Goodbye (?)


I was watching this video today and the comments on youtube were kind of thoughtful in some ways. One woman commented how she was 7 months out of a 6 yr abusive relationship and her sister told her it was her theme song. Another person commented that they felt that way about their depression for the song.

It occurred to me when I was watching the video the symbolism that I saw. The video is about transformations. The black fruit in the beginning- drugs. Eating something bad for you. Indulgent behavior. The pins in Christian’s back are what the girls are holding and using to walk with- crutches. Vices.

She was trapped in a box with blackness. Mindlessness. Darkness. Blindness. Refusing to see. She busts out of the box!!! She staggers away, the black billowing around her. The pins stick out of her back, and the more she staggers on, she’s able to pull the pins from her back and throw them away from herself.

I have felt this way about my relationship with weed. It is a relationship. I have been an everyday user for the past NINE (9) YEARS. It is officially the longest relationship that I have ever had. Boyfriends have come and gone, and still yet weed has remained.

I started smoking when I was 18 years old. I was in college and dating my first boyfriend. He had been smoking and hiding it from me and I was not happy about weed being in his life. I thought it made him stupid. I thought only bad people did drugs. I tried to make him stop smoking, and he would not give it up for me. I tried to issue an ultimatum and he would not have it. I didn’t want to break up with him, even though he was doing something I looked down.

I decided I had to give it a try to see why it was so important to him. He wasn’t willing to give it up for me, so I reasoned it must be…. cool. Good in some way. It was certainly important since he wouldn’t give it up for me. I tried it and everything was funny. We started doing it together until it became pretty much the focal point of our relationship.

We would sit out back in his dad’s garage and smoke. It was our main activity eventually. He was the one who started it for me, and I knew when I started that I started for the wrong reason. I felt pressured to do it. I had backed myself into a corner- give it up for me OR….. and I wasn’t willing to leave my boyfriend for not giving it up. I reasoned if it was a part of his life, I didn’t want to be excluded from that part of his life. I felt like I had to do it, try it.

It wasn’t hard for me to start enjoying it rather than resenting it. I came to love and enjoy it. And even when my first boyfriend broke up with me, I still wanted to do it and kept up the usage. I smoked with my next boyfriend after that, too. I don’t necessarily remember it being everyday in that relationship….

Things changed with my relationship with weed when I got with my first older boyfriend. He was an alcoholic. We both liked to smoke. It was then that my relationship with weed became something different. It wasn’t a fun thing to do anymore, it was a necessity. He and I spent our evenings figuring out ways to get high. It wasn’t optional anymore- I took to his addictive behavior like a fish to water. Suddenly, I needed the weed. I didn’t just enjoy it, I was willing to do a lot of things to get it and smoke it.

We would go to his brother’s house and beg him for balls of resin if we couldn’t afford weed. Anything to get that THC. We used to carefully transport it back to his house and he devised clever ways to smoke it and make it last. We’d put just a tiny speck of it on the head of a needle embedded in a piece of cardboard and light it, putting it under a glass and inhaling as much as we could from the trace amounts that we had. I didn’t just want need, I needed it.

I used to criticize him for his drinking problem, and he in turn told me, “You smoke weed like I drink.” I wasn’t willing to admit that I had a problem, that I had an addictive personality as well. I was addicted. I needed it. I threw away all my old friends during this period of my life. I gave up my old friends for drugs and alcohol. I told myself they were boring and lame, liking board games and never wanting to get drunk. I wanted a fun life, high life, drunken stories. My friends were not going down the same path as me, so I left them behind.

I didn’t just want to get drunk or high, I wanted to forget myself. I smoked and drank to excess. I didn’t just drink for a little buzz, I wanted to be black out drunk and not remember anything the next day. I thought I was having fun, but I was running away from my problems.

My granny had passed away and my mother’s depression was deep. I couldn’t face the depth of my mother’s depression. I used to sit in my room and listen to her shuffling cards in the living room and her loneliness was suffocating to me. She needed me in some way I couldn’t provide. My mom needed someone to take care of her, and I resented it and ran away. She was supposed to be taking care of me, but instead at every turn she tried to put me down or make me feel bad about myself. We had a bad relationship that was toxic to me.

