Father's Day...the epitome of all sucky holidays

Father’s Day…one of the days that I dread the most during the year. This year I wanted it to be different…and I didn’t want to spend the day feeling sorry for myself. After all, this year has been a year of new beginnings and trying to move on from the things that have happened in my life. Making positive changes and such. Saturday I spent the day with family at my cousin’s softball games, and then I spent the night with good friends celebrating my other half’s birthday. I was on a positivity kick. Then Sunday morning kicked in. I’m not sure if I was over tired, over stressed, or what exactly the issue was. But I was a crab ass. I went to more softball games in the morning, and then planned to spend the rest of the afternoon holed up in my room, doing laundry and packing for vacation.

                I got home around 11:30, and decided to lie down for a minute. My head was pounding and I was tired as heck. All of a sudden I woke up…at 5 in the evening. I woke up with a start because of the dream I had…and I felt like I was in a total fog. I was upset, irritated, and in even a worse mood than I had started the day in. Splendid. I had had a dream that I went to visit my father in jail…and it threw me off. Usually the dreams I have like that are horrible because they always end badly. They end with him attacking me, or they slip into a flashback of something that really did happen years ago. This dream was different…and left me wishing I’d had one of the bad dreams.

                The dream was nice. My mind went and created some alternate reality where when I went to visit my father, he was nothing but sweet and kind. He spent our visit telling me how proud he was of the woman I’d turned into, and how sorry he was for all of the bad times. He seemed to really see all that he had done…and seemed to honestly feel bad about it. I woke up missing him horribly…and wanting nothing more than to drive to Florida to see him. Thoughts flew through my head, maybe he could change…maybe he did see all the wrong he’d done…and maybe he was truly sorry. Of course reality set in, as it usually does…and smacked me in the face. My father will never change…because he doesn’t want to. I want that dad…that tells me I’m a good person, and is there to support me no matter what. I want the dad that people celebrate on Father’s Day. Unfortunately that’s never going to happen, and it’s yet another reality that I have to learn to accept.

                Sometimes I wonder if my dad did the best he could. It’s hard for me to figure out if he was trying…but just doing a terrible job. He’s so mentally ill that it’s very possible…he did all that he could for his children. It’s very possible that he just wasn’t capable of loving like a parent should. And that makes me sad. I don’t hate my father. I hate the things that he’s done, and I hate that he’s hurt so many people that mean so much to me. I hate that he’s hurt me the way he has. But I don’t hate him. I feel bad for him. It must be a very lonely life to not be able to love the way a person should.

                While I feel bad for him…it also makes me incredibly thankful. I’m thankful for the family that I do have, and all of the amazing father figures that I have in my life. Mostly I’m referring to my mom’s brothers and brother in law. My uncles are amazing men, that (even unintentionally) have gotten me through a lot. They’ve shown me what a real father should be, and have helped me create high standards for the person that I will one day have children with. I live with my aunt and uncle currently, and have at least a weekly check in with my uncle. He watches me make mistakes ALL the time, and never judges because of it. He gives advice, but doesn’t push. And I’m so thankful to have that in my life. I don’t talk to my other uncles all the time, but I know they’re there. They create such an amazing example for their own children, and it makes me happy to see what an amazing family I come from.

                Most of all though, I’m thankful for my mother. Father’s Day sucks…don’t get me wrong. But at the same time, I see it as a day to honor my mom. She was a mother and a father…even when she was going through hell herself. Sometimes I get caught up in thinking about what I could have easily become with a father that acted like mine did. And she didn’t let that happen. Even when I made stupid decisions and took the wrong path, she pulled me back into line. Am I perfect? Absolutely not. I’m in the middle of trying to recover from decisions I’ve made that threw me off track. But she didn’t let me become a statistic. I’m not just another “drug addict’s kid”. I’m a fighter, and I’m a lover.

                So Happy Father’s Day mom…even without my dad around…I’ve got everything I’ll ever need in a parent. These days are slowly getting easier to deal with…because I have you around. I don’t see you as much as I wish I could…but I hope you always know how thankful I am that you never gave up on me.

                I’ll post more soon I’m sure. But this has just been on my mind the past few days.

I'm back!!!

I know I haven’t posted in over a month. I work too much, I had my tonsils removed (which knocked me on my ass for weeks), and I’ve just been a little overwhelmed. At the same time, I’ve been truly enjoying my life for the first time in a long long time. I have fun whenever possible…just because I can. I’ve gone to the beach, I’ve gone to parks, I’ve spent hours just sitting on the patio talking and relaxing.

