Secrets

So, I grew up in an environment of unlocked doors and no privacy allowed.  Letters were not to be kept from my parents, and even if they were, my mom would probably go through our rooms at some point and find them.

Yet, at the same time, there were a lot of secrets.

My dad - I don't know if he kept secrets since he was generally very uncommunicative until he got angry.  He did seem to have to go to the auto parts stores a lot, and he would be gone for hours some times.  And he did take a lot of night classes.  Surely, he had some kind of life outside of the family?

My mom was full of secrets.  I don't know how calculated this was, but she would sometimes tell me something, but not tell one of my sisters.  Or vice versa.  Maybe it was just hard to keep track of who she told what, but at the same time, she was the kind of person who would make sure to tell everyone the same story if it was a good one.  I mean, who doesn't?

My mom would have to ask my dad for money for groceries.  Then she would try not to spend all the money and pocket the rest.  She would build up her own personal savings stash in her prayer book.  Then when one of us needed money, she would use this money to give us.  That way, she wouldn't have to tell my dad.  Or if that was not enough, she would ask my middle sister to borrow the money.  Because usually it was for me or my oldest sister.  My middle sister is very thrifty.  Something that I guess I rebelled against as soon as I got to college.  Now I am still trying to get my financial life in order.

If we went clothes shopping, we would try to hide our purchases from my dad.  He usually could tell when we went shopping and he would make a point to ask what we got.

When my sister secretly got married before her official ceremony, my mom found out.  She kept that secret from my dad.

When my mom found out that my boyfriend (who I ended up marrying) and I were living together, she didn't tell my dad.  And she didn't tell me.  She did act weird though.  Years later when our parents came to New Orleans to meet before our wedding, I had to tell my mom the truth.  I mean, my whole family was going to stay at our apartment.  So, even though my fiance stayed with his family in the hotel, my parents would have figured it out.  My mom acted like this was news to her.  When she asked how long, I replied, "A while."  So, my mom had to tell my dad, but we were getting married, so he didn't really get mad.  After all, this was my only boyfriend that they had ever met.

So, can you blame my mom?  The problem was, that she was the buffer, the interpreter, the shock absorber, the punching bag.  If she had to be the one to deliver bad news to my dad, which she usually was, you better believe that the messenger's life was in danger.  So, she filtered news to my dad.  Everything was on a need to tell you basis.

I had the same dilemma my mom had, time and time again.  So, if I did something wrong - broke something or you know, fucked up the way kids do, I would have the worst anxiety.  I would be scared shitless to tell my dad.  So, I would wait until a "good time".  When the hell is there ever a good time to tell your apeshit tempermental dad bad news?  So, I would put it off, and put it off.  And then he would find out.  And then he would be doubly pissed.  He would be pissed for whatever it was that I did - broke a piano key, or spilled food on the new couch or watched TV and watched the color go haywire and not work properly.  Then he would be pissed for me not telling him sooner.  I think he even tried to pull that bullshit that "if you come to me and you are honest, I will not get mad.  When you hide things from me, I will get mad."  Always wanting to do what was right, the next time I told him right away of my offense.  He got mad.  Was he less mad that I told him right away.  Not in the least.

With BPD, from what I've read and witnessed, anger is a surge, a rush of adrenaline, like a shot of whiskey injected into a vein.  And, yeah, I've felt that myself.  But I've realized how irrational it can be to be in a blind rage over things that are innocent accidents or unavoidable.  Shit happens.  And it sucks.  And we can be pissed.  But usually, our anger doesn't resolve anything in a positive outcome.

So, living with my dad, I learned to hold things in.  If I had a secret I needed to keep from him, I had better be very vigilant.

Now, the funny thing is, I am known to be horrible at keeping secrets.  If it's a secret of no consequence, or it's juicy gossip, then yeah, I probably will spill it.  However, if it's something extremely important, I can keep it.  If I have to.

So, I have a secret I've been keeping from my dad.  Well, he might know, but I haven't told him.

We are moving to south Florida.  So, we will be several hours south of him.  It won't be a situation where we can go up there every week.  Maybe once every six weeks?

We don't have a place to stay yet, and we don't have jobs.  If I told him that, he would have many questions and probably tell us we are stupid.  Is it stupid to move like this?  To some people.  But this is how we have always moved.  Just find an apartment when we get there, find jobs after that, find our life.  Sure, as one gets older, it seems riskier and riskier to move like this.  But what the hell.

So, I did tell my one cousin.  He and his partner bought a house in Pompano Beach last year.  They live here in California, but they want to move their business to Florida.  He told me not to tell anyone about his house.  I told him not to tell anyone we are moving.  So, I kept his secret.  I haven't really talked to any other relatives lately, so that's easy.  I don't know if he kept my secret.  If he told just one person though, one wrong person, then the whole family would know.  Just like that.

Oh, I am facebook friends with some of my relatives, but they don't really go on facebook much.  If they have gone on my facebook page in the last month though, they would know.  And the whole family would know.

But I really don't want to tell my dad until I can at least tell him where we are living.  And even then, I feel like I should wait until we have jobs.  That way he can't tell us we're idiots for moving across the country without leads when the economy is in the dumps.

So, if you see my dad, please don't tell him.