Partly why I tossed my hat in with Joshua so much is because I was needing a mother really bad. He lived with his mother, and she was spiritual and nice to me. She only saw good things in me where my mother never wasted an opportunity to try and make me feel stupid or inadequate in some way.

When I met Jake, I still had a bad relationship with my mother. I was mostly living in my car and off the kindness of my exes. I hated going home. I hated being around my mother. Her loneliness killed me, I had to get away. I couldn’t make her better, she only ever got worse. I didn’t like to go home so I would spend nights using wifi in Mcdonald’s parking lots or I would stay the night with Hakim or Joshua, bouncing back and forth between the two. There were nights that were question marks to me, not knowing where I could go but home. I didn’t want to be there.

When I got with Jake, there was FINALLY someone to take care of me. There was finally someone who wanted to possess me and keep me and do right by me. He bought me clothes and he took me away from my mother. He welcomed me into his life and his home and he let me bring my weed with me even though he no longer smoked himself.

Through all those years, I kept on smoking weed. I’ve tried to quit smoking weed in the past and I never felt the way that I do right now. The first time I tried to quit cold turkey and I was a basket case, extremely emotional. I couldn’t quit. My compulsion was too strong. I needed it. I went back on it after only 5 days.

The next time I tried to quit, I actually went over a week without it. I went 12 days. That time I threw away my pipes. I don’t remember why I started back when I did. This time, I believe I have actually hit the 12 day mark and I feel differently about it.

I’m not necessarily quitting cold turkey, I have went like a few days at a time and then had a smoke of resin that I have still laying around. The problem before is I would have that compulsion to smoke and I had to go out and buy a bag of weed, and that was history. Having a bag of weed meant I needed to smoke it all. I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t sit down and just have a little, or only every once in awhile. If I had weed, the goal was to smoke it all consecutively until it was gone and get more.

My one year wedding anniversary is next month. I got married when I was 26 and part of the reason why is because I recognized I wasn’t getting any younger. I wasn’t 23 anymore, if I waited around I might end up old and alone. I looked at Jacob and I told myself, you know by now if this is going to work out. If you don’t want to marry him, then you need to leave him. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him, so I married him.

This time around smoking feels different because my motivation has been more adult that I could ever have imagined. I’m 27 now and when am I going to have children? When am I going to grow up? I can’t smoke weed forever.

I have had urges to smoke, have romanticized my relationship with weed. I thought I was missing the joy in my life by not smoking. I wasn’t happy not smoking and I thought about how good I feel and how much more I smile when I’m smoking, but I’m not really living. Smoking is the same thing as when I used to want to get drunk all the time. I thought I was having a good time, but I wasn’t— I was trying to forget myself.

You can’t forget yourself, though. Like I said, my motivation for quitting is entirely different this time. I looked at my life and I realized I was not happy. All my friends are fictional and I never see my family. I spent all my nights watching TV and all my days off sitting at home smoking weed. Weed is keeping me from being the person that I need to become.

I decided to go back to school this fall. I quit college almost 4 years ago, and with the decision to go back I started thinking more about my future. Jake says I am not healthy enough to have natural children. I weigh too much. I smoke too much. I’m not responsible enough. Weed has done a lot of things for me over the years, but now I am realizing what I always knew.

Weed keeps me from;

  • cleaning house
  • having meaningful relationships with my family
  • making friends/strengthening friendships
  • working out
  • caring about myself
  • attending to my husband’s needs/a better marriage
  • making more money

I’m sorry weed but I can’t keep doing this. I want all the things I just listed. I don’t want to surrender to mindlessness anymore. I don’t want to not care about myself. I want lungs that are healthy and I want to get healthier, eat better, go to sleep earlier. I want more money in my pocket. I want to be better than I have in the past. I want to do something that my future self will thank me for. Weed, you are keeping me from realizing my full potential. You are holding me back. And when someone holds you back, you either let them go and move on, or you resign yourself to your fate.

