So, I was looking up auditions for plays coming up at the little theatre here, and it reminded me of my old best friend, how he's really into the dramatic arts, and how we were in a few plays together. As soon as I got done writing down all the audition dates and went to my facebook page, there was a message. I opened it up and it was from him. He told me that one of my best friends and he were talking and thought it would be a great idea for me and him to get together.
I automatically started crying. These were tears of joy though as a huge relief came over me and my heart filled with joy to just see that he is making an effort to be friends still. There's so much that I need to tell him. First off, I need to apologize to him for ever pushing him away and not being totally honest with him about what was going on in my life. I also need to apologize for not being accepting of who he was back in high school.
I need to explain to him that I am so not that person I was before. I'm no longer judgmental, I no longer hold a grudge for anything that's happened in the past between us, and I no longer keep things in like I did. I probably need to tell him about this blog. It's the only way I know to tell him what I went through because if I try to explain this to him, I will burst into tears.
I don't think this visit will be awkward at all. I pray that we can get all of our feelings out on the table and make them disappear once and for all. Hopefully I don't see him, hug him and burst into tears, but we'll see. I really really hope to have a great reunion and get a life time friend out of this. I've missed him so much.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Mob Wives
So I know I'm a loser for doing so, but I watch Mob Wives. My husband and I got into it basically because of the stupid drama that's so intriguing. It's crazy how other people's drama and hurt can be so interesting to people. It makes me wonder if I went on a tv show, how many people would watch, no I take that back. I know millions of people would watch. I would have those flashbacks with paid actors to play the part of my hurtful childhood, and come back to me now just as a tear was falling down my cheek. Yeah, it's pretty messed up isn't it? I really don't understand why people want to be famous so badly that they would open themselves up to sadness and grieving almost every day of their life.
Anyways, Mob Wives is about wives and daughters of "Mob Kings". They share very painful details of how they had to grow up with father's in jail, and how they have had to raise their kids by themselves because their husbands are in jail for robbing a bank, or worse. I don't feel bad for the wives because they chose their life. They knew who they were marrying when they married them. I feel a great sense of empathy for the women who grew up with fathers in jail, because they didn't have a choice. You can't choose who your parents are. It's really crazy how much I have in common with these women, they grew up with limited visits to their father, they looked for people to take away the pain of not having a father figure in their life, they have to go through a lot of therapy to feel better and get things off of their chest. People judge them, and hate them without even knowing them. People don't give them a fair chance at anything because of who they are kin to. This takes me back to people in my old church judging me. I hated that, and felt so betrayed, just like these women do.
When my husband and I are watching Mob Wives together, I usually try to hide my face because a lot of the time the women are talking to someone about how their father wasn't there for them, and how much that hurts them. Of course I start crying because I know exactly how that feels. How sick is that that I feel empathy towards Mobster's daughters?!
This was just a random thought that I had today, and figured I would write about it. By the way, I would never recommend watching this show, it's stupid and juvenile, and I don't even know why I still watch it, but something about it has gotten me hooked. ::Sigh::
Anyways, Mob Wives is about wives and daughters of "Mob Kings". They share very painful details of how they had to grow up with father's in jail, and how they have had to raise their kids by themselves because their husbands are in jail for robbing a bank, or worse. I don't feel bad for the wives because they chose their life. They knew who they were marrying when they married them. I feel a great sense of empathy for the women who grew up with fathers in jail, because they didn't have a choice. You can't choose who your parents are. It's really crazy how much I have in common with these women, they grew up with limited visits to their father, they looked for people to take away the pain of not having a father figure in their life, they have to go through a lot of therapy to feel better and get things off of their chest. People judge them, and hate them without even knowing them. People don't give them a fair chance at anything because of who they are kin to. This takes me back to people in my old church judging me. I hated that, and felt so betrayed, just like these women do.
When my husband and I are watching Mob Wives together, I usually try to hide my face because a lot of the time the women are talking to someone about how their father wasn't there for them, and how much that hurts them. Of course I start crying because I know exactly how that feels. How sick is that that I feel empathy towards Mobster's daughters?!
This was just a random thought that I had today, and figured I would write about it. By the way, I would never recommend watching this show, it's stupid and juvenile, and I don't even know why I still watch it, but something about it has gotten me hooked. ::Sigh::
Monday, June 20, 2011
Father's day
Well, as you all know, yesterday was fathers day, and what did I do for my father? I gave him a phone call. I just didn't have the money to go down to my hometown so I stayed home and did school work. For a while I felt bad about not being able to get him anything, but he said "baby you've given me a place to stay and took me to the beach, I'm pretty sure you've given me enough." He's right. I'm letting him stay in my house rent free and I'm feeding him. I shouldn't feel bad about not being able to afford a gift or card for him for father's day.
Something definitely pissed me off yesterday though. My brother didn't call my dad til after 3 in the afternoon, and dad was getting pretty mad about it. My brother isn't really a planner, he just kind of goes with the flow and doesn't really give 2 shits about anything. He does his own thing and doesn't care who he hurts in the process, especially if they've hurt him before. Dad was so mad he was telling me he was going to turn off his phone and just say "fuck it, my son doesn't care about me." I talked him out of it and said that he would call because he told me he would and he wouldn't not see his own father on fathers day.
You would think the thing that pissed me off was my brother not really caring about father's day, but it wasn't. It was the fact that dad expected my brother to go out of his way to call him when he himself has gone missing weeks at a time, hell he went missing a few weeks ago and was supposed to hang out with my brother. He blew him off for a one night stand, or something like that, and expects my brother to drop his life, spend money on him and forget that? I don't fucking think so, I don't care if is is father's day.
My brother is a lot different from me, the major difference being that he's not forgiving at all. If you fuck him over, that's it, he's done with your ass. What pisses me off the most is that I wonder if dad thinks like this with me. If I didn't call him all the time and constantly talk to him and constantly help him out, would he even call me. I'm the one who calls him, I'm the one who offers my help with him finding a job, I'm the one who gives him a place to stay and puts a meal in front of him, has it gotten to the point where he just expects it? I don't know, but I sure hope he appreciates the hell out of me, cause I could start acting like my brother and not give 2 shits anymore.
I don't know, maybe my dad was just hurt and covering up that hurt with anger. I really wish that my brother and dad could have a healthy relationship though, not that mine is, at least not a fully healthy relationship. I just wish they could get along without getting butt hurt when something doesn't work out. Sometimes I feel like their fucking mom, and I just don't feel like dealing with their bullshit. Yesterday was definitely one of those days.
Something definitely pissed me off yesterday though. My brother didn't call my dad til after 3 in the afternoon, and dad was getting pretty mad about it. My brother isn't really a planner, he just kind of goes with the flow and doesn't really give 2 shits about anything. He does his own thing and doesn't care who he hurts in the process, especially if they've hurt him before. Dad was so mad he was telling me he was going to turn off his phone and just say "fuck it, my son doesn't care about me." I talked him out of it and said that he would call because he told me he would and he wouldn't not see his own father on fathers day.
You would think the thing that pissed me off was my brother not really caring about father's day, but it wasn't. It was the fact that dad expected my brother to go out of his way to call him when he himself has gone missing weeks at a time, hell he went missing a few weeks ago and was supposed to hang out with my brother. He blew him off for a one night stand, or something like that, and expects my brother to drop his life, spend money on him and forget that? I don't fucking think so, I don't care if is is father's day.
My brother is a lot different from me, the major difference being that he's not forgiving at all. If you fuck him over, that's it, he's done with your ass. What pisses me off the most is that I wonder if dad thinks like this with me. If I didn't call him all the time and constantly talk to him and constantly help him out, would he even call me. I'm the one who calls him, I'm the one who offers my help with him finding a job, I'm the one who gives him a place to stay and puts a meal in front of him, has it gotten to the point where he just expects it? I don't know, but I sure hope he appreciates the hell out of me, cause I could start acting like my brother and not give 2 shits anymore.
I don't know, maybe my dad was just hurt and covering up that hurt with anger. I really wish that my brother and dad could have a healthy relationship though, not that mine is, at least not a fully healthy relationship. I just wish they could get along without getting butt hurt when something doesn't work out. Sometimes I feel like their fucking mom, and I just don't feel like dealing with their bullshit. Yesterday was definitely one of those days.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Why can't I let this go?
I've been without my computer for almost a week so I haven't been able to update, and trust me I felt like I was going to die.
Anyways, as you all know my dad has been staying with me for a week now and it's been great. We've been applying for jobs and fixing his resume, we've been watching movies and cooking together; it's been great. Today he got a call from a friend 20 minutes from my hometown and said he has work for him to do tomorrow where he will be making $10 an hour. He needs the money and definitely needs the work, so of course he took this guy up on his offer.
He told me about it and I said that I don't like the mind set he's in when he's in my hometown, and I don't like that he's going to be that close to it. He looked at me, smiled and said, "Don't sugar coat it baby." I looked away and tried to act like I was happy he had work, but I just couldn't do it. It's temporary work that will pay his bills for another month, and I should feel happy for him, and it's not like he won't be back here where I live next week. I don't know why this stressed me out so much, I just can't get it out of my head that he will relapse. I can't get it out of my head that he will end up disappearing and never come back.
I helped him pack his stuff, and got all of his paperwork together so he could study for a test he has coming up soon. I helped him get everything in his car, and gave him a big bear hug and he said "I'll see you on Sunday for father's day." I nodded and watched him get in the car and drive off.
