Jealousy & Surface

"Jealousy is an ugly thing.  And so are you, in anything backless."

Sophia Petrillo to her daughter, Dorothy Zbornak.

I've gotten used to a healthy mixture of jealousy and pride when I see the accomplishments of so many of my creative friends.  There's always the "I'm so damned happy for you", but then the little tingle of "I wish that had been me".  I've grown accustomed to it and accept it.  It's part of my life in "the biz".  Perhaps unhealthy, but acceptable in my eyes.

But where my jealousy starts to go off of the rails -- is when I see happy, normal, well-adjusted family lives.

I simply don't have that -- although I had glimpses of it throughout my childhood.

And yes, I am aware that the photos and posts and lovey-dovey stuff we see, sometimes hides the true pain and resentment underneath.  People put up their best faces. 

But I don't even have the surface peace so many might enjoy.

Yes.  I've come to consider my other half as family.  And I try not to take him and our 20-year relationship for granted.  But my immediate family is so damned disjointed now, it's hard to believe that it was ever an actual unit -- if indeed, it actually was.

So many folks are dead now, or were never present in my formative years -- or in some cases -- both.

(this is all coming to a head because of my biological father's recent death -- and our lack of a relationship for the past 35 years).

I see happiness between multiple generations, and I crave it.  Have I been conditioned to want this, or believe that this is "the tops" as far as familial bonds?  Whatever it is, I find myself longing for such bonds.

Large family gatherings -- where we play cards, eat hearty, homecooked meals and listen to old stories from the past.

It's not as if I never had this -- there were years of happiness, but over the past two decades (was the death of our matriarch and my beloved grandmother, the beginning of the end?) -- things have dwindled, until I'm at my current point.  So many of my elders (both close and far) are dead now.  My relationship with my mother is nothing more than surface talk about the weather.  I love my siblings, but only speak to one of them on the regular.  I have little to no contact with extended family -- cousins, aunts, uncles -- outside of the surface connection that is social media.

I've been toying with the notion of writing my autobiography -- for many years now.  And it seems, with the emotional tolls I've been struggling with over the past week (between my father's death and my aunt's death today) -- that now might be a good time to dig into this quagmire of memories, resentment, joy, pain and everything in between.  I've got a lot to get off of my chest, which is why my working title on the autobiography is "Cheap Therapy".

But the point of this discussion, is the feeling of jealousy -- as I see friends with deep and seemingly strong connections with their elders, their cousins and most notably, their parents.  Pictures of a happy family (and all that this encompasses -- at least in my goody two-shoes brain) make me feel bad that my family is so broken, so disconnected and so beyond repair.

I can't discount the love and connection I have with so many chosen family members (friends with whom I share a bond) and of course, my husband. 

But the human mind and the emotions which inhabit it -- are strange things.  I can't just shut off this need for a larger family unit.  I had it, and apparently, I want it back.

"Cheap Therapy".  That's the name of the game here.  And even if I never actually tackle the ol' autobiography, and throw all of my dirty laundry up for everyone to see, marvel at and judge -- there's always this blog to let off some steam.

I'm glad your family units are wide and vast and healthy.  And of course, I don't wish anyone ill-will -- but I would love some of that over here, to share with me and my hubby.

PS.  Writing this on a half bottle of wine...