I Don’t Know Who I Am

Help! Identity crisis!

I was recently browsing amazon for great nerdy finds. I love Harry Potter, and was once very emotionally connected to it. I was consumed by the fanfiction and may end up going on a tangent about my favorite things in it in this post.

The fanfiction I wrote was about my own original character who was in the Hufflepuff house. She was Neville’s girlfriend, into Herbology like him and always kind to him. She was supportive of him in their senior year at Hogwarts, and went into battle beside him as a member of Dumbledore’s Army. Her name was Lenae Windsor and she was a registered magi with the ability to turn into a black cat. Her patronus is a panda bear. She’s friends with Luna, Ron, and Ginny. But most importantly, she was Hufflepuff because I always believed I would be sorted into Hufflepuff if I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

It was flattering, however, when I asked people which house I would belong to and they answered with Ravenclaw. I always forget that people pay attention to my intellectual abilities. I always assume people think I am nice, but a lot of them think of my smarts first. That’s a compliment in my book, so I would be proud to be a Huffleclaw, too.

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I never sported any delusions that I could be in House Gryffindor. I was not nearly so strong, bold, or unafraid. I was more like a wall flower, suited to house Hufflepuff in my eyes. The one thing I never suspected was to be in House Slytherin.

WOE IS ME lol I took the official sorting hat test on J.K.’s Pottermore website and was devastated when I was sorted into Slytherin =( =( =( =( =( !!!!!

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Hufflepuff has always seemed to be the polar opposite of Slytherins! Slytherins pick on Hufflepuffs, i.e. Draco Malfoy. (Then again he seemed to be an equal opportunity bully, picking on a multitude of people throughout the series.)

Hufflepuff Traits

  • Dedication
  • Hard Work
  • Fair play
  • Patience
  • Kindness
  • Tolerance
  • Unafraid of toil
  • Loyalty

I supposed I am guilty of associating bad guys with Slytherin. After all, many of Voldemort’s followers were from that house. Not all Slytherin are bad though, despite what you might think. I should be open minded. What are Slytherin’s traits?

Slytherin Traits

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I decided to take some back up tests and see what else I might get. The results are below.

Which House Are You In?

huffle

Which Hogwarts House Would You Be Sorted Into?

gryff

Which Hogwarts House Do You Belong In?


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Look at it as a learning lesson

I never have enough privacy to blog. For whatever reason, blogging is a private act to me and I have to have room for my thoughts. If my husband is near, it’s like a wall forms between my mind and my fingers and I can’t access my feelings or be normal. When he’s around, I have to be some kind of perfect house wife who blows him on the regular and doesn’t have a mind of her own. There is no room for my sadness and despair in our relationship. He doesn’t understand. He wants me to lock it up, close it away, don’t make him witness it or be affected by it. I’m sorry I’m getting my blue on you, but I am drowning in it over here. Please help me, please shoulder some of my burden. Take my mind away from me, help me to focus on something else.

I had a relapse in my journey to sobriety. Today was not the first time I thought I should be quitting again. I did wish today that I had never bought more weed, that I’d never quit my sobriety streak. I read some articles on line and they said to not see yourself as a failure, think of your relapse as a learning lesson. What did you learn about yourself during this most recent break down?

I was walking around feeling very sad about Jacob, my husband. I’d been walking around feeling dejected and emotionally denied. I was so far up his ass I lost myself. I didn’t care about myself, I was solely preoccupied with his actions and what he wasn’t doing for me. He wasn’t holding me, kissing me, acting romantic. All he wanted to do was play his game and it made me want to pull my hair out, I felt ignored and unloved. I felt very badly about myself. I was not thinking of my needs, only of what I wasn’t getting that I thought I deserved/wanted intensely. I was focusing on negative aspects and not positive.

The reason I broke down is because I stopped checking in on myself. I was keeping a daily journal in the beginning of my sobriety, but in the last couple of weeks I lost my focus. I stopped fueling my positive thoughts and was pouring gasoline over all of my negative thoughts, giving them power. I was not being wise. I was being petulant and small. I wasn’t thinking of things on a bigger scale.

The thing that did not work about this last round of sobriety is that I stopped journaling.  I stopped paying attention to myself because it was too hard. I stopped reading my 12 step program.

I can try different things this time. I could start attending the 2pm meeting on every other wednesday. I could find a different meeting. I believe a meeting would be a good thing to find. One thing I noticed a couple of different times is how badly I wanted to talk about my recovery. I wanted to feel accomplished and celebrate the length of my sobriety. I wanted someone to know how hard I was struggling and what little and large things were in my mind all the time now. I had Katie and my mom for that, but it’s not the same. Katie doesn’t know what addiction is like, and my mother has no desire to quit, so neither of them understand me the way that I have been craving.

Jacob could understand it and be a great sense of support, but he chooses to stay silent mostly. He is never encouraging in my sobriety. He can’t handle the raw version of me with no weed, my emotions are too much for him when I am sober. I am too much for me when I am sober.