Why can't I just trust him and let him do his own thing without feeling this painful hand on my heart threatening to rip it out of my chest? Why can't I let what he has done go? Why can't I just truly forgive and forget everything that has happened in the past? I want to so badly. And what kills me the most is dad knows that I don't trust him, and he knows that everything he does, I have to look at logically instead of with trust. I see it in his eyes that it kills him that I try so hard to trust him, and can't, and he knows there's a damn good reason for it. He knows it will never change, because in all honesty, who can get past something like watching their father battle a crack addiction? Who?! Definitely not me.
Anyways, as you all know my dad has been staying with me for a week now and it's been great. We've been applying for jobs and fixing his resume, we've been watching movies and cooking together; it's been great. Today he got a call from a friend 20 minutes from my hometown and said he has work for him to do tomorrow where he will be making $10 an hour. He needs the money and definitely needs the work, so of course he took this guy up on his offer.
He told me about it and I said that I don't like the mind set he's in when he's in my hometown, and I don't like that he's going to be that close to it. He looked at me, smiled and said, "Don't sugar coat it baby." I looked away and tried to act like I was happy he had work, but I just couldn't do it. It's temporary work that will pay his bills for another month, and I should feel happy for him, and it's not like he won't be back here where I live next week. I don't know why this stressed me out so much, I just can't get it out of my head that he will relapse. I can't get it out of my head that he will end up disappearing and never come back.
I helped him pack his stuff, and got all of his paperwork together so he could study for a test he has coming up soon. I helped him get everything in his car, and gave him a big bear hug and he said "I'll see you on Sunday for father's day." I nodded and watched him get in the car and drive off.
Why can't I just trust him and let him do his own thing without feeling this painful hand on my heart threatening to rip it out of my chest? Why can't I let what he has done go? Why can't I just truly forgive and forget everything that has happened in the past? I want to so badly. And what kills me the most is dad knows that I don't trust him, and he knows that everything he does, I have to look at logically instead of with trust. I see it in his eyes that it kills him that I try so hard to trust him, and can't, and he knows there's a damn good reason for it. He knows it will never change, because in all honesty, who can get past something like watching their father battle a crack addiction? Who?! Definitely not me.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Dad's here!
Well, I finally got my dad to come and stay with me. It took a really long time, and a lot of coaxing, but he finally made it. I'm so glad he's out of my home town. I'm so glad he is away from all of his worst memories. I feel so much better about this. I don't have to worry about him as much here. Hell, I don't really have to worry about him at all.
I could tell dad was wanting crack really badly. When he thinks about it, he gets really quiet and really aloof. Thank God my mother in law's boyfriend is a recovering crack addict who has been sober for 10 years plus. He is my dad's new mentor, and what is weird is that this guy is kind of psychic. He feels what other people are feeling and can talk to them about it. He knew something about me that I haven't told anyone. This guy was a blessing from God. He calls my dad daily and makes him feel better. It's crazy how fate can bring people together. This man came into my dad's life at the perfect time, and is going to be in his life from now on.
He told me that dad has been wanting crack badly, and I knew that. He still hasn't relapsed but thinks about it daily. I also knew that. Being an addict never goes away. You think about whatever you're addicted to every single day. You crave it every single day. You fight it every single day. Once an addict, always an addict no matter how long you remain sober.
I could tell dad was wanting crack really badly. When he thinks about it, he gets really quiet and really aloof. Thank God my mother in law's boyfriend is a recovering crack addict who has been sober for 10 years plus. He is my dad's new mentor, and what is weird is that this guy is kind of psychic. He feels what other people are feeling and can talk to them about it. He knew something about me that I haven't told anyone. This guy was a blessing from God. He calls my dad daily and makes him feel better. It's crazy how fate can bring people together. This man came into my dad's life at the perfect time, and is going to be in his life from now on.
He told me that dad has been wanting crack badly, and I knew that. He still hasn't relapsed but thinks about it daily. I also knew that. Being an addict never goes away. You think about whatever you're addicted to every single day. You crave it every single day. You fight it every single day. Once an addict, always an addict no matter how long you remain sober.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The worst beach trip ever.
Well, I haven't updated in a while because I've been at the beach, and I had no alone time to blog. We went to Ft. Walton Beach and stayed in a condominium there.
I am not exaggerating when I say this was the worst beach trip ever. It started off with us getting there and it being in an upstairs room. My husband's mom is on oxygen 24-7 and cannot get up and down stairs in the heat. We asked for a downstairs bedroom but they had no 2 bedroom 2 baths vacant downstairs. I felt horrible because I was the one that made all of the reservations and everything. So as soon as we got there the trip wasn't right.
The next day I was finally feeling better about the trip. I made strawberry daiquiris, saw some awesome friends from Arkansas, and had a great cook out. I only thought about how I had messed up a few times that day. Our friends from Arkansas left and not even an hour later all hell broke loose.
My husband and his brother got into a huge fight (not a fist fight.) They were both drunk from doing shots a tequila and both had no tolerance for anything at that point. My brother in law told me to shut up in a funny way, and my husband got really offended even though my brother in law was kidding and it didn't bother me in the least bit. I went over to my husband trying to tell him that it didn't bother me in the least bit, and he snapped at me. I screamed in his face that he was being a dumb ass and needed to stop drinking, and he grabbed my face. He didn't hurt me, and didn't put any pressure, but you don't do that period, especially when there are four men in the room and one of them is your father... My father got up, pulled my husband away from me and the biggest brawl of all started. My husband pushed my dad up against a wall, then dad got him in a headlock trying to make him pass out because he was belligerent.
My brother in law finally got them apart while I was rocking myself in a corner the entire time. If you don't know me, then you don't know that I've been in an abusive relationship before and my husband knew the first time he touches me, I'm gone. Well, my husband was crying and screaming and asking what happened because he didn't remember any of it. He didn't remember anything but him and his brother arguing. I told him he got physical with me and he kept saying "I'm no better than that other faggot that did that to you. I don't deserve to live! What did I do?!" He went to the beach and him and his brother had a long talk. Me and my dad went to the beach and walked along it talking the whole time. He said, "you know he wasn't going to hurt you right?", and I said "yes I do, but him putting his hands on me like that period was not right." Dad said, "and he knows that." I told dad I didn't know what I was going to do, and he said he would support me no matter what.
We got back to the condo, and my husband was still not there. My basically sister in law was there and I asked if I could sleep with her that night because she was mad at my husband's brother too, and didn't feel like being in the same room as him. We had a long talk and she basically told me the same thing, "he wasn't going to hurt you I think he just wanted to push you away so he wouldn't hurt you, but in doing so he grabbed your face." I knew that, and I knew he wasn't going to hurt me because he didn't put any pressure on my face whatsoever.
My husband finally came in and sat down with me. He said he's done drinking because he literally didn't remember anything that happened, and he never wants to be in that situation again. I told him my side of the story, and he started crying. He couldn't believe any of that happened.
The next day I got up way before he did because he was so hung over, and talked to his mom about everything that happened. She asked if I could ever forgive him, and I said yes. She said "I'm glad you love him, because he sure does love you." My husband came down the stairs and was so bruised up. His hand was swollen up, his toe was purple, his mouth was busted up, and he looked like hell. He laid down in my lap and I told him, "That was your get out of jail free card simply because you didn't hurt me, and I knew deep down you weren't going to hurt me. If it ever happens again I will be out of your life." He started crying, and I did too. He said, "I wish I could remember everything but I don't, and I'm so sorry. I promise I am never drinking again and never doing that again." I simply said, "I know you won't."
Please don't let this make you think little of my husband, he is a very nice guy who treats me very good. He loves me with all of his heart, and has never laid a hand on me in the 6 years we've been together, and he's not going to start now. And trust me, I am not one of those people who makes excuses for other people. I've been down that road before, and will never go down that road again.
This whole ordeal definitely put into detail how much I mean to my father though, and that he would do anything for me even if he thinks that I am in the slightest bit of danger. Just another thing to put on the list of why my dad is still my superhero even after everything he has put me through.
I am not exaggerating when I say this was the worst beach trip ever. It started off with us getting there and it being in an upstairs room. My husband's mom is on oxygen 24-7 and cannot get up and down stairs in the heat. We asked for a downstairs bedroom but they had no 2 bedroom 2 baths vacant downstairs. I felt horrible because I was the one that made all of the reservations and everything. So as soon as we got there the trip wasn't right.
The next day I was finally feeling better about the trip. I made strawberry daiquiris, saw some awesome friends from Arkansas, and had a great cook out. I only thought about how I had messed up a few times that day. Our friends from Arkansas left and not even an hour later all hell broke loose.
My husband and his brother got into a huge fight (not a fist fight.) They were both drunk from doing shots a tequila and both had no tolerance for anything at that point. My brother in law told me to shut up in a funny way, and my husband got really offended even though my brother in law was kidding and it didn't bother me in the least bit. I went over to my husband trying to tell him that it didn't bother me in the least bit, and he snapped at me. I screamed in his face that he was being a dumb ass and needed to stop drinking, and he grabbed my face. He didn't hurt me, and didn't put any pressure, but you don't do that period, especially when there are four men in the room and one of them is your father... My father got up, pulled my husband away from me and the biggest brawl of all started. My husband pushed my dad up against a wall, then dad got him in a headlock trying to make him pass out because he was belligerent.