I don’t have to resign myself to this fate. I want more for my life. I want to like myself. I want to have friends. I want to have a better marriage and more money. I have to leave you. I can’t be with you anymore. We had a lot of good time together, and there’s nothing wrong with you in small amounts, but this life where you are the only thing that matters is not working anymore. I don’t want you 16 hours of the day anymore. I don’t want you to be my everything. I want a life.

Progress Not Perfection

Lyrics:

I’m so full of love I could barely eat

There’s nothing sweeter than my baby

I’d never want once from the cherry tree

‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin’ me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

*~*~*

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the lord don’t forgive me

I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the lowland plot I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down


I saw a commercial today for Gatorade. Michael Jordan asked, “Do you want to know what the key to victory is? Defeat.”

There is something to be said in rising every time you fail. I was/am trying to quit smoking and I am making slip ups. If my goal was to give up smoking cold turkey, then I have failed my mission.

I feel so much happier when I smoke. I ask myself, “Why am I denying myself this? It feels so good.” It feels so good to not care. But god dammit, not caring is a slippery slope. I feel care-free right now and relieved from smoking some dirty resin. But how quickly care-free turns into a bottomless pit of despair that you’re sitting at the bottom of, smoking to forget where you are.

It’s terrible living in such despair. I have to stay away from it. I did a bad job lately when it comes to my self-reflection. For the past week and a half I have been neglecting to journal in my One Day at a Time journal and it’s fucked me up missing those days.

I have been participating in Al-Anon privately. Unfortunately, I’ve only ever went to one actual meeting and that was years ago for someone else’s problem. I realize I need to go to the meetings, I just haven’t made it a priority since I am trying to be dedicated more so to the literature. I’m on Step 4 right now which is to make a “fearless and searching moral inventory of yourself.”

That is a hard enough step without moving onto the next one. Step 5, “Become willing to admit these faults to another human being.” I made an appointment with a therapist. I could go to free meetings, but I’m too intimidated to go into a room of other people. I feel like I have to start small and admit my secrets to one person. Maybe she’ll be able to help me, but I can’t be sure. Then perhaps I can move onto the group meetings, I just feel not equal to it currently.

It’s hard to care about myself when I’ve spent so much time perfecting not caring. One nice thing about quitting smoking is that my dreams are coming back. I’ve been getting better sleep and feeling more rested. I’m not late to work because I’m smoking. I’ve been showing up to work earlier.

I have had to take more anxiety pills. It’s been 10 days since I’ve smoked actual weed. I have refrained from buying more. Technically, all I am doing is getting rid of the last of my stash. I just have a little resin left. I know I should throw it away. I have considered asking my husband to hide it for emergencies. I can’t bring myself to let him hide it, or throw it away.

Even if I’ve smoked resin a few times since Day 1, my habits are drastically improved. In my past life, I came home at 11:30pm and sat down in front of the computer and I smoked until sun up. Then I would wake and bake before work the next day. About 7 hours of the day is what I was averaging sober before. I am making progress, even if I’ve fucked up and indulged some. I just have to have a stricter resolve.

I have to remember that my discomfort is TEMPORARY. IT WILL PASS.


Steve Carell is known as a funny guy, but he has some excellent romantic roles in him as well. My hubby and I just watched;

Related image

He had some fucking killer lines. My heart broke for them. Some of my favorite lines-

Image result for seeking a friend for the end of the world quotesPenny: I wish I’d met you a long time ago. When we were kids.

Dodge: It couldn’t have happened any other way. It had to happen now.

Penny: But it isn’t enough time.

Dodge: It never would have been.

Penny: I’m scared.

Dodge: I… am madly in love with you, Penny. You’re my favorite, favorite thing.

Penny: I thought that somehow we’d save each other.

Dodge: We did. Penny. I’m really glad I got to know you.

Birthday Reflections

My birthday has come and gone. 26 started as good year for me. It was the year I got married. I should have taken it as a good sign when I went one birthday without bawling my eyes out. 27 was not such a lucky start.

