I'm Free...Or So I Thought

I’ve never agreed with my parents’ logical extremes and warped philosophies in life. Their misguided loyalty to society or other inaccessible sources, low priority for happiness and self-fulfillment, self-criticizing, unrealistic expectations, and endless punishment for inevitable failures to meet their demands always seemed cruel, twisted, unproductive, and unrewarding to me. I always told myself that when I have the opportunity to move out and live my life freely, I would spend my time more positively. Because I spent my entire upbringing vehemently disagreeing with their methods, it didn’t dawn on me how much of their attitudes exist within me. I was raised to live without flaws and errors, that mistakes exist only within negligent people unwilling to remedy the problems in their lives. Problems should never exist. But I seem to be slow in the head, so somehow I manage to pollute my life with them. It’s unacceptable, and it’s vital for me to rectify them immediately under any and all circumstances. Nothing else is to be done or addressed until the problem is resolved. It’s the only thing in my life worth focusing on. If I’m so convinced that there are other priorities and other important things in life, even though I’m wrong, I can’t get back to it until my life resumes error-free. That’s the burden that weighed on me. I didn’t think it was fair, I didn’t agree with at all, and I was and am determined to live a more honest and realistic life. Life is messy, no matter what. It’s a blessing and a curse. I don’t care what my parents have to say about it. Apparently having enough common sense to see the faults in my parents’ way of thinking wasn’t enough for me to escape their asinine point of view. I came to that realization when budgeting became a challenge for me. Instead of calmly approaching the problem and asking my boyfriend for help, I suffered through it helplessly in a constant state of panic. It surprised me because I’m not afraid to admit my mistakes, ask for help when I need it, and I trust my boyfriend. I go to him when I usually have problems, so my reaction is very unlike me. I just got into a OCD mindset where nothing else could be bothered with until this problem is corrected. I found myself nutritiously deprived, imbalanced, and sleepless. I was too busy focusing on one problem that I didn’t realize what I was doing or, more importantly, what I wasn’t doing. It came to me as a shock. My parents would be proud, but I’ve never been more ashamed of myself. I’ve made far greater mistakes, but I’m an adult now. I should know better. My boyfriend shouldn’t have to tell me that whatever financial dilemma I’m in should never excuse starvation. He grew up poor, and they didn’t have much. They had to make a lot of sacrifices growing up, but his parents have always stressed that food is non-negotiable. I didn’t grow up in poverty, quite the opposite, but anything and everything would be sacrificed in a heartbeat at the chance of being “perfect.” It’s not enough to violently disagree with it. I really have to see within myself to realize where those twisted theories exist in me. I never went looking for them because I didn’t believe it was a part of me. That was my greatest mistake.