My brother in law finally got them apart while I was rocking myself in a corner the entire time. If you don't know me, then you don't know that I've been in an abusive relationship before and my husband knew the first time he touches me, I'm gone. Well, my husband was crying and screaming and asking what happened because he didn't remember any of it. He didn't remember anything but him and his brother arguing. I told him he got physical with me and he kept saying "I'm no better than that other faggot that did that to you. I don't deserve to live! What did I do?!" He went to the beach and him and his brother had a long talk. Me and my dad went to the beach and walked along it talking the whole time. He said, "you know he wasn't going to hurt you right?", and I said "yes I do, but him putting his hands on me like that period was not right." Dad said, "and he knows that." I told dad I didn't know what I was going to do, and he said he would support me no matter what.
We got back to the condo, and my husband was still not there. My basically sister in law was there and I asked if I could sleep with her that night because she was mad at my husband's brother too, and didn't feel like being in the same room as him. We had a long talk and she basically told me the same thing, "he wasn't going to hurt you I think he just wanted to push you away so he wouldn't hurt you, but in doing so he grabbed your face." I knew that, and I knew he wasn't going to hurt me because he didn't put any pressure on my face whatsoever.
My husband finally came in and sat down with me. He said he's done drinking because he literally didn't remember anything that happened, and he never wants to be in that situation again. I told him my side of the story, and he started crying. He couldn't believe any of that happened.
The next day I got up way before he did because he was so hung over, and talked to his mom about everything that happened. She asked if I could ever forgive him, and I said yes. She said "I'm glad you love him, because he sure does love you." My husband came down the stairs and was so bruised up. His hand was swollen up, his toe was purple, his mouth was busted up, and he looked like hell. He laid down in my lap and I told him, "That was your get out of jail free card simply because you didn't hurt me, and I knew deep down you weren't going to hurt me. If it ever happens again I will be out of your life." He started crying, and I did too. He said, "I wish I could remember everything but I don't, and I'm so sorry. I promise I am never drinking again and never doing that again." I simply said, "I know you won't."
Please don't let this make you think little of my husband, he is a very nice guy who treats me very good. He loves me with all of his heart, and has never laid a hand on me in the 6 years we've been together, and he's not going to start now. And trust me, I am not one of those people who makes excuses for other people. I've been down that road before, and will never go down that road again.
This whole ordeal definitely put into detail how much I mean to my father though, and that he would do anything for me even if he thinks that I am in the slightest bit of danger. Just another thing to put on the list of why my dad is still my superhero even after everything he has put me through.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Selfish
I don't know why I try to make dad rethink going back to Texas, if I learned that I had to move back to Arkansas, I would go back in a heartbeat and not think twice about it, hell I would be jumping for joy. I would definitely miss my friends and family here, but I loved my life in Arkansas, and I was so far away from all of my problems there that I rarely thought about them.
Sometimes I'm so selfish without meaning to be. I have to look at this from my father's point of view. My dad's miserable in my hometown, he hates getting constantly reminded of his screw ups, he hates getting constantly reminded of his ex wife who he claims to be in love with still even though he was in a relationship before he was even divorced, and he hates having to rely on other people for money, food, and shelter. Just like me in Arkansas, dad had a life in Texas, and he was happy there. It is far enough away from his problems that he rarely thought about them.
I love having my father at my every beckoning call, and I love being able to physically see him, but I have to think about what is best for him, and what is best for him is him going back to Texas and starting a new life. I will definitely miss my father, and I will miss being able to see him, but I have decided that if he gets this job in Texas, I will shed a tear or two watching him drive away out of my life again, but I will do it with a smile on my face and try to be the proudest daughter a daughter can be.
Sometimes I'm so selfish without meaning to be. I have to look at this from my father's point of view. My dad's miserable in my hometown, he hates getting constantly reminded of his screw ups, he hates getting constantly reminded of his ex wife who he claims to be in love with still even though he was in a relationship before he was even divorced, and he hates having to rely on other people for money, food, and shelter. Just like me in Arkansas, dad had a life in Texas, and he was happy there. It is far enough away from his problems that he rarely thought about them.
I love having my father at my every beckoning call, and I love being able to physically see him, but I have to think about what is best for him, and what is best for him is him going back to Texas and starting a new life. I will definitely miss my father, and I will miss being able to see him, but I have decided that if he gets this job in Texas, I will shed a tear or two watching him drive away out of my life again, but I will do it with a smile on my face and try to be the proudest daughter a daughter can be.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wait! I take it all back!
My dad's got job interviews in Texas and it's looking really good. It's really hurting my feelings that he wants to live that far away again. I understand that he doesn't want to be in my home town, but why Texas?! That's at least 15 hours away. I know I've been complaining about him being back, but in all honesty I'm going to miss him if he gets this job in Texas. It's been nice to be able to see him whenever I feel like going down to my home town.
Dad didn't relapse the other day. I don't really know where he disappeared to, but I know he didn't relapse. I found out when my dad got back from Texas that he was diagnosed with PTSD which has really messed with him. I'd be surprised if he DIDN'T have PTSD. When he was in Afghanistan he lost a close friend and where he was, got shot at daily. If you have netflix, look up the movie called Restrepo. This is where my dad was, it was horrible living conditions and horrible battles between them and the Afghans. No wonder dad can't sleep.
I wish my dad could get a job up here where I live now. That way he could be close to me and still be away from drugs. I'm not saying that Texas wouldn't be good for him, but I want to be selfish for a little while. I want my daddy here. I take back everything I said about him ruining my life by coming back to my home town. I just want my dad to be close to me at my every beckoning call. I want to be able to see my dad without having to travel 15 + hours. I want him physically in my life, not technologically in my life. Skype is amazing, but there's nothing like my dad physically holding me in his arms, there's nothing like being able to say "hey let's hang out this weekend." I haven't been able to do that in years, and it's felt really really good. Now that dad has a cell phone I don't worry about him as much because he actually calls me and I call him. He hasn't not answered once since he got it. So as I said before, I take it all back! I just want my dad near me. ::Holds head in hands::
Dad didn't relapse the other day. I don't really know where he disappeared to, but I know he didn't relapse. I found out when my dad got back from Texas that he was diagnosed with PTSD which has really messed with him. I'd be surprised if he DIDN'T have PTSD. When he was in Afghanistan he lost a close friend and where he was, got shot at daily. If you have netflix, look up the movie called Restrepo. This is where my dad was, it was horrible living conditions and horrible battles between them and the Afghans. No wonder dad can't sleep.
I wish my dad could get a job up here where I live now. That way he could be close to me and still be away from drugs. I'm not saying that Texas wouldn't be good for him, but I want to be selfish for a little while. I want my daddy here. I take back everything I said about him ruining my life by coming back to my home town. I just want my dad to be close to me at my every beckoning call. I want to be able to see my dad without having to travel 15 + hours. I want him physically in my life, not technologically in my life. Skype is amazing, but there's nothing like my dad physically holding me in his arms, there's nothing like being able to say "hey let's hang out this weekend." I haven't been able to do that in years, and it's felt really really good. Now that dad has a cell phone I don't worry about him as much because he actually calls me and I call him. He hasn't not answered once since he got it. So as I said before, I take it all back! I just want my dad near me. ::Holds head in hands::
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Dad showed up today
Well I got a call from my dad's friend and she said that he showed up at my Grandma's house late last night. My Grandma got up and saw him sleeping in his car and got him to come inside.
I really hope my dad hasn't burned any bridges with his friends or mom. This particular friend has given him a place to stay, given him classes to get a good job, and has a job lined up for him once he finishes the classes. Grandma has paid his bills for him, has given him money to pay for his classes, has fed him, and has clothed him.
Yesterday my husband told me that if my dad had relapsed the deal is off for him staying here. I don't know if dad did relapse or not. I don't know if I want to know. I always assume he has relapsed when he goes missing for at least 24 hours, but I was wrong about that last time so who knows.
My husband asked me yesterday how my dad could be so selfish and I shed a tear. I then told him he's not in the right frame of mind. After that my dad's friend called me and asked me if I knew anywhere dad could be and I told her to look a few places. He wasn't there. After I got off the phone with her I started crying. The hubs came in and hugged me which made me lose it even more. I then spent hours crying after that.
We finally went to bed and had a heart to heart. One thing that really made me cry was him saying "I wish your dad would get hit by a truck so he could feel an ounce of pain that he makes you feel. I'm so tired of seeing him hurt you, and I just want to kill him sometimes. I don't understand how someone can hurt you over and over again. You're such a forgiving and good person." I replied with "I wish I wasn't because it leaves you out in the open to get hurt over and over again."
I called my brother and told him he finally showed up at Grandma's because we were about to call the cops and send out a missing persons report. He said "fuck him I'm not letting him make me feel bad anymore for not spending enough time with him." Yesterday he also said "Dad will call you first because he loves you more than me." I said "no he doesn't! He loves you just as much as me." He said "you know that's not true." What are you supposed to say to that?! Now that I think about it I think dad does love me more. At least he talks to me more. I hate that. He should love my brother the same as me, but I don't think he does. I really hope my brother isn't jealous of mine and dad's relationship because I love my brother more than life.
UGH! THERE ARE SO MANY FUCKING PROBLEMS THAT I DON'T FEEL LIKE DEALING WITH RIGHT NOW! FUCK THIS!