My 27th birthday began horribly. I had to spend it with my angry husband and alienated biological father. My husband and I got into a HUGE HORRENDOUS argument over the fact that my useless father doesn’t have a vehicle. He had a 2 o’clock curfew for the half way house with no ride home.

Jake would not allow us to give him a ride because of the contents of his pockets. He had good reason to deny the request seeing as we never know what he might be carrying- but Jake has been pulled over exactly ONCE in the almost 4 years I’ve known him.  I figured it would be safe enough, so I argued with my husband.

I had a mental breakdown first thing in the morning since we were arguing about it as soon as we woke up. He screamed bloody murder at me in the car and told me he didn’t care about me. On my birthday at some point he inevitably suggests we shouldn’t be together anymore. He has a specialty in fucking the day up, always needing to bring me to hysterical tears.

I was bawling in the walgreens we went to pick a father’s day card from. My birthday was 2 days before Father’s Day. I was already late to my meeting with Johnny. That was traumatic in and of itself, standing in the walgreen’s greeting card aisle tears streaming down my face as my husband disrespects me and cusses me as I frantically search through the cards.

So many wrong cards for Johnny; Best Dad Ever, You’re My Super Hero, Thank You For Always Being There For Me Dad, I Love You. It’s more like-

Dear Biological Father;

I wish my mother had never told me about you. She kept the secret from me for over 20 years, what was the rest of my life? I would have preferred she took her secret to the grave. I don’t want to know you or love you. I wish you were a long-forgotten lover of hers. I wish you had remained a distant memory from her past. I wish you had never reconnected, or ever showed me any love. I regret knowing about you, and wish I could forget she ever told me about you. 

Be Gone.

On the way out of Walgreens, Jake threatened to throw me out of the car and leave me. He screamed more at me, and I bawled uncontrollably because he’s always threatening me with divorce, making me feel like I’m not wanted.

When we got to my mother’s house where Johnny was waiting, Jake went so far as to threaten to leave me alone. He got in the car and started it up. I stayed standing on the porch in front of the front door with my heart in my throat from my nervous breakdown and the stress of seeing my father for the first time in two years, before I collapsed into tears out of sight of the front window and by my mother’s front yard fence.

There were so many feelings mixed with Jake’s hurt he inflicted. I hadn’t seen my dad in two years on purpose. We hadn’t spoken, and I felt wretchedly guilty about shutting him out of my life. I felt ashamed of myself. I was scared to look him in the eyes. I was afraid he’d look at me with an angry or injured expression, and I felt like I couldn’t escape.

Instead he held me non-judgmentally while Jake was making me cry. His embrace was so warm and sincere I definitely felt comforted from my earlier breakdown. I cried in his arms, but I think he thought I was emotionally charged from seeing him again, which I was partly. It felt good to be forgiven without having to ask.

I hate him for loving me the way I want to be loved. No one has loved me like him since my ex Elizabeth and my Grandma. He doesn’t believe I can do anything wrong. I am golden to him, and it’s a fucking crying shame to be so revered by someone you cannot even bare to speak with.

It feels wretched to me, to crave his perception of me and his love, but to not be able to welcome him into my life. I feel like me and my parents are standing on two different sides of a canyon, I can’t love them even when I try.

If I want Johnny’s good, I have to accept his bad, and I won’t. I can’t. So if I can’t stomach his bad, I don’t deserve his good. You can’t pick and choose what you want from a person, you get all of them or nothing. And with Johnny, I find myself wondering how safe nothing is.

Is it worth this empty feeling inside?

 

Addictions and What Like

Image result for shameless season 2

Jake and I have been watching the show Shameless on Netflix lately. At first, I found the show to be entertaining- somehow making light of alcoholism and the myriad of other dysfunctions that are going on in the show. It made it seem funny somehow, when really it is just so fucking overwhelming.

The last episode that we watched together, I found my anxiety spiking. When I talked to my friend Latta about the show he told me the show actually stressed him out to watch and suddenly I felt the same way. The episode hit a little too close to home.