I also thought to myself I could get back on my depression pills. I probably should be medicated in some way if I am not going to use weed. I took my anxiety pills as needed last round, but perhaps I need something more drastic.

Hysteria-

  1. exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement
  2. means ungovernable emotional excess

Full disclosure: that sounds like me -_-

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;

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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.

What are you doing? I don’t recognize you.

A look in the mirror and she’s the same in the face but older in the eyes. (read this Hey Arnold fanfiction I read that in, it is AMAZING)

between the shadow and the soul by ashleykay
Thursday was deep and hot and when she woke it was to sticky wet sheets and a feeling that the world had not changed.
Words: 5,912 Chapters: 2/5 Comments: 11 Kudos: 20 Bookmarks: 4 Hits: 317

Image result for i tried not to think but the silence was a killer too

Today I have hardly slept. That is nothing new. However, the activities I was engaged in this morning were truly astounding to me. Jake and I have been talking about building for our future. I astonished the hell out of myself by walking back onto that college campus, sight and reminder of my past failures.

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My first time around in college I regrettably slacked off. I wasted my time and their money. I couldn’t be bothered to do homework, and I slept through classes. I had to drop math 3 times because of the combination of those two problems. It took me forever to finally knock it out.

I lost focus while I was in school, preoccupied with my mother’s problems and my own woes and dating a stupid alcoholic. I dropped out of college with one class standing between me and my business degree. I just stopped going because the class was too hard, and I’d already taken the class once before. I was too proud to get tutoring, and I didn’t care enough to try so I just quit.

Four years later, and I was standing in the orange office again. My hands were trembling when I first noticed how nervous I felt. I had this sensation that someone was going to drop the bullshit smiles and look at me honestly and say, “Are you really sure about coming back? Looks like you weren’t too interested the first time.”

I don’t know how interested I am, but I still did it. I enrolled in classes to start in the Fall, or at least they are pending right now. At any rate, I started the goddamn process, and I am utterly stunned at myself. What are you doing, helping yourself? *shock of disbelief, I am so good at standing in my own way*

Visit postsecret.com for more inspiring messages, this one caught my attention.

I am surprised at myself because I am such a lazy person. I don’t know how I convinced myself to actually go and submit myself to the torture that is rising early for classes and actually applying my intelligence to something. Except I do know how, and it’s very disconcerting to me honestly.Image result for mexican baby cartoonI am interested in perusing a dietitian degree. I want to turn my life around. I have a window of about 3-5 years to birth healthy babies, and I want to make myself healthy enough to house a little one. I don’t want kids now, but I need to build the house for them for when they do come. I want to be healthier sooner.

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I look at myself in the mirror and I body-shame myself. I see my meaty arms and thighs and love handles and what I really see is cushy defeat and sorrow in all that fat. It’s like I’ve given up, but that’s not really so. I just have forgotten how to act like I care about myself.

I’ve spent so much time trying to numb myself to the things I’d rather not think about that I have robbed myself of true pleasure. I am always engaging in false pleasures, fleeting feelings. The feeling of not giving a fuck inevitably goes away until you smoke again. Smoke, or go crazy unable to escape your own thoughts.

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I have established a new school of discipline for myself. It’s actually pretty funny! Hubby and I have been obsessed with watching Gordon Ramsay and all his TV shows. Master Chef, Master Chef Junior, The F word, Kitchen Nightmares, Hotel Hell. Emulating Gordon Ramsay landed my husband a promotion at the hospital kitchen he works in.

Our respect for him is very obvious. I have watched him so much that now when I am sitting down to eat, I actually look at my meal and say to myself, “Gordon Ramsay wouldn’t want me to eat this.” I usually just ate robotically in the past until way past the point of full. Lately I have been limiting my portions and I have avoided splurging on things that I know are bad for me by constantly reminding myself of what he would say about my food choices.

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I haven’t taken care of myself because of ignorance. Now I am going to seek education and do better with it. I want to change my life and my motivations and be different than I am today. I want to give up the drugs and sedentary life style and be someone better. I guess I was so surprised because I actually took the first step today, instead of just thinking or talking about it. I don’t know if I can actually do it, accomplish getting up in the mornings and being more of a regular and responsible person, but I guess all I can do is try.

Addictions and What Like

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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.

Dear Daddy

I need a moment to mental pause my life. I’ve been  feeling more and more overwhelmed lately and unable to perform at work, at home, in Life in general. I had a four day rest from work, but it didn’t rejuvenate my batteries. I still feel quite ill at ease.

My dad is going back into the general populace someday soon, and the sooner the day looms the more upset I get. I am both glad he will be out and utterly dismayed. I dread having to face him- it’s uncomfortable to stand in front of a man who loves you, and sneer down your nose at him. Disdain. Unhappiness. Harbinger of chaos, you are my undoing. I loathe you, thank you for loving me, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I need you to step up and be better, climb out of the shit. Abandon your old skin and your old ways. Become someone new, a more improved version of yourself. Stop making me witness this train wreck we have now.