I really hope my dad hasn't burned any bridges with his friends or mom. This particular friend has given him a place to stay, given him classes to get a good job, and has a job lined up for him once he finishes the classes. Grandma has paid his bills for him, has given him money to pay for his classes, has fed him, and has clothed him.
Yesterday my husband told me that if my dad had relapsed the deal is off for him staying here. I don't know if dad did relapse or not. I don't know if I want to know. I always assume he has relapsed when he goes missing for at least 24 hours, but I was wrong about that last time so who knows.
My husband asked me yesterday how my dad could be so selfish and I shed a tear. I then told him he's not in the right frame of mind. After that my dad's friend called me and asked me if I knew anywhere dad could be and I told her to look a few places. He wasn't there. After I got off the phone with her I started crying. The hubs came in and hugged me which made me lose it even more. I then spent hours crying after that.
We finally went to bed and had a heart to heart. One thing that really made me cry was him saying "I wish your dad would get hit by a truck so he could feel an ounce of pain that he makes you feel. I'm so tired of seeing him hurt you, and I just want to kill him sometimes. I don't understand how someone can hurt you over and over again. You're such a forgiving and good person." I replied with "I wish I wasn't because it leaves you out in the open to get hurt over and over again."
I called my brother and told him he finally showed up at Grandma's because we were about to call the cops and send out a missing persons report. He said "fuck him I'm not letting him make me feel bad anymore for not spending enough time with him." Yesterday he also said "Dad will call you first because he loves you more than me." I said "no he doesn't! He loves you just as much as me." He said "you know that's not true." What are you supposed to say to that?! Now that I think about it I think dad does love me more. At least he talks to me more. I hate that. He should love my brother the same as me, but I don't think he does. I really hope my brother isn't jealous of mine and dad's relationship because I love my brother more than life.
UGH! THERE ARE SO MANY FUCKING PROBLEMS THAT I DON'T FEEL LIKE DEALING WITH RIGHT NOW! FUCK THIS!
Monday, May 23, 2011
Welp I almost thought my dad could do it...
I knew this would happen. My dad's been in my home town for about a week and some change. We actually had a great weekend together, we hung out every day this past weekend. Saturday I was kind of worried about him because he didn't call me when he was supposed to, and had me, Grandma, and his friends worrying about him but he finally called me and we hung out. Saturday night he spent the night over at my father in law's house with me and my husband. Sunday we went and ate with Grandma then went to the mall, then went to look at puppies at a friends house. We ate dinner and he left shortly after I left to go back to where I live now.
He was supposed to go straight to his friend's house and spend the night. I just got a call from her and she said he never showed up. I'm not saying that I didn't expect this to happen cause hell, it basically happened 7 months ago on my birthday. I just can't help but think the worst like he relapsed and is in a ditch dead somewhere because of an overdose.
I'm really surprised because I've only shed one single tear since I started writing this and that was only because my husband interrupted me and asked "Does your dad not think of anyone but himself?".
I started to cry and one single tear came down. Then I thought about it and stated "In my home town my dad is not in the right frame of mind. He now thinks of mom everywhere he goes in that town and gets depressed. Dad thinks of how he's screwed up so much in the past and is reminded of everyone he hurt. He gets into that slump and yes, get's very selfish."
Maybe I'm just tired of crying, I had a great coffee date with my two good friends Saturday and shed many tears talking about all of this stuff. I also had a good hour cry yesterday when I told my mother in law how much I appreciated the way they accepted my father and my family. I told them I was eternally grateful for everything they've done for me and him.
Never mind, tears are welling up as I type. I'm very hurt right now this blog entry has helped me a little bit, but if it seems out of order and doesn't make sense it's probably because I'm tired of being hurt and am hurting so much I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
I kind of wish dad was in Texas still. By coming here he's fucked up my life. I was beginning to feel happy in the place I live. Now I get calls from people wondering if I've heard from him because he was supposed to be with them. When he was in Texas I was able to get into contact with him every day, and he wasn't my problem. Now he's a huge problem.
I really wish I could just say fuck him, he's not worth the time of day. I wish it was that easy, but it's not. I wish I was a t total bitch and didn't care about anyone. I wish I had the coldest heart of anyone in the entire world. I wish I could never get hurt by anyone. I wish my heart was in a steel box with no key instead of out in the open there for everyone to rip, stomp on, or crush over and over again. I hate this shit. I hate being able to feel.
He was supposed to go straight to his friend's house and spend the night. I just got a call from her and she said he never showed up. I'm not saying that I didn't expect this to happen cause hell, it basically happened 7 months ago on my birthday. I just can't help but think the worst like he relapsed and is in a ditch dead somewhere because of an overdose.
I'm really surprised because I've only shed one single tear since I started writing this and that was only because my husband interrupted me and asked "Does your dad not think of anyone but himself?".
I started to cry and one single tear came down. Then I thought about it and stated "In my home town my dad is not in the right frame of mind. He now thinks of mom everywhere he goes in that town and gets depressed. Dad thinks of how he's screwed up so much in the past and is reminded of everyone he hurt. He gets into that slump and yes, get's very selfish."
Maybe I'm just tired of crying, I had a great coffee date with my two good friends Saturday and shed many tears talking about all of this stuff. I also had a good hour cry yesterday when I told my mother in law how much I appreciated the way they accepted my father and my family. I told them I was eternally grateful for everything they've done for me and him.
Never mind, tears are welling up as I type. I'm very hurt right now this blog entry has helped me a little bit, but if it seems out of order and doesn't make sense it's probably because I'm tired of being hurt and am hurting so much I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
I kind of wish dad was in Texas still. By coming here he's fucked up my life. I was beginning to feel happy in the place I live. Now I get calls from people wondering if I've heard from him because he was supposed to be with them. When he was in Texas I was able to get into contact with him every day, and he wasn't my problem. Now he's a huge problem.
I really wish I could just say fuck him, he's not worth the time of day. I wish it was that easy, but it's not. I wish I was a t total bitch and didn't care about anyone. I wish I had the coldest heart of anyone in the entire world. I wish I could never get hurt by anyone. I wish my heart was in a steel box with no key instead of out in the open there for everyone to rip, stomp on, or crush over and over again. I hate this shit. I hate being able to feel.
Friday, May 13, 2011
"Your brother's physically ill."
Well, my dad's coming to my hometown for good or something like that. He's trying to get a job, and it will be easier for him to get a Georgia license more than a Texas license. I've kind of been begging him to stay with me because I really do not want him in the town where he has connections to drugs. He is never in the right frame of mind when he's there, kind of like I'm not.
I've been keeping my mom and brother up to date on where dad is on his journey from Texas to Georgia, and when I was on the phone with my mom she said my brother is physically ill and has been since he found out dad was moving back. This brought tears to my eyes. I realized that my brother does feel very strongly about everything with dad, he just deals with it completely different, but he's hurt just as much as I am. I kind of wanted to believe that he was oblivious to everything, or didn't care. I wanted to believe that he was too young to remember or know everything that went on when dad started with drugs, but he wasn't, and he's not.
It's kind of like God has been intervening with dad making it to Georgia. He was supposed to be in my hometown Tuesday, but the people didn't inspect his apartment til late that day so he didn't leave til Wednesday. Wednesday he got caught in a hail storm not even an hour away from where he lived in Texas and also got a nail in his tire. He had to get a room and stay there over night. Thursday he left that place and probably got rerouted because of all the flooding that happened, and today there have been no problems that i know of so he should be in my hometown this afternoon. My brother learned about all of this stuff, looked at my mom and said "divine intervention?"
I don't know if I can handle this. As my friend said, "You can't be your dad's babysitter." I can't and I know that, but I can at least get him an hour and a half away from where he doesn't need to be. There's a hospital here, and so many little doctor's offices he could work in. My greatest hope and wish for my father is for him to be doing the job he loves and to be healthy physically and mentally. I want to see him smile and laugh again. I want to see him feel like he's worth something again. My dad has screwed up in the past but he doesn't deserve to be homeless, jobless, and depressed. In fact it scares me when he's like this because him feeling like this makes him look for something to mask it, and we all know what that is.
It's so scarey how I actually understand why he goes looking for things to make him feel better, because they do make you feel better. No they don't fix the problem, and no you don't feel good from them forever, but for a little while you forget your pain. You forget why you went looking for that little thing that makes you feel on top of the world. You just sit back go to a place made up in your head that's almost like heaven, close yout eyes, and smile...
I've been keeping my mom and brother up to date on where dad is on his journey from Texas to Georgia, and when I was on the phone with my mom she said my brother is physically ill and has been since he found out dad was moving back. This brought tears to my eyes. I realized that my brother does feel very strongly about everything with dad, he just deals with it completely different, but he's hurt just as much as I am. I kind of wanted to believe that he was oblivious to everything, or didn't care. I wanted to believe that he was too young to remember or know everything that went on when dad started with drugs, but he wasn't, and he's not.
It's kind of like God has been intervening with dad making it to Georgia. He was supposed to be in my hometown Tuesday, but the people didn't inspect his apartment til late that day so he didn't leave til Wednesday. Wednesday he got caught in a hail storm not even an hour away from where he lived in Texas and also got a nail in his tire. He had to get a room and stay there over night. Thursday he left that place and probably got rerouted because of all the flooding that happened, and today there have been no problems that i know of so he should be in my hometown this afternoon. My brother learned about all of this stuff, looked at my mom and said "divine intervention?"
