The Epic Saga Pt. 2 (finally, sorry Keri!)

I didn't realize anyone read this stupid blog so, obviously, I abandoned it. But since I came back and saw that Keri demanded the rest of the saga, I've come back to finish it out. After that, I'm not sure if this little thing will keep going. But we shall see...

The Epic Saga continues in 3... 2...

It's been a long while since all of this went down and so many things have arisen since that it's hard to document the whole damn thing. I've been in counseling for it. I've talked to friends about it. I've spent hours fixing it with my brother. Here's the skinny version of what happened after the dreaded dinner at Outback.

My brother spent the night in town then took me out to brunch the next day to make sure I was alright. I wasn't, but I was dealing with it. We laid out a plan of what we needed to accomplish.

Over the next few months, we found out that I was adopted by Mike and Karen, that my school was being paid for, my car was being paid for, I had insurance on my car, and I hadn't wracked up any surprise debts. Without taking into account the emotional toll it took, I escaped relatively wound free. I got a job, started saving my own money, and began to be autonomous. Being around my parents, however, has never been the same.

August rolled around and trouble began again in the form of a 'lost' rent check. Recognizing this as an old trick, I swiftly found a place to stay that I could pay for and moved out. I told my parents the night I moved into my new place. I then got two additional jobs, worked 50+ hours a week, attended college full time, and didn't die. I, to this day, have no idea how I survived that time.

I applied to Iowa State University for the rest of my schooling after Kirkwood and was accepted but found that I had a much more difficult obstacle to tackle than merely getting in: the FAFSA. You see, in order to get any substantial sum of money, which I would need if I wanted to further my education at all, one needs their parents' tax information to make sure that they qualify for the money. My parents would not, under any circumstance, give me any information. Jayson talked to them, told them flat out that I could not go to school if they didn't give me the information, but they wouldn't budge. Turns out that the reason they refused was because they hadn't (and still haven't) filed taxes in over ten years. Not a typo. Over. 10. Years.

Thus began my fight for independent status. I could not be considered independent because I 1) was not married; 2) had no children; 3) was not in the military; 4) was not homeless; and 5) was not an orphan. I also was unwilling to make any of those conditions happen. So we filed for a 'special circumstance' independent status through Iowa State's financial aid office. This entailed writing an essay about my situation, two reference letters from people who were familiar with my situation, and a meeting. My meeting was set for the afternoon after orientation in June. I went through an entire orientation to Iowa State without knowing if I was going to be able to attend. It felt like my future rode on this single meeting and in a way, it did. I almost cried when they told me I'd received the independent status.

I lived with Shawn that summer, we got kittens, I was going to go to school, everything was perfect except for my family life. My parents demanded I talk to them every day and since they were paying for my telephone and car and had a nasty habit of complete rejection and grudge holding when pissed off and my sister still lived at home, I felt I had to do it. Once a day turned to twice, twice to three times. One evening after not answering the phone because I was working on one of my many projects and papers that being in 'real college' entailed, my mother and father called Shawn and I a total of 16 times. In three hours. Then proceeded to be pissed off that we hadn't answered. This wasn't the first time it happened and wouldn't be the last.

Sometime during my first semester at Iowa State, something broke inside me and I stopped trying to please them. I stopped pretending to be interested in what they were telling me for the thirty third time this week. I distanced myself. I only went home once every couple of months. Eventually, they got the hint, I believe, and stopped calling all the time. I'm down to once-ish a week, now. I cannot explain how liberating it is; how much happier, relaxed, and at ease I am.

I've been angry, irritated, frustrated, sad, confused, and have been let down. But I feel like I'm in a place now where I can say "this is what happened to me. This is how it is. There is nothing in my power that I can do about it so I have accepted it and moved on with my life, what I want, and have embraced living on my own, without having this burden on me." This is thanks in large part to Shawn, Darwin and Tesla, and my lovely counselor Sarah. Though I will always have to keep a watchful eye on my assets, my accounts, and my parents until they die, I feel prepared to do so in a way that does not hinder my ability to live a full and happy life. Above all, I have learned that is is ok and normal to feel any and all of the feelings I've felt which is more help than anyone could have ever explained.

And so concludes (it's never going to end, but still...) the saga. For more information, similar situation advice and help, or to just say hi, feel free to contact me. We hope you've enjoyed that show.