on our old brown couch and looking at our fake christmas tree. i go on in the entry about what happened that day which i remember vividly.
but in reading the entry, i was not struck by what i had been through but more about why i had the information i did.
while i admit i was a very precocious child, and i am sure i demanded answers when my mother spiraled down, i am wondering why i was told all the things i was told.
i can see where my opinions that eventually became identifying characteristics were skewed, filtered, given to me at a time when i should have been protected.
like how my brother had been protected.
my father made a joke the other day about how maybe i could "support him for once"
and i'd like to tell him, "that's all i ever do."
the diary had another entry a few months later, when my mom just came home from betty ford
and then another entry a few months later, just six days before she left.
i found the diary in 97 and wrote another entry in it
i was 14 and pissed off, and painfully dramatic
and then there is another entry in 98 where i claim my father is a "saint."
it is interesting and painful to see this stuff, but i'm really glad i am finding it now
and reading it with a new set of eyes finally.
i don't want to be pissed off at my dad for ten years.
and in the end there's no way i can let myself be mad at all at him.
he will always be the one who stayed.
i just need some time and space to process things, something i  have never given myself.
in 1992, my ten-year old self wrote, "Memories and memories all done in the past but still follow in the future.It doesn't matter if it was years ago. It stays with you."

2 comments:

Carmen said...

does your dad read this blog? what would happen if he did?

tony said...

he doesn't read the blog and i'm not sure what would happen if he did.