Pathetic

There is a point in every relationship where you decide that you are safe enough to be honest. Honest about who you are what you are afraid of and what your dreams really are. I think that for the majority of my life people didn't take me seriously. Around the age of 16 I made a plan, it was clear, solid and did not leave room for many things. When dad died I clung even tighter to this plan. It was my shield against the world, the way I was going to survive. Then I got pregnant, of course it was not part of the plan. In fact it was the one thing that truly meant I would have to be close to someone again. Close enough to allow myself to be hurt, close enough to truly love another soul. I was terrified.
Letting myself love another person meant that it could happen all over again, and I might not pull through it. In the end life has a way of forcing us to love again to live even if we don't want to. Recently this fear of having children and ruining their lives and the terror of actually being part of the world (as opposed to just existing in it) was brought up again. Recently it was regurgitated back at me with partial accuracy as to what I said, and none of what I felt. I have been labeled pathetic.
Interestingly enough I will not argue. My survival ability has not been ruined, my spirit is unbroken. On the contrary! I will take your pathetic comment in stride. Currently I seem to be beyond anger, hurt, or despair. I guess maybe I am pathetic, but there is an upside. I've always believed that if you do not like who you are, decide what you'd rather be and make the changes. Life is not easy and we all get lost thank you for showing me what I have done wrong and the changes that I need to make in order to be a better person.

Drowing and sleeping

Night time is the worst for me. The quiet and the dark loosen ones imagination. Since I was young I haven't slept well, or kept regular hours. Maybe I could blame insomnia or the strange hours my mother tends to keep. Either way it doesn't really matter what the cause is.
I lay awake at night thinking, worrying... whatever. Tonight I am missing my dad so much it hurts. I spend the night clinging to what I do remember wishing I'd taken care to remember every tiny detail of every moment I ever spent with him. Of course after that I remind myself I was only a kid, I seemed so young then. Not that I'm old now... seriously I'm not old ok. It really kills me I was so stupid to take it for granted. What terrific fools young girls make.
If by chance I escape my relentless torturous regret, then the dreams come. I am certain I'm not the only one who has realistic dreams, but this knowledge does little to comfort me when I wake. Vivid images, tastes, smells, everything seems real. The other night it was my fingertips bleeding full of glass no matter how much I pulled out, there was still more. I love to dream, when the dreams are not like that! Most people would classify this particular dream as a nightmare, but again I'm not like that. Besides my nightmares carry with them uncontrollable fear even upon waking. Fear to live or breathe and most definitely fear to fall asleep again. One time a fear that became all to real. I had known there was something inherently different about that dream. The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach never went away. You know the feeling that usually leaves as you return to consciousness, and truly realize the horror that unfolded was not real. I swallowed this fear for almost a month before it actually happened. An entire month I lived hoping it was only a childish fear of a silly dream. I knew. When he actually did die, so did I. I knew. I knew and I did nothing, I could do nothing. That's what I tell myself to survive, to keep afloat from one day to the next.
If you're drowning but not down yet, just keeping your head above water, you're alive but you aren't really living are you? So in my attempt to return from drowning I tell myself there is nothing I could have done to save such a wonderful man, to keep the center of my world breathing. For a year I saw him everywhere. In the Land Cruiser at the Maverik, speeding past me on the freeway, everywhere I do there I am and so was he. After the "sightings" stopped I started to miss them and I found myself sleeping every spare second hoping for a dream of him. When that didn't work I started drinking and avoided sleeping altogether. Here we are again, afraid to sleep but trying desperately, hoping for one more moment with my father. Dying to die, ha. Sorry bad joke, what will I say when I do see him again? Another bad joke "I was just dying to see you daddy!" Until then I will just have to be satisfied and learn to live with the rest of the world, sleeping or not here I come.
Just one more thank you to the one who saved me from drowning in the first place. I am forever in your debt and I am sorry for ever being so cruel to you. I was a child and that is no excuse. Thank you for keeping me safe even from myself.

Catch 22 perhaps?

I find myself wondering what it is about me that makes it so hard to understand what I want. Many times I've been told a person can tell exactly what I'm thinking by the look on my face. Now in the middle of the night I am confused. Recently I've begun to very clearly state the things I need both emotionally and physically. This seems to be working terribly. It's horrific! Perhaps it's because now that I've come right out and said it and still been denied it, it seems a slap in the face. On the other hand no one likes a person who appears needy, as I must with so plainly expressing myself. It is a catch 22 I suppose. Everyone asks what it is I want and need, they just really don't want to hear it.

As is such, it seems, with holiday plans as well. Everybody asks politely what you would like to do, listens calmly and proceeds to tell you what they expect you to do. All this with complete disregard to your plans and wishes. Lovely time of year this is and again what a hot little Scrooge I make.

Oh alright I'll finish with my whine fest. Just let me say this family is great. Your loved ones will always be your greatest asset and you should cherish them with all your heart.

I miss my daddy, obvious given the time of year and such, but it seems more that I miss the person I thought I could be because he believed in me.

All the little shattered moments in life may never all fit together in what you thought would be the "big picture". Don't cling to those shards, don't depend on them so much that you lose sight of where you wanted them to take you. If you do all you end up with are bleeding hands and the pain of losing who you are and who you want to be.