I don't know if I can handle this. As my friend said, "You can't be your dad's babysitter." I can't and I know that, but I can at least get him an hour and a half away from where he doesn't need to be. There's a hospital here, and so many little doctor's offices he could work in. My greatest hope and wish for my father is for him to be doing the job he loves and to be healthy physically and mentally. I want to see him smile and laugh again. I want to see him feel like he's worth something again. My dad has screwed up in the past but he doesn't deserve to be homeless, jobless, and depressed. In fact it scares me when he's like this because him feeling like this makes him look for something to mask it, and we all know what that is.
It's so scarey how I actually understand why he goes looking for things to make him feel better, because they do make you feel better. No they don't fix the problem, and no you don't feel good from them forever, but for a little while you forget your pain. You forget why you went looking for that little thing that makes you feel on top of the world. You just sit back go to a place made up in your head that's almost like heaven, close yout eyes, and smile...
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Mother's day
This past Sunday was mother's day and I was just thinking about everything my mother did for me through the years. My mother is such a strong woman. She had to raise my brother and me alone through my teenage years and my brother's teenage years.
I think I honestly took her for granted. I expected her to be there for me at every beckoning call. I expected her to give me everything I wanted and needed. I didn't thank her for every meal she put on the table for me. I didn't thank her for letting me crawl into her lap even at 20 years old to cry and feel loved. I didn't thank her for never showing me her weak points when dad was away. My mom was forced to be a single parent and did a fantastic job.
I look at so many of my friends and family and see that they have no respect for their mothers. Some of them have good reasons to not respect their moms, but others have really taken them for granted like I did. The ones who have a very good reason to not respect their mom make me even worse for taking my saint of a mother for granted. My "old best friend" was so rude to his mom. I could not believe he treated his mom the way he did. He would say things to his mother that I would have gotten slapped into next week for saying.
Sometimes I think about writing my mom a long 50 page letter thanking her for everything she's done and telling her I'm truly sorry for even once acting like a spoiled brat and expecting everything from her. I don't think this would be enough. I don't think buying my mother the entire universe would be enough. So, for mother's day I got her a hibiscus plant that she could plant in her new back yard and think of me every time she sees it. Seems silly now.
I think I honestly took her for granted. I expected her to be there for me at every beckoning call. I expected her to give me everything I wanted and needed. I didn't thank her for every meal she put on the table for me. I didn't thank her for letting me crawl into her lap even at 20 years old to cry and feel loved. I didn't thank her for never showing me her weak points when dad was away. My mom was forced to be a single parent and did a fantastic job.
I look at so many of my friends and family and see that they have no respect for their mothers. Some of them have good reasons to not respect their moms, but others have really taken them for granted like I did. The ones who have a very good reason to not respect their mom make me even worse for taking my saint of a mother for granted. My "old best friend" was so rude to his mom. I could not believe he treated his mom the way he did. He would say things to his mother that I would have gotten slapped into next week for saying.
Sometimes I think about writing my mom a long 50 page letter thanking her for everything she's done and telling her I'm truly sorry for even once acting like a spoiled brat and expecting everything from her. I don't think this would be enough. I don't think buying my mother the entire universe would be enough. So, for mother's day I got her a hibiscus plant that she could plant in her new back yard and think of me every time she sees it. Seems silly now.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
"I want your husband to know the man I was before."
I wish I had a recorder running when my dad called me just a few minutes ago. I'm still wiping off tears. I don't know what got into him, but he had talked to mom for a good hour and a half apparently and apologized for everything he did to her, all the hell he put her through, and for him breaking her apart.
He called me right after and said "I told your mother I am truly sorry, and I want you to know I am working on getting back to the daddy you had when I was still just a nurse. I don't know what happened in P.A. school, but I changed, and I haven't been the same since. I want your husband to know the man I was before, and I'm going to show him. " He called me on skype so of course I was holding back the tears so he couldn't see them. "I love you baby girl and you let me know you love me every day by calling me. I just want to let you know I'm working on myself and getting back to the place I was before." We hung up and I automatically bursted into tears. Thank God my husbands asleep because he'd probably think I was dying. This is something I haven't heard before, this isn't one of those "I'll get better I promise" things, this is a "I'm ready to truly be myself again, and I'm going to work on it starting now" things.
It's almost like my dad's been reading my blog or something. He knows that one of the worst things I have to deal with is my husband not knowing him and not respecting him because of what he's done. I don't know, my mother and I did talk about how my husband and his family don't truly know my father not even a week ago so she could have mentioned it to him.
No one knows how good it would be to have my dad back. I haven't seen or talked to MY dad in about 6 years.
He called me right after and said "I told your mother I am truly sorry, and I want you to know I am working on getting back to the daddy you had when I was still just a nurse. I don't know what happened in P.A. school, but I changed, and I haven't been the same since. I want your husband to know the man I was before, and I'm going to show him. " He called me on skype so of course I was holding back the tears so he couldn't see them. "I love you baby girl and you let me know you love me every day by calling me. I just want to let you know I'm working on myself and getting back to the place I was before." We hung up and I automatically bursted into tears. Thank God my husbands asleep because he'd probably think I was dying. This is something I haven't heard before, this isn't one of those "I'll get better I promise" things, this is a "I'm ready to truly be myself again, and I'm going to work on it starting now" things.
It's almost like my dad's been reading my blog or something. He knows that one of the worst things I have to deal with is my husband not knowing him and not respecting him because of what he's done. I don't know, my mother and I did talk about how my husband and his family don't truly know my father not even a week ago so she could have mentioned it to him.
No one knows how good it would be to have my dad back. I haven't seen or talked to MY dad in about 6 years.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
My old best friend
I was thinking a lot about my old best friend today and how badly I want to see and talk to him again. I kind of stopped talking to him around the time my dad started crack. He probably thinks it's because I started dating my husband and was stuck up his butt.
I'm going to give a little bit of back story. This guy was my best friend for years probably since we were in 6th grade. I use to be a huge Christian, and he finally came out of the closet to me probably in 8th or 9th grade. I kept reciting scripture from the bible where it says being gay is wrong. I tried to make him straight...doesn't that sound horrible?! I am so not like that now. Shit I could even be bi man. Girls are beautiful creatures.
Once I started dating my now husband was when dad started his drug experimenting. I don't know if my friend didn't like my husband, or if he was jealous of him. My friend and I did spend a lot of time together, and it was like we were joined at the hip, so there's no telling. All of a sudden my friend was being mean to me, and rude to my husband, so my husband was rude back. Let me get something straight, my husband doesn't have a problem with anyone until they give him a reason to have a problem with them. He doesn't care if you're gay, straight, black, white, a cross dresser, or whatever. If you're rude to him he's going to be rude back. My friend started getting rude to both of us and I have no idea why. I think that my friend thought my husband didn't like him because he was gay which was so far from the truth it's not even funny he didn't like him because he was being a dick to me and him.
I did start pushing my friend away just as I pushed everyone away because of my dad. I'm pretty sure they all thought is was because of my husband, but it wasn't. I didn't want to have to tell all of them exactly what was going on in my life, hell it took a lot for me to start this blog and tell one single best friend that I was starting it. Back then I found it easier to not talk to anyone. My husband knew everything because he was the only one I could open up to.
The other night I was sitting in the bathtub playing a scenario in my head. I talk to myself a lot and act like the person I need to talk to is there. I pretended we were at a table talking and this is what I said... "I want to be friends like we were before. I'm so sorry for pushing you away, but you are not innocent in this either." At this point I started crying. "I miss you so much and I think about what we used to have and how I just kind of threw it away. I also know that you were going through a hard time and left you high and dry and I'm so sorry for that."
Then I thought about telling him about this blog. I don't know if he would care. I don't even know this guy anymore. We're friends on facebook but I haven't actually seen him since we graduated 3 years ago... and the last time I talked to him he wasn't exactly the nicest guy in the world. I don't think he would want to fix things. I'm pretty sure he's moved on with his life and I'm just an old friend who he's lost contact with. I miss him so much though. I wish he would respond to me on facebook and tell me that he wants to get together too, but he hasn't and probably won't. I just have to deal with that. I guess sometimes you just have to let people go.
I'm going to give a little bit of back story. This guy was my best friend for years probably since we were in 6th grade. I use to be a huge Christian, and he finally came out of the closet to me probably in 8th or 9th grade. I kept reciting scripture from the bible where it says being gay is wrong. I tried to make him straight...doesn't that sound horrible?! I am so not like that now. Shit I could even be bi man. Girls are beautiful creatures.
Once I started dating my now husband was when dad started his drug experimenting. I don't know if my friend didn't like my husband, or if he was jealous of him. My friend and I did spend a lot of time together, and it was like we were joined at the hip, so there's no telling. All of a sudden my friend was being mean to me, and rude to my husband, so my husband was rude back. Let me get something straight, my husband doesn't have a problem with anyone until they give him a reason to have a problem with them. He doesn't care if you're gay, straight, black, white, a cross dresser, or whatever. If you're rude to him he's going to be rude back. My friend started getting rude to both of us and I have no idea why. I think that my friend thought my husband didn't like him because he was gay which was so far from the truth it's not even funny he didn't like him because he was being a dick to me and him.
I did start pushing my friend away just as I pushed everyone away because of my dad. I'm pretty sure they all thought is was because of my husband, but it wasn't. I didn't want to have to tell all of them exactly what was going on in my life, hell it took a lot for me to start this blog and tell one single best friend that I was starting it. Back then I found it easier to not talk to anyone. My husband knew everything because he was the only one I could open up to.
