My mom told me a little more about the conversation that she had with her sister yesterday. Apparently, my aunt said that I have been trying to tear the family apart my entire life. Ah, yes, those joyous years when I was a toddler and only wanted to spend time with my aunt were clearly my way of pushing her away. And don’t forget all the times that I wanted to spend time around other members of the family at things like family reunions, which my aunt didn’t always want to go to. I guess going to those was my way of securing my power base or something. And my whole not talking much (or at all) must have been another way for me to rip the family apart.
Obviously, I’ve always been of a villainous mindset. This explains my fascination with Tiny Toons and Animaniacs—Pinky & the Brain in particular. Here I thought that I loved that show because it was funny, but it must have been obvious to experts in criminal psychology that I watched it because I identified with the megalomaniac tendencies of The Brain. I probably learned even more about being a sociopath from the classic cartoon series that I watched in daycare and at home. I was just learning techniques to become an awesome evil overlord.
Oh. My. God.
This woman must have hated me forever if she thinks that I’m that sinister. I don’t know why she ever bothered spending time with me as a kid if I was so horrible. Maybe she just liked to play with me because I was the daughter that she never had. Maybe she thought that her saintly influence could change me for the better. Apparently, it didn’t. I’m surprised that she didn’t sacrifice me on an altar using special daggers that she got from some creepy priest in Israel. Oh, wait. That’s a scene from The Omen.
How can she think that she’s the most stable member of the family if she thinks that for the last 29 years that I’ve been out to ruin everyone’s lives? Yes, I made a snarky post when I was 18. Yes, I made another when I was almost 27. And yes, I continued to make snarky posts, as I continued to get hateful feedback from her part of the family, after that post when I was 27. And yes I complained on Twitter about the things that she said to Nana about our family. I will admit to doing those things, but I didn’t do it to mess up the family and I have never wanted to wreck the family.
I wonder if she hung with me so fast that day that I (politely) talked to her on the phone (without her knowing it was me) because she thought that I was somehow going to cast an evil spell on her. Or maybe she didn’t like that I was actually nice to her when she called. Maybe that freaked her out. Well, it shouldn’t have. There are these things called manners that some of us have. We can actually be civilized when on the phone with people that we know think we’re the scum of the earth. Not everything has to be a drama-fest or an evil plot.
God. My therapist was right last year when she said I should write a book about this family. It seems like we’re some kind of fictional dysfunctional family that you might find in a suspense or horror novel…or a semi-fictionalized version of Augusten Burroughs’ life. Well, I better go. I’ve got to find another way to occupy my time since my aunt obviously knows about my sinister plan to isolate myself from almost all of my relatives.