Frank the protagonist’s mother gets out of jail. She has been serving a 12 year stretch for meth and drug charges, been released on medical leave an old mean woman. Frank hates her as much as she bullies him and makes him take care of her personal hygiene and the like when she gets out. She’s old and decrepit and it is stated that she should be in a hospice.

She comes into some money that she exhorts out of her old business partner. Having been missing from her grandchildren’s lives growing up, she starts buying them gifts which wins her their affections. The two youngest children get spoiled and love her for it. She takes the youngest kid Carl and decides “let’s teach you a skill.”

In which she meant she was going to teach him how to make a meth lab. -___- In their attempts to get things started, the lab blows up and Fiona the oldest daughter and caregiver of the family banishes Frank’s mother from their home.

Frank’s mother is dying of pancreatic cancer. Frank responds to this by stealing her pain medication and disappearing. He leaves his mother with his girlfriend, Sheila. Sheila has publicly gone on record stating how much she hates this woman, yet in the face of her disease she starts to soften towards the older lady. With the help of her daughter’s ex, she takes care of Frank’s mom until she expressed the desire to kill herself.

Fiona the caregiver had out Frank’s mother in time out, she said. The kids weren’t allowed to go and see her. The grandma is mad that the children don’t come to see her. It seems like she is shameless like the show suggests because she doesn’t seem to think anything of her behavior; i.e. nearly getting a 10 year old killed in a meth lab explosion.

She doesn’t have any reason to live, no one wants her. Her son (Frank) hates her and doesn’t want to take care of her. Her grandchildren aren’t allowed to see her. She is already in a lot of pain. She asks Sheila to help her end her life, and Sheila obliges.

I had to change to something else to watch after that episode. The way the Grandma felt and the pity I felt for her unsettled me so much. It made me think about my own mother, a guilty feeling curling in my gut.

I never see my mother if I can help it. Her addiction and the people she spends time with make me stay away. I don’t feel safe when I go to her house, my childhood home. She must feel as lonely as the Grandma did, and it hurts me to think. She makes me stay away, she could be different, but she won’t be. I hate having to draw the line and never see her. Our family was never like that, and yet here I am. Alienating myself from her, because it’s easier than watching her suffer.

She suffers and there’s nothing I can do to change her behavior. She has to make the decision, but she hasn’t. She makes me stay away. She doesn’t want me around, or she would change. I know it’s impossible… I couldn’t do anything for Joshua either. They have to make these decisions on their own, and mom isn’t ready to. I can’t make her get a job, I can’t make her stop.

I want to be around her. I want not to be stressed out every time she calls asking for something. I want to be able to talk to her without feeling upset. She makes me feel so guilty, like if I could love her harder it would make a difference. But it wouldn’t, and it’s a hard pill for me to swallow. She keeps me away. I hate her for it. But they do say hate is love twisted, it’s that depth of feeling I can’t escape. I wouldn’t want to escape, I just wish she could make things easier. I wish loving her wasn’t so hard.

Loving my father is complicated, too. I value his love, but I hate his lifestyle. I can’t be around or even talk to him. He’s been living in a half way house and he and my mother have reconnected again. She gets to spend a few hours a day with him. And are they looking for a job for him to maintain his status at the half way house? No sireebob. (Who was surprised by that?)

As much as I dislike my father, I’m happy my mom is happy. They are a stupid couple that makes no sense. They both have too much pride to be together. They’re both too head strong. For their relationship to work properly, they’d both have to be different people. I don’t know how, but they somehow make it work even though they’re fighting all the time. They have a very on-again-off-again kind of relationship. It’s hard for me to keep up.

I am dreading December. My dad will get out of the half way house around then, and come back to live with my mom. They are talking about getting married. I would be thrilled if my mother got married, as much as I don’t like him. He loves me, maybe he’ll grow on me. Then she would be his problem. I never know what to do about them, besides hold them at arm’s length.