The other night I was sitting in the bathtub playing a scenario in my head. I talk to myself a lot and act like the person I need to talk to is there. I pretended we were at a table talking and this is what I said... "I want to be friends like we were before. I'm so sorry for pushing you away, but you are not innocent in this either." At this point I started crying. "I miss you so much and I think about what we used to have and how I just kind of threw it away. I also know that you were going through a hard time and left you high and dry and I'm so sorry for that."
Then I thought about telling him about this blog. I don't know if he would care. I don't even know this guy anymore. We're friends on facebook but I haven't actually seen him since we graduated 3 years ago... and the last time I talked to him he wasn't exactly the nicest guy in the world. I don't think he would want to fix things. I'm pretty sure he's moved on with his life and I'm just an old friend who he's lost contact with. I miss him so much though. I wish he would respond to me on facebook and tell me that he wants to get together too, but he hasn't and probably won't. I just have to deal with that. I guess sometimes you just have to let people go.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Religion
Yesterday was Easter Sunday. I didn't do anything. I didn't get up and go to a beautiful, heart warming, spirit filling sunrise service like I love to do on Easter Sunday. I didn't even go outside and read my bible or have my own little sermon. At first I felt wrong, like I was going to be shunned for not doing anything on Easter. Then I thought about it, I never go to church, unless my mom asks me to sing with her at the contemporary service at her church. What's the point in going on the big Sundays if you don't go any other Sunday?
I believe in God and Jesus, but I don't believe you have to go to church to prove that. I think God understands that church isn't for everyone, mostly because it's filled with judgmental snobs who have no right to judge you. The only time I feel right at church is if I'm singing on a stage worshiping. I don't really call myself a Christian anymore. I'm not. I don't live my life for Christ. I live my life for me and thank Christ for giving me a life to live. Is that wrong? A lot of people think so.
This post wasn't going to be about my dad, but this whole thought process kind of circles back to him. When my church back home found out about what my dad was addicted to, they kind of shunned our family for a little while. People would look at me like I was the devil, like I had done the drugs instead of my father, like I was going to end up just like him. I hated those people. Not everyone was like that, some people reached out to us and were as nice as could be by offering help and money, but I still can't believe people who called themselves Christians were being so judgmental. I thought God was the only one who could judge someone. At least, that's what Christian's taught me. They were being hypocrites. I hated that church for that reason.
For a while I prayed to God to give me the strength to show my face in that church and he did. He also got me through some very hard times. That was when i realized my problems weren't with God, they were with church and Christians.
I kind of feel like I should start my own religion. Be a good person, have a good heart, thank God for your life, and you're going to heaven... sounds freaking awesome to me!
I believe in God and Jesus, but I don't believe you have to go to church to prove that. I think God understands that church isn't for everyone, mostly because it's filled with judgmental snobs who have no right to judge you. The only time I feel right at church is if I'm singing on a stage worshiping. I don't really call myself a Christian anymore. I'm not. I don't live my life for Christ. I live my life for me and thank Christ for giving me a life to live. Is that wrong? A lot of people think so.
This post wasn't going to be about my dad, but this whole thought process kind of circles back to him. When my church back home found out about what my dad was addicted to, they kind of shunned our family for a little while. People would look at me like I was the devil, like I had done the drugs instead of my father, like I was going to end up just like him. I hated those people. Not everyone was like that, some people reached out to us and were as nice as could be by offering help and money, but I still can't believe people who called themselves Christians were being so judgmental. I thought God was the only one who could judge someone. At least, that's what Christian's taught me. They were being hypocrites. I hated that church for that reason.
For a while I prayed to God to give me the strength to show my face in that church and he did. He also got me through some very hard times. That was when i realized my problems weren't with God, they were with church and Christians.
I kind of feel like I should start my own religion. Be a good person, have a good heart, thank God for your life, and you're going to heaven... sounds freaking awesome to me!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The new year
This was originally written Tuesday January 7th, 2010.
Thank the good Lord Jesus that 2010 is over! It's not so much that a lot of bad things happened in 2010, but that the bad things that did happen were really bad things!
1) My husband got deployed.
2) Dad go deployed.
3) My husband's Granddaddy died.
4) Dad almost got shot.
5) Dad got in legal trouble because of some stupid bitch.
6)Mom and Dad got divorced.
7)Dad's living with a woman.
8) Mom found out about the other woman.
9) Parents are not friends anymore.
10)Having to move to Georgia.
Yeah it's amazing how much all of those things affected me. I guess it makes me stronger in the end, but I'll be damned if it still doesn't hurt.
#1) Made me feel so alone even though I went back to my hometown to stay with my mom and brother. I hated every minute of it. I was in a major depression and drank all the time. I think it would have been better for me to have stayed in Arkansas.
#2) Constantly had me worried because the place he was in was not safe.
#3) I was in the room when his grandfather passed. Even though the whole family was in there it was horrible. The look on his Granny's face when she said goodbye for the last time, seeing my husband's brother and dad cry for the first time, watching his Grandfather struggle for each final breath. I was even more upset that my husband couldn't be there. I remember going home and crawling in my mom's lap and crying my eyes out. The funeral was beautiful, he looked so peaceful at the viewing as well. I remember sitting under the tent and looking at the place my husband should have been standing with the rest of the barrers. It was rainy and cold so they tried to make the service quick. Afterward we went to the church that Granddaddy had so much to do with. I think that was the most painful part, being in a place where you could physically see things he built with his own hands. I kept expecting him to walk through the door. I remember looking over at Granny and seeing her surrounded by multiple people. I felt bad for her. If I were in her shoes I would want to be left alone. Those few day are so vivid to me.
#4) Dad (no matter how much pain he's caused) is my superhero. If he would have died, I probably would be in intense therapy. His almost getting shot really scared me.
#5) I worried constantly about dad getting kicked out of the Army because some lie this stupid bitch made up.
#6) I think we know how much this one affected me. I couldn't believe that my mom was calling it quits after 22 years of marriage, and making it through so much.
#7) Dad living with another woman really bugged me. He was already friends with her before the divorce, and I think he had an affair with her. I guess it doesn't matter now, but I just didn't see how he could move on as fast as he did. This pissed me off immensely, but it's not my place to say anything. He's a grown man...what can I say?
#8) I literally cried when mom found out about this. I knew how hurt she was because the divorce wasn't even final when he moved in with this lady. I could see the hurt in my mom's eyes, and could feel her heart breaking.
#9) My parents not being friends anymore is heartbreaking. They've known each other more than half of their lives, and dad just threw that away with some chick he's know a max of 4 years. Dumb ass.
#10) I had a life in Arkansas, I had friends, a great job, places I could go, and my own life. Having to just pick up and go back to Georgia where I'm so close to all my fears and bad memories was not on my to do list. It's not so bad seeing my family and friends often, but I hate not having a job, and going to my hometown a lot. I'm just not happy here.
Thank the good Lord Jesus that 2010 is over! It's not so much that a lot of bad things happened in 2010, but that the bad things that did happen were really bad things!
1) My husband got deployed.
2) Dad go deployed.
3) My husband's Granddaddy died.
4) Dad almost got shot.
5) Dad got in legal trouble because of some stupid bitch.
6)Mom and Dad got divorced.
7)Dad's living with a woman.
8) Mom found out about the other woman.
9) Parents are not friends anymore.
10)Having to move to Georgia.
Yeah it's amazing how much all of those things affected me. I guess it makes me stronger in the end, but I'll be damned if it still doesn't hurt.
#1) Made me feel so alone even though I went back to my hometown to stay with my mom and brother. I hated every minute of it. I was in a major depression and drank all the time. I think it would have been better for me to have stayed in Arkansas.
#2) Constantly had me worried because the place he was in was not safe.
#3) I was in the room when his grandfather passed. Even though the whole family was in there it was horrible. The look on his Granny's face when she said goodbye for the last time, seeing my husband's brother and dad cry for the first time, watching his Grandfather struggle for each final breath. I was even more upset that my husband couldn't be there. I remember going home and crawling in my mom's lap and crying my eyes out. The funeral was beautiful, he looked so peaceful at the viewing as well. I remember sitting under the tent and looking at the place my husband should have been standing with the rest of the barrers. It was rainy and cold so they tried to make the service quick. Afterward we went to the church that Granddaddy had so much to do with. I think that was the most painful part, being in a place where you could physically see things he built with his own hands. I kept expecting him to walk through the door. I remember looking over at Granny and seeing her surrounded by multiple people. I felt bad for her. If I were in her shoes I would want to be left alone. Those few day are so vivid to me.
#4) Dad (no matter how much pain he's caused) is my superhero. If he would have died, I probably would be in intense therapy. His almost getting shot really scared me.
#5) I worried constantly about dad getting kicked out of the Army because some lie this stupid bitch made up.
#6) I think we know how much this one affected me. I couldn't believe that my mom was calling it quits after 22 years of marriage, and making it through so much.
#7) Dad living with another woman really bugged me. He was already friends with her before the divorce, and I think he had an affair with her. I guess it doesn't matter now, but I just didn't see how he could move on as fast as he did. This pissed me off immensely, but it's not my place to say anything. He's a grown man...what can I say?
#8) I literally cried when mom found out about this. I knew how hurt she was because the divorce wasn't even final when he moved in with this lady. I could see the hurt in my mom's eyes, and could feel her heart breaking.
