I'm currently sitting here struggling to write an 8-10 page paper on my ethical model...and decision making.
How do you write "my father was a jackass that I strive to be absolutely nothing like" into a paper?
What words do you use to explain that your "ethical model" is very simply...being a better parent than he was, being a better person than he was, and not hurting people.
Really. It's that simple.
Don't. Hurt. People.
That sounds asinine. But the assignment is to explain your ethical model...and that's really all I can come up with.
Well that and "don't be an asshole."
So here's to hoping my professor has not only a sense of humor...but also appreciates my attitude for what it is worth. Because I haven't held back before now and I don't plan to start now.
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Monday, September 25, 2017
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Living in calm
This is going to be short and sweet.
Tonight I had coffee with a friend who needed someone to talk to. I think we all forget too quickly that there are so many other people out there that need a sounding board...and that are dealing with similar situations. It's nice to remember that we aren't alone. And I speak for myself as well when I say that.
Anyways...I didn't get home until after 8 pm. And when I did...
Dishes were done
Laundry was running
Floors were swept
One child was ready for bed
Homework was done
The house was calm.
It reminded me of the simple things...and how lucky I am to have the marriage partnership that I do. It's not about the big gestures...it's about being able to take time for myself and others...and not worry about my home or kids. It's about having a long day and coming home to peace.
I spent half of my life living in chaos...and I will never take that serenity (or the man behind it) for granted.
Tonight I had coffee with a friend who needed someone to talk to. I think we all forget too quickly that there are so many other people out there that need a sounding board...and that are dealing with similar situations. It's nice to remember that we aren't alone. And I speak for myself as well when I say that.
Anyways...I didn't get home until after 8 pm. And when I did...
Dishes were done
Laundry was running
Floors were swept
One child was ready for bed
Homework was done
The house was calm.
It reminded me of the simple things...and how lucky I am to have the marriage partnership that I do. It's not about the big gestures...it's about being able to take time for myself and others...and not worry about my home or kids. It's about having a long day and coming home to peace.
I spent half of my life living in chaos...and I will never take that serenity (or the man behind it) for granted.
Monday, September 18, 2017
The 18th of September
It's that stupid day again. The day of the year where no matter how great things are going in my life, and no matter how healed I feel..I suddenly revert back to a zombified idiot. I can't concentrate, I'm mad at the world for no logical reason and I just feel like the world is crashing down around me.
Now why is it that one day...the date of something...cause me to lose my mind? It doesn't make sense to a logical person. Nothing bad is happening today...no one is hurting me...but I feel like I've been punched in the gut. It happens every year. You think it would get better in time...everyone says it does at least. Yet here we are 5 years later and it still feels like it happened a matter of days ago.
Maybe it's because it's all at the forefront of my brain today, when on other days I am sometimes blessed enough to forget it all. Either way, I'm not a fan of the constant nagging reminder that this time 5 years ago...I could barely pull myself up off the floor.
Well let's be fair. I couldn't stop cooking or cleaning...and then I took off to an island for a week of vacation that I was barely conscious for.
Not exactly "healthy" coping mechanisms. Let alone things I could (or would) do now.
Real life conversation in my kitchen earlier:
Me- "I kinda want to go to the casino and make a lot of money. Simply so I can bet it on his birthday or something. That way...when I lose...I have another reason to be mad at him again."
...silence...
Me- "Is that unhealthy?"
Husband- "Yes..."
Here's the real deal. I don't have the answers. I am frustrated, I am still irrationally angry at my father, but I'm also remarkably hurt by the lost promises and the idea that I will never again get to talk to him. Then on the other hand...I still have no interest in talking to him, and I thank God daily that I no longer have to live in fear.
It's a strange thing living in fear. It's something that never leaves you. When it is that ingrained in your brain...and your body has spent 15 years watching every corner and every car that goes by...you don't really know how to turn it off.
I try to. But it sneaks up on me sometimes, and then leaves me reeling. I am relieved that I no longer have a logical fear associated with that panic moment. I am relieved that when I feel that way...I can honestly tell myself that he is gone, and has no ability to continuously terrorize me and the people that I love.
Then days like today hit. I find myself replaying the moments from hell over the years and getting angry. I am so pissed off that some man was able to put so many people through so much incredible pain. As a mother...I commend my mother for not burying the man in a shallow grave down by the river.
I digress. The man caused pain that can never truly heal...and for that I'm not sure I can ever really forgive him. He had no remorse for the things that he did or the lives that he ruined. He was so intensely mentally ill and addicted that he was a shell of a person. With no real feelings or thoughts that weren't controlled by substances.
So why do I miss him? Why do days like today hurt my heart, and why do the words "my father died" still make me nauseous? Why can I usually have a normal conversation about him and how the experiences shaped me for the better...but then on days like today I can't explain what the day is without tearing up?
It's September 20th. I guess you could call it my "dark day."
Now why is it that one day...the date of something...cause me to lose my mind? It doesn't make sense to a logical person. Nothing bad is happening today...no one is hurting me...but I feel like I've been punched in the gut. It happens every year. You think it would get better in time...everyone says it does at least. Yet here we are 5 years later and it still feels like it happened a matter of days ago.
Maybe it's because it's all at the forefront of my brain today, when on other days I am sometimes blessed enough to forget it all. Either way, I'm not a fan of the constant nagging reminder that this time 5 years ago...I could barely pull myself up off the floor.
Well let's be fair. I couldn't stop cooking or cleaning...and then I took off to an island for a week of vacation that I was barely conscious for.
Not exactly "healthy" coping mechanisms. Let alone things I could (or would) do now.
Real life conversation in my kitchen earlier:
Me- "I kinda want to go to the casino and make a lot of money. Simply so I can bet it on his birthday or something. That way...when I lose...I have another reason to be mad at him again."
...silence...
Me- "Is that unhealthy?"
Husband- "Yes..."
Here's the real deal. I don't have the answers. I am frustrated, I am still irrationally angry at my father, but I'm also remarkably hurt by the lost promises and the idea that I will never again get to talk to him. Then on the other hand...I still have no interest in talking to him, and I thank God daily that I no longer have to live in fear.
It's a strange thing living in fear. It's something that never leaves you. When it is that ingrained in your brain...and your body has spent 15 years watching every corner and every car that goes by...you don't really know how to turn it off.
I try to. But it sneaks up on me sometimes, and then leaves me reeling. I am relieved that I no longer have a logical fear associated with that panic moment. I am relieved that when I feel that way...I can honestly tell myself that he is gone, and has no ability to continuously terrorize me and the people that I love.
Then days like today hit. I find myself replaying the moments from hell over the years and getting angry. I am so pissed off that some man was able to put so many people through so much incredible pain. As a mother...I commend my mother for not burying the man in a shallow grave down by the river.
I digress. The man caused pain that can never truly heal...and for that I'm not sure I can ever really forgive him. He had no remorse for the things that he did or the lives that he ruined. He was so intensely mentally ill and addicted that he was a shell of a person. With no real feelings or thoughts that weren't controlled by substances.
So why do I miss him? Why do days like today hurt my heart, and why do the words "my father died" still make me nauseous? Why can I usually have a normal conversation about him and how the experiences shaped me for the better...but then on days like today I can't explain what the day is without tearing up?
It's September 20th. I guess you could call it my "dark day."
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