When I was 9, I had a hamster. His name was Brownie, and he was a long-haired brown and white teddy bear hamster. He was awesome, and was the first pet I really loved. Brownie used to sit in my shirt pocket, and I spent hours with him every day. He had a neat plastic cage in my basement with an attached wheel, loop, and attic.
One morning, Brownie was gone. Vanished. I enlisted my family to search for him, but we had no luck. I cried for hours. I held out hope that he would show up again. My family encouraged me that we would find him.
They were all lying. Brownie got out because my dad accidentally forgot to close the attic part of his cage when he fed him that night. He found him less than a week later, after smelling him. He ate into the exposed insulation in the basement and died. My dad and younger sister buried him in the backyard with the rest of the pets that had passed on.
It was over 6 months before I found out what really happened. It crushed me. I dug up the body and cried some more. I guess I'm trying to say that my family has always felt the need to protect me from things that they think will upset me.
I've always been really sensitive. I still cry regularly over the death of my dog 4 years ago. I get upset incredibly easily, and I can stay upset for a long time. Even my boyfriend keeps things from me if he thinks they will bother me, and everyone who knows me well agrees that this is the right thing to do, even though sometimes it comes back and bites them in the ass.
I know everyone has my best interests at heart, but when I really think about it, it bothers me. It stinks that even though I am 27 years old, the people closest to me hide things from me on a pretty regular basis. I wish I had a thicker skin, and could take things in stride like everyone else. Instead, I take everything to heart, and it can eat me up for days, weeks, or longer.
When I get really upset about things, I just go through the motions of taking care of my kids, and I can be lax about it. I've used TV and junk food as a babysitter so I can sit and cry and dwell in bed. It's not like this happens all the time, or for no reason. I'm not depressed or anything. I'm just really sensitive, and things affect me a lot more deeply than they do to others.
It can be isolating. But do I really want people to just shove the truth at me if I can't handle it? I don't know. I guess it's good in a way that the people who care about me try to protect me. I've been through so much crap that sometimes, I think it's good to live in my own little world where people try to keep me happy. On the other hand, I'm never going to be really independent if everyone does this for me forever. I'm super happy being a mom and not having to work, but at the moment, I'm financially dependent on my family. The boyfriend has no job at the moment, so his mom and my mom cover our part of the rent. My parents pay my credit card and gas bills. They buy diapers for my kids. They're the ones paying for my groceries, since I can't afford it.
When I think about it, I have never been financially independent. Throughout college, my parents paid for everything, from my shopping sprees to my luxury apartments. After that, my ex and his family paid for everything, from my dinners out to vacations, to expensive clothes. When I was working, I could afford groceries, as long as I only bought the store brands, and that was it. Now, they pay for everything again.
On a good note, the boyfriend is supposed to start working for his dad again soon, which means he will have his old job back. The one I asked him to quit after T was born because he was at work so much. At least it will pay for the groceries and maybe give me enough money to start paying back my parents for everything they've paid for over the years.
I'm not sure where I really intended to go with this post, or how it ended up here, but it feels better to have gotten it all out.