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«  Tue.01.09.2001  »
4:16 pm EST        27°F (-3°C) in Dearborn
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It's over.

Any shreds of hope of maintaining a relationship with my parents disappeared today, after 20 years, 11 months, and 15 days of futile attempts at reconciliation.

The enormity of it hits me, just before the simplicity: it's over.

My parents have officially drowned in the quicksand of their views of me. They are beyond revivability. The line on the heart monitor screen has gone flat. I have finally given up.

By the end of this week, I should have most items vital to my survival in a friend's house. I hope to stay there for a few months, just long enough to get my psyche and my life back on track, get a job, start paying off some debts, and recover from the extreme psychological harm my parents have caused me for 21 years. Right up until the end, they denied that the problems are theirs — I am firmly convinced they will never learn. They will go to their graves never realizing what they've done to me. I hope they're not expecting me to attend the funerals.

I have given up making attempts to ameliorate the situation here. Twenty-one years of that has left me almost without a soul, a hollow shell of my true self. I know I shouldn't go on hating my parents, but I am left with a choice between that and hating myself. If my parents want to build a new relationship down the road, that's up to them — otherwise, I will go on without contacting them. They will not have a phone number or an address for me; we will not exchange Christmas cards; we will avoid contact with each other to the extent possible, given three miles' separation.

My parents have made it clear to me that they've likewise given up caring; my mother even said she wouldn't stop me from killing myself if I tried it. My father can't seem to get in touch with any emotion except anger, and my sister — the family's voice of reason — has decided to side with my parents here, not surprising considering the position in which she finds herself.

It's going to be very difficult to shed 21 years' worth of emotional baggage. I wish my parents were more willing to make things work for me, but they obviously just can't bring themselves to care. They'll like having one less mouth to feed, less electrical and water usage, and one unoccupied bed in the house. Maybe they'll learn, maybe they won't — either way, I just don't care anymore.

Fortunately, this computer is my property, so I should be able to continue updating this site as long as I can make dial-up connections. Assuming I survive, you can still expect to see me here from time to time.