#9) My parents not being friends anymore is heartbreaking. They've known each other more than half of their lives, and dad just threw that away with some chick he's know a max of 4 years. Dumb ass.
#10) I had a life in Arkansas, I had friends, a great job, places I could go, and my own life. Having to just pick up and go back to Georgia where I'm so close to all my fears and bad memories was not on my to do list. It's not so bad seeing my family and friends often, but I hate not having a job, and going to my hometown a lot. I'm just not happy here.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
My 21st birthday
For my 21st birthday my husband and I came to our hometown. I was so excited because my father was going to be there and I had not seen him since he got back from Iraq. My parents were already divorced so I knew that it was going to be VERY awkward with my dad staying in the same house as my mom. My brother and I tried to act like everything was normal, but it was very hard. I was very glad that I wasn't actually staying with my mom. I was staying with my husband's parents.
My mom was being a total bitch to my dad the entire time he was there and not making him feel welcome at all. He was there to help get the house ready to sell even though he had not lived there for at least 4 years. You would think mom would be a little more grateful, but instead she was mad because he would hang out with his kids over her even though they were divorced.
My mom acting like this towards my dad made my dad weak and feel unloved. I'm not saying that his future actions were ok, but I understand why he did what he did.
I was so excited for a huge costume party (my birthday is on Halloween). I was a gypsy, my husband was woody from toy story, my dad was a terrorist, and my brother was a soldier. I was so happy to be partying with my dad and brother. At 12 A.M my brother gathered everybody in the house and everyone sang me happy birthday. Not even 10 minutes after this, my father said he wanted to go to a bar because the crowd at my party was too young for him to be hanging out with. My brother took him there, and my father asked him to pick him up in an hour. My brother got back to the party after dropping him off and informed me he wouldn't be drinking because he had to pick dad up in an hour. I said "ok". People had been shoving "birthday shots" in my face since my dad left, and lets just say I really didn't care what was going on at that point. I was singing and dancing to the music, playing pool with my brother, and just having a care free time. In all honesty it was the best party I've ever been to for my birthday.
An hour rolled by in what felt like 5 minutes, and my brother had to go and pick up my dad. Since I was having such a care free time my husband decided to go with him. Another hour passed and I was starting to get worried so I called my brother and didn't get an answer, then I called my husband and didn't get an answer. Not long after my brother called me back and yelled over loud music that dad wasn't at the place they left him, and my husband had just gotten into a fight at the bar they were at. He told me they were leaving now, and would see me in a few minutes. I quickly ran to the bathroom because i felt the tears building up, and didn't want anyone to see me cry. I went in there shed a tear or two, fixed my makeup, and put on a huge fake drunk smile. As soon as I get upset my drunkenness wears off so I really wasn't feeling it anymore. I got into a circle where people were doing shots together and said "hit me up"! I think I probably did about 3 shots back to back right there and chugged a beer from the keg.
I wanted to forget what I had just heard. Did my father really just disappear in the town where he started using drugs? I made about 5 calls to my dad that night trying to get him to answer his phone. How the fuck could he do this to me especially on my fucking birthday?! I was livid, and so hurt at the same time. I finally drank enough to wear I felt drunk and numb again. I was dancing to the music, kissing girls that I would never dream about kissing, being one of those whores at the parties that you fucking hate because they're so annoying. Yeah that's how I was being. Unfortunately I didn't get drunk enough to forget anything, or even get sick.
That afternoon I woke up, felt fine minus me remembering everything that happened last night, got some lunch, told my hung over husband who was sore from beating somebody's ass that night that I was going over to my moms to see if my dad had shown up that night. I got to my moms and found my mom and Josh sitting in the living room watching tv with looks of death on their faces. I knew at that point that dad wasn't there. I hugged mom and my brother and they both said happy birthday to me. I had made plans to have a family dinner at Red Lobster and it was getting very close to the time I had told mine and my husband's family to start showing up.
Finally about an hour before we had to leave to get to the restaurant my father showed up at the back door. I gave him a very dirty look as he said "hey". As soon as I shot him that dirty look he started crying. I got up and hugged him because I can't stand to see my father cry. Even though he has put me through so much pain, I hate to see him suffer. I asked him where he had been and he said "everywhere". My mom looked him in the eyes and asked "what's going on"? He said "nothing".
I could tell my father hadn't been doing crack. I could tell he had been up all night doing something, but he wasn't paranoid, he wasn't out of it, and he wasn't falling asleep with no warning. At this point I didn't want to know what he had done that night. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to forget it all ever happened. My dad showered and we all got ready to go to Red Lobster.
I had a good time. I had a couple of drinks, and had some cake. I got happy birthday sung to me and got to open some gifts. I was very happy, and had forgotten what had happened the night before. I don't think it fully hit me how much this hurt til I was back in Arkansas and my husband asked me how I was doing since my dad had done what he did on my birthday. I started crying and told him I wasn't ok and it hurt really badly.
I don't know that I can ever confront my dad about that night. Just because I can't stand to hear the pain in his voice. He knows that he hurt me, and he has apologized, but that doesn't feel like enough. Shouldn't that be enough? I've always been told to forgive and forget but I am having the hardest time with forgetting.
My mom was being a total bitch to my dad the entire time he was there and not making him feel welcome at all. He was there to help get the house ready to sell even though he had not lived there for at least 4 years. You would think mom would be a little more grateful, but instead she was mad because he would hang out with his kids over her even though they were divorced.
My mom acting like this towards my dad made my dad weak and feel unloved. I'm not saying that his future actions were ok, but I understand why he did what he did.
I was so excited for a huge costume party (my birthday is on Halloween). I was a gypsy, my husband was woody from toy story, my dad was a terrorist, and my brother was a soldier. I was so happy to be partying with my dad and brother. At 12 A.M my brother gathered everybody in the house and everyone sang me happy birthday. Not even 10 minutes after this, my father said he wanted to go to a bar because the crowd at my party was too young for him to be hanging out with. My brother took him there, and my father asked him to pick him up in an hour. My brother got back to the party after dropping him off and informed me he wouldn't be drinking because he had to pick dad up in an hour. I said "ok". People had been shoving "birthday shots" in my face since my dad left, and lets just say I really didn't care what was going on at that point. I was singing and dancing to the music, playing pool with my brother, and just having a care free time. In all honesty it was the best party I've ever been to for my birthday.
An hour rolled by in what felt like 5 minutes, and my brother had to go and pick up my dad. Since I was having such a care free time my husband decided to go with him. Another hour passed and I was starting to get worried so I called my brother and didn't get an answer, then I called my husband and didn't get an answer. Not long after my brother called me back and yelled over loud music that dad wasn't at the place they left him, and my husband had just gotten into a fight at the bar they were at. He told me they were leaving now, and would see me in a few minutes. I quickly ran to the bathroom because i felt the tears building up, and didn't want anyone to see me cry. I went in there shed a tear or two, fixed my makeup, and put on a huge fake drunk smile. As soon as I get upset my drunkenness wears off so I really wasn't feeling it anymore. I got into a circle where people were doing shots together and said "hit me up"! I think I probably did about 3 shots back to back right there and chugged a beer from the keg.
I wanted to forget what I had just heard. Did my father really just disappear in the town where he started using drugs? I made about 5 calls to my dad that night trying to get him to answer his phone. How the fuck could he do this to me especially on my fucking birthday?! I was livid, and so hurt at the same time. I finally drank enough to wear I felt drunk and numb again. I was dancing to the music, kissing girls that I would never dream about kissing, being one of those whores at the parties that you fucking hate because they're so annoying. Yeah that's how I was being. Unfortunately I didn't get drunk enough to forget anything, or even get sick.
That afternoon I woke up, felt fine minus me remembering everything that happened last night, got some lunch, told my hung over husband who was sore from beating somebody's ass that night that I was going over to my moms to see if my dad had shown up that night. I got to my moms and found my mom and Josh sitting in the living room watching tv with looks of death on their faces. I knew at that point that dad wasn't there. I hugged mom and my brother and they both said happy birthday to me. I had made plans to have a family dinner at Red Lobster and it was getting very close to the time I had told mine and my husband's family to start showing up.
Finally about an hour before we had to leave to get to the restaurant my father showed up at the back door. I gave him a very dirty look as he said "hey". As soon as I shot him that dirty look he started crying. I got up and hugged him because I can't stand to see my father cry. Even though he has put me through so much pain, I hate to see him suffer. I asked him where he had been and he said "everywhere". My mom looked him in the eyes and asked "what's going on"? He said "nothing".
I could tell my father hadn't been doing crack. I could tell he had been up all night doing something, but he wasn't paranoid, he wasn't out of it, and he wasn't falling asleep with no warning. At this point I didn't want to know what he had done that night. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to forget it all ever happened. My dad showered and we all got ready to go to Red Lobster.
I had a good time. I had a couple of drinks, and had some cake. I got happy birthday sung to me and got to open some gifts. I was very happy, and had forgotten what had happened the night before. I don't think it fully hit me how much this hurt til I was back in Arkansas and my husband asked me how I was doing since my dad had done what he did on my birthday. I started crying and told him I wasn't ok and it hurt really badly.
I don't know that I can ever confront my dad about that night. Just because I can't stand to hear the pain in his voice. He knows that he hurt me, and he has apologized, but that doesn't feel like enough. Shouldn't that be enough? I've always been told to forgive and forget but I am having the hardest time with forgetting.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
I hate when people tell me how something should affect me.