Some Dads Don’t Come Home

After all the worrying I have done – after all the dread I felt knowing this day would come….. Fate still has a way of throwing me for a loop. My dad has been in jail, and I have purposefully alienated myself from him. I haven’t been interested to know him, or believe any word he’s said. He would say he’s going to be different, full of the Lord, that he doesn’t want to go back to jail. It’s hard to believe him, maybe he doesn’t right now, but they always forget. Someone who’s a repeat offender like himself.

I lived in dread knowing the day was coming, he would be out and I would have to face him. After months of silence and dejection- see his face, tell him, “I had nothing nice to say to you, so I just didn’t say anything.”

Now I have learned from my mother that he is out- and he is not coming back. I expected my mother would be there for him, and she would bring him home. He would move back in and they would go back to their topsy-turvy stupid relationship. First, they love each other one moment and hate each other the next. Not to mention all the drug use. I was scared of him sucking her back in, or vice versa, him trying to do good and her refusing to follow along, dragging him back down.

Instead, he has bounced from prison to a half way house somewhere in our city and he has not sent word to my mother or myself. He has disappeared without a trace. My mother inquired at the prison one day and found out that he had been released from there, and I cannot imagine her heart break. I worry about the woman all the time, and him not coming back to her has her on my mind more often. I worry about her. I hope she’ll be okay, I feel bad for her that her lover has….. disappeared like this.

I feel guilty. I feel bad. He got the message. I don’t want you. I didn’t, but do I still not? I feel some kind of void in my chest wondering how I have let him go. Have I done the right thing, was I a royal bitch? The man bears my name on his knuckles as a sign of his love, and this woman snubs him, a woman he wants to love. She won’t let him love her because his destructive life hurts too much. It hurts to be near, the love isn’t enough.

Did I miss out on something though? It is always nice to be loved, adored. I was a golden light in his eyes, and it’s hard not to be swayed by such a thing. No one has loved me like that since my Grandma and Elizabeth. Someone who thinks you can do no wrong, turns a blind eye to all your faults. I feel remorseful missing out on that. He just wanted to love me, and I wouldn’t let him. Couldn’t let him. Pushed him away.

Did I mean to push him so far?

Oblivious by Miniature Tigers

Lately I feel like a blown out birthday candle
One look in the mirror and I know the party’s over
And yeah, I want a big house
With a swimming pool
Fuck it, baby, I got you
(Fuck it, baby I got you)

I’m so lost in my head
It’s way too real out there
I’m lost in a day dream
Oh yeah, I don’t care

I’m oblivious, yeah

Spaced out in a daze I couldn’t hear you
The music drowns you out I didn’t care
Oh yeah, I didn’t care
I know you want a quiet house
With a lemon tree
I’m sorry baby, you’re stuck with me
(Sorry baby, you’re stuck with me)

I’m so lost in my head
It’s way too real out there
I’m lost in a day dream
I don’t care

I’m oblivious, yeah
I’m oblivious, oh
I’m oblivious, yeah
I’m oblivious, oh whoa

Your love girl, ain’t no dungeon
So tell me why do I run then?
Tomorrow you can scold me
Tonight, can you just hold me

Read more: Miniature Tigers – Oblivious Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Time to Make a Change

Image result for change job

The last time I posted, I was very dissatisfied with things going on at work. I am still upset at this point, and for more reasons than one.

My enthusiasm for my work is gone. I’ve been very fed up with the lack of staff. I don’t particularly like the people I work with. I know it would make me happier to work somewhere that is managed better. The managers at my current job are just not well-enough equipped to do their jobs. There are so many tasks and standards to adhere to, and not enough hands or time.

Things seem to be going south. Further and further. My boss just gave her two weeks notice, for health reasons. I am not looking forward to the interim period where they are trying to hire for her position, because…. yes, I have determined I am not interested in it.

The hours are undesirable. The work load is undesirable. The responsibility of covering shifts that are missed by co-workers are too frequent/taxing. I am quite unenthused with needy guests lately. I’ve been stressed out to the maximum, and resenting the way things are being handled. The attention to detail is annoying. I am tired of management, actually. It pains me to admit that.

