"Nothing Feels Better than Blood on Blood"

I went to hear a friend of mine play in a "Nebraska" tribute concert last week. In it local musicians played songs from the Bruce Springsteen album. My friend just happened to be singing the song "Highway Patrolman," my favourite song on the album. She has an incredible voice, one that puts you in mind of Tori Amos, Feist, or Regina Spektor - so anything she sings tears at your gut a bit. But hearing her sing the lyrics to that particular song got to me a bit more than it had previously. There is a line in "Highway Patrolman" that is repeated over and over again - A man turns his back on his family, he just ain't no good. Each time she sang it I found it harder to bare.

So many times I have questioned how much is too much when family is concerned. How many betrayals or hurtful words? How many abandonments in times of peril? How much criticism, in jest or otherwise? How much does one tolerate before coming to the conclusion that being away from the people who brought you into this world is a better place to be than near them?

My parents were good parents in so many ways. They sacrificed so I could have things I wanted and needed, they told me they loved me, they stayed civil to each other where possible so that my sister and I would not end up in the middle of a custody battle. When I told my mother of the abuse I was experiencing at the hands of her boyfriend, she left him without taking time to ask any questions. My father attended every sporting event, school play and academic awards ceremony the school put on. They kept me clean, housed and fed every day of my life. They did the very best they could do. But they also threw things at me and called me names when they were angry, they tried to take their own life and told me it was my fault. They spent my college fund from my grandmother on their own education and never paid it back. They promised to help me pay for college and instead took out a loan in my name and never paid it - leaving me in debt, with bad credit and having to drop out of school. They told me they hated the person I had become and that it was no wonder the people I loved were ashamed of me. They told my husband "It's a good thing she's pretty, because otherwise she would be impossible to put up with." But I forgive the bad things, because I know it was the very best that they could do.

When I turned 18 I left home and never looked back. The panic attacks stopped then. The compulsion to starve myself left me. I felt safe and steady for the first time in my life. My sister, who has dubbed herself the family caretaker, criticizes my failure to return home. She says I am ashamed of my family and where I come from, that I think I am better than them. She is partially right. But it is not them I am ashamed of, it is who I become when I am around them. Instantaneously I am defensive, self-conscious and panicked. I want to lock myself in the bathroom and throw up until I feel better. I want to crawl into bed and wake up when they are all gone. I want to jump up and down and scream "let me talk! I am important too!" I want to scoop my brother up and take him away with me so he doesn't grow up to be afraid of his own shadow, convinced that nothing he does is good enough and that he is somehow emotionally stunted or deranged.

These days when I'm home I am faced with parents who can't pay their own bills, who are manic depressive but refuse to seek treatment, who are home and hungover in the middle of the work day, who are in so much debt they can't get normal credit to buy a car but still go regularly to the casino for the weekend. I have to walk on eggshells while I try to figure out what mood my mother is in, or make sure I don't call too late in the evening in case my dad is drunk (or worse). But when I am away, my family and I are protected by the novelty of our interaction. My relationship with mom, dad, sister and brother can be based on when we want to see and speak to each other. Mum and I can talk when she feels like it (usually about once per month). She can look at photos of me and send me cards, pretending we have that lovely mother-daughter thing she has always wanted. Dad and I can talk when he has a lull in his social schedule. He can continue to see me as the 16 year-old who thought he was the sun and the moon, who curled up in his lap to watch Dawson's Creek and eat Ben and Jerry's together. Far away from me, my sister thinks that I am a bit of a sage to ask advice of. We can leave little private jokes on Facebook and reminisce about childhood memories. My brother finds me to be something of an exotic creature living in a far off land - someone to talk about during show-and-tell and who sends him presents in the mail. I like this version of my relationship with them. Being near them just means reverting to...(see above).

A man turns his back on his family, he just ain't no good.

Is this me? Have I walked out because of such little things? Have I closed the door on the people who gave me life and made me who I am because sometimes they yelled at me? I didn't get beaten, or molested, or starved. They certainly gave me a better life than they had. What kind of a woman says "I am better off without them," even if that is how she really feels? How do I make myself a better person, so that I can love the person I am both with and without them? Is it wrong to take the easy way out?

AJ, if you are reading this, I love you, mom and dad so much. I just hate myself when you're around.