               You ready for really exciting news? I haven’t heard from a reporter since the last time I posted something. Not ONE. Not one phone call, not one email…nothing at all. Now when I say a reporter, I do NOT mean the people who have been doing stories on the blog. I appreciate those people, and I’m flattered that they think enough of it to want to publicize it. It makes me feel like all that has happened is worth it. The reporters I’m talking about are the ones who are down in Florida. They want the “dirt” and they want an entertaining story because they’re too lazy to broadcast about something worthwhile. They want the drama and the “excitement”. They…piss me off. More than I can say. People tell me to take the interviews with them strictly for publicity…but I can’t. The attention would be great to get the blog out…but I don’t want it under those pretenses. “Hey everyone tune into Channel 5 tonight to see the famous arsonist’s daughter get her personal life thrown in her face”. No thanks. I know how they can twist the things you say into what they WANTED you to say, and what will get the most viewers. But back to my point…it’s gotten better. There were weeks of my phone ringing off the hook, and on rare occasion, people showing up at my listed address just begging for a comment. (Trust me…they didn’t want me to comment).

                I’m getting back into my writing as soon as possible. May 3^rd was my dad’s birthday…and for the first time in years…I didn’t even think about it. It was nice. That sounds terrible…I forgot my father’s birthday. But…you have to understand my life experiences to understand why it was actually strangely liberating. Days like that typically haunt me…and it didn’t this time. It felt good to look back almost a week later and realize that I glazed over it without a problem. He’s very slowly losing his control over me…and I’m very slowly gaining that level of confidence that I’ve been missing.

                Found out something interesting today…after all this time of not checking the court website…the trial has been rescheduled. October 9^th of this year…only a year and 9 months after he got arrested. Ugh. It also happens to be the day before what should be my 5^th anniversary with my husband. Splendid. Sounds like such a blast of a week. On the plus side…hopefully by then the divorce will be finalized…and I will finally be getting closure in two big areas of my life.

                I have been so positive lately. I guess I always kind of have been…but there’s always been a deep dark side to me that people rarely saw. It’s not like that anymore. I am truly happy most of the time. I have hard days like any human being, but I get out of them quickly. I still get overwhelmed quickly, and I still panic on occasion. But it’s rare. Really rare. I can’t remember the last terrifying nightmare that woke me up, and I can’t remember the last time I had a full blown panic attack because of something that reminded me of him.

                I took a huge step the other night. Sunday night to be exact. This may sound minor to anyone who doesn’t know me…but in reality it was a giant leap. I went out on a boat. I’ll post more about the days on the boat another time, but know that it’s definitely coming. I grew up on the water. My father loved his boat more than anything…and we would spend EVERY day on it…until he finally had to take it in to get me home. We slept on it occasionally, we would take trips down both sides of the lake, we would waterski, tube, parasail…you name it. They were some of the hardest times of my life…but also a lot of the best memories I have with my dad. But I haven’t been out in years. The last few times I went out on the boat with him…I was 13-14, and it never ended well. His binges had become a lot worse at that point, and a lot of the trips ended up with him getting violent, or threatening to drown me (more on that later as well). They were some of the scariest days of my life, and the memories of his actions over those nights still catch me off guard sometimes.

                But back on track…I haven’t been back on a boat since one of the last times I saw my father in person. I’ve had offers…but I have not set foot on a boat in our area…and gone out on the lake. I haven’t gone down the channels and seen the restaurants on the river we would go to, the islands he would drop my friends and I off in to go run around, or the beaches he would pull the boat up to. Sunday night…I did. I got on a boat, and spent hours sitting in the middle of the lake. Jumping in the water, driving around, talking and just enjoying the night air…and the sound of the water. (Now the night didn’t end very well in other aspects…but it was all still a very large step for me).

                Best part…I didn’t get upset. It made me SMILE to think of the happy memories from years ago. Truly happy. No forced smiles, no hidden tears…just fond memories. I’m not sure if I’m forgiving…or if I’m just growing stronger as a person. But I would like to think it’s a little bit of both.

                I promise to write more…it felt good to get all that out J (PS- It started as a quick 3 paragraph update. Now who thought it was a good idea to give me a keyboard and internet access…?)