At least for a while, I might possibly need a break. As I was anguishing over my career and life in general, I decided to call someone wise for advice. Talking to Jake is good because he is supportive but he doesn’t always understand where I am coming from. I decided to give my Grandpa a call, and I laid it all out on the line for his consideration:

Image result for change job

I have been considering changing career paths. It’s been really distressing to me admitting to myself that I don’t have what it takes to properly do the front office manager job. I found myself explaining to Grandpa that I was not able to adhere to the standard I hold for myself in the job, and that’s true because I have high expectations. It was very comforting talking to my Grandpa, because just when I really think I’m being stupid, he has a way of making me sound really smart.

He says it’s good to recognize your own limits. It’s only giving up if you choose to view it that way. He says I’m making a conscious decision to better adjust myself. Just because I don’t have the maturity and organizational skills to manage the job now, doesn’t mean that I won’t be wonderful at it years from now. Exploring a new career path does not mean that I can never go back into the hospitality career.

I thought a career change might be nice because it would be a whole new way of life. All the jobs I have applied to have been during normal working hours, day time hours. It would be a radical change for me, and who knows if it would make me happier?

I’ve been stuck wondering if I just need some anxiety or depression pills to make me better, or do I need a whole new everything?????

I’m going to try the whole new everything.

 

Dads & Drugs

Today, I was vexed when I looked down at my cellphone and saw it was my dad calling. My biological dad, not my first dad. It is tiresome how I always have to clarify whom I’m talking about when I say “my dad.” Who, Eddie, the man who believed was my father for over 20 years? Or my second dad, my real dad, whom I’ve only known for less than 3 years? And he has literally spent half of that time incarcerated.

I am really resentful that he landed himself in jail again. Both he and my mom were addicted and also running their own game. It was simple, Johnny got caught and got thrown in jail. That was over a year ago. He told me today that at the beginning of 2017, he should be moving to a half way house in Oklahoma City. I thought it was incredibly tactful of my dad not to bring up the fact that I haven’t written him. I don’t normally take his calls, or return his texts with any frequency. I have chosen to freeze him out, make him feel my absence while he is gone so he won’t take advantage of our time together. He treats my mother poorly even though he’s inside and she’s outside and still heartily dedicated to him.

I don’t actually like my biological dad. He has been a harbinger of chaos in my mother’s life. We have a complicated relationship. He thinks the world of me and speaks very highly of me, so it’s hard to have hard feelings towards him when he’s so nice to me. But at the same time, everything he says to me is a lie and I expect him to fall right back into his old ways again when he gets out. I don’t trust him or my mother to do the right thing. I desperately want them to live a drug free life and stay out of trouble, but one must wonder if that’s like asking a cheetah to change it’s spots……

I want to have faith, I just feel so drained.

Don’t disappoint me anymore. I hate hearing from my biological dad. When he texts me or calls me, it upsets me because he’s trying to get in when I’m trying to build a stone wall to keep him out. Leave me alone. Learn your lesson. I don’t have any use for either of my parents if they are on drugs and in danger of getting thrown back into jail.

I’ve always lived by the saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” That explains my silence towards Johnny. I want him to feel my condemnation, but I fear I can’t tell him anything about how I feel. It’s unkind to send a fellow in prison mean letters, so I just don’t say anything. He wants to hear from me, and I get agitated when I think about forging a connection with him. Stay away from me until you’re ready to do better. It’s so hard to set boundaries with people. I agonize frequently over whether or not to send him a letter with my clear expectations, No. 1 on the list:

Get & maintain a legitimate job
Pay Your Bills
Stay Off Drugs
Remain loyal to each other

Can that really be too much to ask? My mother and father’s relationship can be explosive like dynamite. One week they’re besotted with each other and talking everyday and other weeks, she asks me if I have heard from him at all. They fight, and they bounce back together. He gives her a lot of shit that in my mother’s past life, she would never ever have taken from a man. I don’t think he deserves her sometimes, and most of the time I think he’s a loser and I’m upset with her for wanting him so much, so they can do bad together.

But at least they’re together that way.