27 August 2006

Can we just talk?


Distrust, conspiracy, plots and miscommunication. That’s how I’d describe what governs the relationships between people in my family. There’s only four of us, spread across two countries and continents, but it’s ugly and very, very sickening.

I got off the phone today with my parents feeling upset, again. Talking to my mum was alright, but in the less than four minutes I talked to dad it was like talking to a brick wall.

As usual, it was about money, money, money. The problem is that my parents have really poor relationship with my brother, and any sort of communication goes through me. Now, they’ve always distrusted my brother with money, because he can be a big spender sometimes. But when every single time I talk on the phone they (dad in particular) go on to complain and scold me for how my brother is always just spending and not saving it gets very tiresome.

Frankly, what my brother wants to do with his money is his problem. I have my own savings, and make a little from the part-time job I do, and will soon receive a government student grant. I don’t like to get involved financially with him, because he can be very stingy and protective of his own stash. Just today I asked him to lend me some to pay for my health insurance (two months overdue). He huffed and puffed and sighed, gave me the evil stare and silent treatment, and reluctantly agreed. Left me feeling like a complete failure and idiot begging him for money, but I wouldn’t think of doing that at all if I didn’t have to. I told him, I’d pay him back once I have it. He said I don’t have to, but in a tone that was bitter and spiteful. I don’t want to say how great I am, but my goodness, how many times have I helped him out in the past by digging into my own savings, without even thinking of getting anything in return?? I’ve lost count already. And how much does he owe me now? Tens, hundreds, even more than a thousand…

And then there’s the bad attitude. It seems like nobody in this family can talk, just talk and listen to the other speak without ending up all heated and frustrated. Between my mum and me it’s quite fine. We can understand and talk to each other well. But all other relationships seem to be rooted in aggression, suspicion and fear of being stabbed in the back. My parents seem to be in limbo, overshadowed by a suspected extramarital affair on my dad’s part, loosely tied together by a marriage of convenience rather than of love—though to be fair my mum asserts that the situation is improving. As I’ve mentioned between my brother and my parents there’s practically no interaction of any kind. Conversations are brief and blunt. As the days go by, both sides do not understand, let alone can manage to tolerate the other. And between my brother and me, there’s really not that much talking either. We live under the same roof, and talk only on a need-to (know) basis. I try to avoid him if I could, because the atmosphere and air whenever he’s around always seem so tense and suffocating (cigarettes). The condescending tone, that constant demand for respect and assurance that he is boss, and that deadly stare of shame and silence is frankly frightening.

More and more it’s resembling the Cold War, a symbolic analogy I came up with a couple of years ago for the poor state of ‘inter-national relations’ between the four of us. And there does not seem to be an entente in sight. People are either not talking to each other, or when they do, it’s in tones and ways filled with anger, ill feeling and distrust. When need be, they threaten to ‘press the button’ to de-recognise (disown) one another. I often hope that they would, and end this permanent state of war and madness, because there’s really not much that binds up, but a lot that separates us. And by that I mean more than the distance and time difference.

They say you can't choose your family, but can choose your friends. I certainly hope it's the other way around.

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