Originally written Wednesday September 15, 2010.
My dad is coming home from Iraq next week. He'll be home for good. He's trying to find a job outside of the U.S. That kind of hurts my feelings that he doesn't want to be close to my brother and me, but I don't think he means for it to hurt me. I would just like to see him more than once a year.
An old family friend is helping mom sell the house. It's crazy how people pop back up in your life. I wonder if she knows mom and dad are divorced. I'm sure she'll know by the time she looks at the house.
You know what I hate? When people tell me "at least your parent's divorce doesn't affect your life." Maybe it doesn't affect where I live, and maybe I don't have to choose who to stay with, but my parents have made it through thick and thin. My mom dealt with dad;s crack addiction, dealt without living with him for years because of the army, dealt with him being a totally different person than the one she married, and then all of a sudden she decides to call it quits. My parents still being together after 22 years was amazing to me. They got married young like me, had been together since high school like my husband and me, and acted like they were going to be together for the rest of their lives. They were my role models for love. They showed me that love could make it through anything, and now I'm not so sure. Doesn't affect me my ass...
My dad is coming home from Iraq next week. He'll be home for good. He's trying to find a job outside of the U.S. That kind of hurts my feelings that he doesn't want to be close to my brother and me, but I don't think he means for it to hurt me. I would just like to see him more than once a year.
An old family friend is helping mom sell the house. It's crazy how people pop back up in your life. I wonder if she knows mom and dad are divorced. I'm sure she'll know by the time she looks at the house.
You know what I hate? When people tell me "at least your parent's divorce doesn't affect your life." Maybe it doesn't affect where I live, and maybe I don't have to choose who to stay with, but my parents have made it through thick and thin. My mom dealt with dad;s crack addiction, dealt without living with him for years because of the army, dealt with him being a totally different person than the one she married, and then all of a sudden she decides to call it quits. My parents still being together after 22 years was amazing to me. They got married young like me, had been together since high school like my husband and me, and acted like they were going to be together for the rest of their lives. They were my role models for love. They showed me that love could make it through anything, and now I'm not so sure. Doesn't affect me my ass...
Friday, April 1, 2011
I'm so much like my father it's scary.
My father: Smart, loving, caring, nice, and funny.
Me: Smart, loving, caring, nice, and funny.
My father: has addictive personality, gets attached to quickly, gets angry at stupid things.
Me: has addictive personality, gets attached to quickly, gets angry at stupid things.
It scares the hell out of me how alike I am to my father. He had everything going for him, he went to medical school, he graduated cum lade (I don't know how to spell it, but it means with honors). He had a great job, a great home, and a great life. He tried crack one time and liked it, so he did it again. The only reason he tried crack was because cigarettes and pot didn't give him the feeling he was looking for anymore.
If I drink caffeine 3 days in a row. I'm addicted to it. If I have a cigar every day during the weekend, I'm addicted to them. I even tell my husband to monitor my drinking because I would probably drink every night if I could. There was a point where I was drinking during the week, and smoking cigars every day when I wasn't drinking. I finally was able to get a hold of myself and stop, but it's so scary because I can understand how dad gets addicted to things so quickly, because I can get addicted to things so quickly.
Apparently this addictive personality runs in the family. My dad's dad was addicted to sex, my uncle was addicted to heroine, my dad's grandfather was an alcoholic, my dad's sister is addicted to pills, and I'm sure there are more cases, but I honestly don't know much about my dad's family.
I think that part of the reason my father goes looking for things to make him feel good is because his father wasn't there for him, he watched his step father get murdered right in front of him, he was away from his family for a few years while in medical school so he doesn't feel like he was there for us, and he doesn't know how to cope with all that. When I'm depressed I go looking for things to make me feel better, mostly alcohol and someone to talk to.
When my husband's with me I'm ok, but while he was deployed, I probably spent about $50 a week on alcohol...not a good thing. Oh, and did I mention my dad is a functioning alcoholic? Yeah, this scares me. Scares me so much that I have come to find I stop myself after my 3rd drink unless it's beer. I'm 21...I'm supposed to live a little right? Is it sad that I think like this already? That I can't just let loose? It's a constant battle I have with myself every day, and yes I literally mean every day.
Me: Smart, loving, caring, nice, and funny.
My father: has addictive personality, gets attached to quickly, gets angry at stupid things.
Me: has addictive personality, gets attached to quickly, gets angry at stupid things.
It scares the hell out of me how alike I am to my father. He had everything going for him, he went to medical school, he graduated cum lade (I don't know how to spell it, but it means with honors). He had a great job, a great home, and a great life. He tried crack one time and liked it, so he did it again. The only reason he tried crack was because cigarettes and pot didn't give him the feeling he was looking for anymore.
If I drink caffeine 3 days in a row. I'm addicted to it. If I have a cigar every day during the weekend, I'm addicted to them. I even tell my husband to monitor my drinking because I would probably drink every night if I could. There was a point where I was drinking during the week, and smoking cigars every day when I wasn't drinking. I finally was able to get a hold of myself and stop, but it's so scary because I can understand how dad gets addicted to things so quickly, because I can get addicted to things so quickly.
Apparently this addictive personality runs in the family. My dad's dad was addicted to sex, my uncle was addicted to heroine, my dad's grandfather was an alcoholic, my dad's sister is addicted to pills, and I'm sure there are more cases, but I honestly don't know much about my dad's family.
I think that part of the reason my father goes looking for things to make him feel good is because his father wasn't there for him, he watched his step father get murdered right in front of him, he was away from his family for a few years while in medical school so he doesn't feel like he was there for us, and he doesn't know how to cope with all that. When I'm depressed I go looking for things to make me feel better, mostly alcohol and someone to talk to.
When my husband's with me I'm ok, but while he was deployed, I probably spent about $50 a week on alcohol...not a good thing. Oh, and did I mention my dad is a functioning alcoholic? Yeah, this scares me. Scares me so much that I have come to find I stop myself after my 3rd drink unless it's beer. I'm 21...I'm supposed to live a little right? Is it sad that I think like this already? That I can't just let loose? It's a constant battle I have with myself every day, and yes I literally mean every day.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
"Your mother's supposed to get you your first tampon, your dad's supposed to go with you to get your first license."
I was watching Secret life of the American teenager, and something was said that struck a nerve. "Your mother is supposed to get you your first tampon, your dad's supposed to go with you to get your first license." It's amazing how much my mother had to do for me over the years.
My dad was in rehab when I got my license so my mom had to take me to the DMV so I could drive myself around. My dad should have been there. He was the one who pretty much taught me how to drive around in the school parking lot, he was the one who let me sit in his lap when I was 8 years old and steer the wheel in the driveway. Why was he not there for me when I got my license? Oh yeah, because he was in rehab for being addicted to crack.
I can't imagine how my brother feels. He was only 13 when this mess started. My father and I have a good relationship right now, but only because I'm a very forgiving person. My brother tries to have a good relationship with dad, but can't seem to have as good of one as dad and I do. My brother didn't know dad as well as me. I was daddy's little girl, and he was mommy's little boy. That's just how it was and he didn't fully understand what was going on at 13.
I knew who dad was, and knew that he was just making horrible decisions. My brother didn't. My husband has big issues with my dad. Any time that I think he's relapsed I automatically tell my husband. My husband says "he's such a dumbass!" I don't like the fact that my husband thinks of my father that way. My husband is supposed to respect my father, and he doesn't at all. I constantly tell him that dad is such a great man, that he loves me with all of his heart, and that I wish he would have known him before the drugs. He just can't understand how you can love somebody so much and hurt them over and over again. More importantly he hates to see me hurting, and can't stand anyone who makes me hurt. It hurts me to the bone to know that my husband will never know the father that I know.
No matter what, dad will always be in a battle against crack. No matter how long he stays sober, he's always going to think about it, it's always going to be in the back of his head. He's like a zombie, but instead of wanting brains, he wants crack.
My dad was in rehab when I got my license so my mom had to take me to the DMV so I could drive myself around. My dad should have been there. He was the one who pretty much taught me how to drive around in the school parking lot, he was the one who let me sit in his lap when I was 8 years old and steer the wheel in the driveway. Why was he not there for me when I got my license? Oh yeah, because he was in rehab for being addicted to crack.
I can't imagine how my brother feels. He was only 13 when this mess started. My father and I have a good relationship right now, but only because I'm a very forgiving person. My brother tries to have a good relationship with dad, but can't seem to have as good of one as dad and I do. My brother didn't know dad as well as me. I was daddy's little girl, and he was mommy's little boy. That's just how it was and he didn't fully understand what was going on at 13.
I knew who dad was, and knew that he was just making horrible decisions. My brother didn't. My husband has big issues with my dad. Any time that I think he's relapsed I automatically tell my husband. My husband says "he's such a dumbass!" I don't like the fact that my husband thinks of my father that way. My husband is supposed to respect my father, and he doesn't at all. I constantly tell him that dad is such a great man, that he loves me with all of his heart, and that I wish he would have known him before the drugs. He just can't understand how you can love somebody so much and hurt them over and over again. More importantly he hates to see me hurting, and can't stand anyone who makes me hurt. It hurts me to the bone to know that my husband will never know the father that I know.
No matter what, dad will always be in a battle against crack. No matter how long he stays sober, he's always going to think about it, it's always going to be in the back of his head. He's like a zombie, but instead of wanting brains, he wants crack.
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