Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Reflection on a Bunch of Stuff Proving I am Miserable

Posted Date: : Jun 18, 2007 5:29 PM
I miss my dad. Things have been so crazy and I had pretty much boycotted the idea of Father's Day.

I was able to hang out with Brian all weekend and he kept me pretty distracted and busy. We did a lot of stuff. Sunday we went to Canobie Lake with Briana (his daughter) and had a good time. It wasn't until the end of the day when I was on the Carousel that I lost it completely. All I could see was my dad sitting on one of the sleds, not on the horses, his thick camera strap around his neck sitting all the way to the side with his arm across the back of the seat like he always did when I was younger. I just rode on my horse and I cried.

And then didn't stop crying for the rest of the night. I drove home and every song on the radio was all about him. "Butterfly Kisses", that cheesy wedding song killed me because of course the part where the father gives his daughter away at her wedding. Something I will never have. Then I changed the channel and "My Little Girl" was on by Tim McGraw. I just shut off the radio at that point and just drove and cried. It's not fair. He should be here, he should be able to be here and make everything OK. Because when he was here, even when everything was going to shit, he could make it OK somehow. He had ways of fixing everything. I finally turned the radio back on when I was closer to home and "What's Up" buy 4 Non Blond's was on, not that you'd think of that as a song to remind you of your dad normally, but for me it was. We went to Old Orchard Beach in Maine every summer my whole life, and he had a cassette single of that song and he would play it over and over the whole 2 1/2 hour drive pretty much up to Maine, and it was just so random. But I finally just cranked up that song and sang it through my tears.

Not a single person called me all weekend, except Courtney last night from the Stevie Nicks concert she took her mom to. She too boycotts Father's Day since her dad died 2 years ago. Not a single person thought to see if I was holding up OK, or if I was doing anything. Just Brian.

I was a mess Friday night because all that were on were Father's Day commercials. So Friday night I didn't watch TV. I watched a couple movies and then had like a 4 hour nervous breakdown that he sat through with me on the phone. He offered to have me spend the weekend with him and his daughter so I wouldn't be home all alone crying and being miserable, which I would have done since no one else called me or anything.

I went to the cemetery today. I couldn't go yesterday. I didn't have it in me. It would have been too hard. His grave is still not marked so it feels like he's anonymous or forgotten. And I hated it. I took care of that today though. Within a month his name will be on that stone and people will know he is there. He will finally be acknowledged. My mom thinks my uncle is going to get billed for it, but I paid for it. I don't care if I don't have the money. And it wasn't a cheap feat, but I HATED that there was nothing there. I felt so guilty, and I guess in a way that was my Father's Day gift to my dad.

It still hasn't gotten easier. Not even a little. Anyone who said that it would lied. I miss him so much and I just want to pick up the phone and hear him say "Is this you?" when he called me. I want him to say "Dylan my buddy!" in that sing-songy voice he always used. I want my Nextel to chirp every hour on the hour with him asking what Dylan is doing. I want to be able to go to him when I am upset, I want him to be there, to want to make things for Dylan, to want to go camping this summer with Dylan for the first time. I'll never have any of it again, and I HATE that Dylan won't get any of it at all. He does ask for him sometimes still, he will point to his picture and say "That's Papa, he's in heaven". Whether I believe in God or not is irrelevant in that case, no matter what I want him to know Papa is in heaven, that he is somewhere good, somewhere that I can believe he is, even if I am not sure myself.

Sometimes I think that maybe if I was religious, if I did believe more definitively that there was God or whatever. I don't know what to believe. I want to think that everyone's spirit is still with them, and with other people I can tell. I know when they are around, but I can't with my dad. I can't feel he's with me and I hate it. I hate that I can't dream about him. I hate that I can't do anything to feel like he's watching over me. After my accident people told me he must have been with me, but I didn't feel him there. I didn't see him. I just want to know that I am not crazy. I do believe in ghosts. I do believe that people's spirits live on after they are gone, I even believe in the Angelic-ness of them, I just don't pray. I don't ask a higher power to make things OK.

Maybe that's why my life sucks so bad. Why things always seem to happen to me. Why I can't seem to dig myself out of any hole I seem to get into. I just want to be happy. I just want things to work out OK. I don't want to be rich, I just want to get by without worrying what bill I can't afford to pay that month. I don't expect perfection. I just want happy. I always do for everyone else. I put the entire weight of everyone else's world on me. I don't even know I do it. I would give my last dime to someone who needed it more than I did. I would do anything for the people I care about, for my friends and family. I donate to charities even if I it's only a few cents here and there. I believe in SO much, and yet I don't feel like I have anyone who believes in me. I'm not saying that no one does, since I don't know that for sure, and I'm sure to some degree they do, but I don't feel it.

Everyone can say "You can do it" and play all the positive they want at me, all the reality checks, all the advice they want to throw at me. But I don't feel it. I don't even believe in me anymore, why should anyone else? Every goal, every aspiration I had for years ad years has vanished. Evaporated like a sick liquid in a horrible heat. I don't even remember things I once loved. My writing has gone to the wayside. Inspiration seems to have completely evaded me. All my energy is gone. All my vigor. I used to feel like I could move mountains someday, that I would make a difference somehow, even in the most minuscule way. Not anymore. Now I lose myself in the mundane.

I kill my braincells doing mindless survey's on Myspace to not have to think of anything that could possibly affect the long term. I don't have a plan. I don't have any idea of what comes next. I wouldn't even know where to begin. I could be surrounded my people and I still feel alone. I can play along with the best of them, but then I go home and I go back to my thoughts of nothing. I have no desire to do anything. I feel useless in most ways. I never felt this before. Even during the most upsetting things in my life I used to always pick myself up and dust myself off and say "Fuck you" to whatever was the culprit of my misery. What happened to me?

I keep telling myself as well as others that I am going to try out for American Idol. I do intend to. But I don't think I can. I don't think I will. I used to sing all the time, even in the shower, in the car. I know I can. I know I don't suck, but I still don't even have the gumption to try. And if I don't this year I will have missed the opportunity since I am at the age cut-off.

Scary that I am so close to my 10 year reunion and I have accomplished nothing. I haven't done a single thing in my life I thought I would have done by now. Thought I would have finished college; Nope. Thought I might be married by now; BIG nope. Thought I might be successful somewhat; Nope. I have been a retail slave and a single mom. The only thing I have done right is Dylan, even if how it all happened may have been screwed up. He is it. The only thing that is probably even keeping me here. What's the point otherwise? At least he is still too young to know that his mother is basically a loser. A 28 year old who barely gets by, who is miserable with most of her life, and who feels like she can't do anything.

Great role model I have turned out to be. Ironic since 10 years ago in high school I was chosen as a role model for middle school kids and one got to follow me around all day. But 10 years ago I guess I was more successful than now. I graduated, albeit from high school but I did it. I was the editor of the newspaper, I was writing all the time and people were reading it. I was a cheerleader, I was in other clubs. I worked 2 part time jobs, and I babysat. I had fun with my friends. I had dreams, I had thoughts of cone day conquering my small world. And now it is me that has gotten small and the world so much bigger that I am no more than a tiny spec in it's existence.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Street Cred....Blog Love from Other Bloggers

Street Cred....Blog Love from Other Bloggers