Memories
When I was 2, my parents got a divorce. My dad was/is a huge asshole and I was used as a pawn to "punish" to my Mom. Life sucked, but that's life after divorce as a child. Today on the way home from work, for some reason I remembered something from those days. It was the end of summer and my Mom had just dropped me off at my dad's after having spent all summer with her. I remember being so upset that she was leaving me there. Anyway, I had a walkman that I was listening to, and I remember going in the house and not talking to anyone because I missed my Mom so bad. I was listening to Tracey Chapman over and over because I knew my Mom liked her, and it made me feel closer to my Mom. I hate my dad for making me feel that way. Back then, I didn't really understand things. Now, I realize that because of his hate for my Mom, he really just hurt me. Although, now, since I'm grown, it's really hurting him. I haven't talked to him for 10 years and have no desire too anytime soon.
Today, I waded through 6 feet of bullshit at work. I came home home and headed straight for the liquor cabinet. Chris said he's never seen me do that before. That's because I've never really had to deal with as much bullshit as I'm dealing with right now. People suck. And why is it that people get in a work environment, and then lose their minds? Crazy shit.
I don't really have anything else to say right now. I'm currently going through iTunes and sorting through music I like and music I don't, and Im buying new music. I also have the urge to buy some really expensive jeans. I'm really trying hard to fight off the urge though.
1 Comments:
You know, writing about it is probably one of the best things you could do. I know from personal experience that scars like that will stay with you forever. The only thing you can change is your reaction to them, like when someone/something brings up those old childhood feelings (like the shit going on at work, e.g.). I'm not saying it's easy to change your reaction. It's just necessary for your own well-being, and it takes practice. I haven't read the rest of your blog, yet, so I don't know if you have a substance/alcohol abuse thing or not. If not, I wouldn't worry too much about that glass of liquor you had. It was a coping mechanism, and it's what you had on hand. But if I may offer more advice? Try to come up with different, healthier strategies to cope for the next time.
I really don't remember how many years my dad and I didn't speak. He had given me a false address (it was a vacant lot in Florida, the police said.) Then one day years later his second wife called my mother and said he had died. They had been living in San Antonio. My brother and sister and I went to the funeral. The only other people there were his second wife, a neighbor, and the military funeral detail. Sad, and he brought it on himself.
Peace to you, dear one.
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