This Too Shall Pass....

....Like a kidney stone.


January 12th will be a year since Dad died.  (Of course, I'm still super pissed about not finding out until the 13th, but we'll not get on that little soap box right now.)  The thing is, it's my first Christmas without him being here. 

The first Christmas that I don't have to decide if I want to chance having interaction with him.

The first Christmas I don't have to feel guilty about not going to see him, or berating myself if I do and it goes badly.

It's the first Christmas where I truly feel like I don't have to put up with other "family" that I don't want to be around.  (I cannot stand the idea of putting on a fake front and playing nice with people that you really have no desire to be around. NOT the spirit and meaning behind Christmas, so why do we do that?)

Yes sir, for the most part, this has the makings of a new kind of weird Christmas.

Don't get me wrong, I miss Dad.  It's weird knowing that it's over, he's gone, there's no "maybe tomorrow".  He'll never see all my kids graduate.  He'll never have great grandkids.  It's just done. 

Fini

The one thing I have gained from all this is that I've been shown the true colors of others and freed from any guilt I may have felt from not doing my part to keep in closer touch with them.  Hallmark, and everyone else cashing in on the holidays, tells us that holidays are a time for family and mending fences and blah blah blah. It's all sunshine and happiness.

Bullshit.

It's awkward situations filled with people who are glancing furtively at their watches to see if they've stayed long enough to be able to make an acceptable escape.

It's people who are wishing they were having a lobotomy without sedation, instead of being cooped up in the stuffy house with people that grate on them like 80 grit toilet paper.

It's people feeling stressed out beyond belief and dying to run as far and as fast as they can.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

Yes, I can hear you saying "because it's the right thing to do" or "because it means so much to (insert relative here)" .  Or my favorite "I do it to try to keep the peace".

At what point was the huge responsibility of being Peace Keeper set upon your shoulders?  Are you the Wyatt Earp of the holidays? 

Is it acceptable for you to have the stress and anxiety piled on you, while you work, often without true success, to keep the entire mess from falling into chaos?

I think not.

The holidays are indeed meant to be a happy time that we share with people we care about the most.  A time to be thankful for the good things in our lives.

It's not a time to wish Rolaids came in a Pez dispenser because you're popping them in rapid fire succession on the way to Grandma's. 

It's not supposed to be a time that you hope you can get just enough of a happy buzz going before that doorbell rings, so you can float your way through the inevitable conflict that is threatening to break the surface at any moment.

And that relative you dread the most?  You know the one.  The one who puts on airs and a fake front, but swears no one can see through him? The one who thinks that everyone is in awe of him and just so amazed by what a righteous, glorified, perfect person he is?  The one who has inflated his own self worth to ridiculous, unrealistic levels? 

You know the one I mean.  The one that has his exit followed by a sigh of relief by the whole group.

Why would you let this relative ruin a perfectly good holiday?  Just simply don't allow it.  It really is that easy.

My holiday plans this year are simple.  Spend time with those who I want to be around.   I'll be spending the day with The Linebacker and the BF.

I may not get to see my Grandma's on Christmas, but that's ok, I'll catch up with them after Christmas, when we have time to actually sit and enjoy some time together, without the chaos and tension, and without the time restrictions when you factor in driving to several different places.

There's nothing wrong with spending the holidays the way YOU choose to spend them.  I'm very thankful for the friends and family that I share my life with, no matter the distance between us.  And for those that I choose not to include in my life, well, I'm thankful that I don't have to pretend that the situation is something different than what it is.

Merry Christmas to those that mean so much to me and mine.

The rest? 

Happy trails to you....

I Could If I Wanted To

I deal with things through sarcasm for many reasons, not the least of which, is that I have found it to be much cheaper than bail.  It also keeps my sanity, at least somewhat, intact.

What I have to watch is the tendency to say things that I mean.  I recognize that I have the unfailing ability to go for the jugular, and that I have no problems doing so.  When I've reached my tolerance level for stupidity or bullshit, or if I feel suddenly on the defensive, I am prone to pull all the stops and rip you to shreds, smiling all the while.  I will go straight for that one weak spot that I see in you and I will attack.  No regrets.

But, in the interest of not being a complete bitch, I try to temper it....at least a little. 

After growing with a narcissistic father, who had a myriad of crutches, I have a whole bunch of screwed up tendencies.  I waver from insecure to not giving a shit.  I bounce from wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to help everyone I meet, to shutting the emotional light switch off completely.

All through school, I was pretty shy and tried to please everyone.  I kept a low profile and tried to just float along quietly, because I thought that was easier.  As I reached my Junior and Senior year, I realized that no matter HOW I behaved, it wasn't going to be right, so I started waiting for the chance to be me.  I even lived in a foster home for a short time during my Junior year because I refused to go home.  I was starting to get just a hint of a backbone.  Dad gave me a big sob story (and I felt bad that Mom was stuck in the middle of all this) and I went home, but I think he started to see that I would only take so much.  Two days after graduation I moved out. I let my guard down and started to discover me, little by little.  Mostly, I was searching for acceptance because I'd never been good enough in my father's eyes, or so I thought.  And I knew, deep down (WAY deep down), that I was so much better than what he seemed to think I was.  My mind would tell me I wasn't, but somehow I knew better.

My shyness and refusal to rock the boat turned into a mix of "I'll play nice as long as you do".  I would try to keep the peace, but found myself only allowing people to push me so far.  I had finally learned to draw a line....and stand by it!  It was scary as hell and freeing at the same time! 

Sometimes that damned line is a little wavy, and sometimes I almost forget to protect it, but I work at it even now.

I also realized that the narcissism, drug & alcohol use was not an acceptable excuse for being a prick.  I tried for 34 years to figure out what it was that he wanted from me. 

Here's the thing.....it's not that I wasn't good enough.  Much of the problem was that HIS demons (from being raised with an abusive narcissist) kept telling him HE wasn't good enough.  His own narcissism, mixed with being a child in a long line of narcissists, made our lives a living hell at times.  The whole reason Dad volunteered to join the Army and headed off to Vietnam was because he wanted to die.  No joke.  The man ran from demons the entire time I knew him.  He wanted to be a gunner because he knew they had a very short life expectancy.  Instead, he worked as an X-ray Tech in a MASH unit, where he dealt with horrors that he only talked to me about once.  I can't begin to imagine what it would've been like.  The sounds, the smells, the carnage.  And after serving your country, for two tours, only to come home and be labeled a Baby Killer?  Again, he couldn't do anything right, just like when he was growing up. 

Sometimes I feel myself almost wanting to release narcissistic tendencies.  Then I realize, that I'm not a true narcissist because I empathize with those around me.  I truly feel other peoples pain and wish I could fix it.

But, there IS a part of me that whispers how much easier it would be to just admit that no one else does it right, or that I should be the center of their world, or some other inane bullshit.  In the next breath, that same voice whispers that I'm not worthy to be the center of anyone's world, or that I'm the one who is wrong.

Both of those voices can kiss my ass!  I'm not perfect, but I am pretty damned amazing.  I'm loyal to a fault.  I'm honest (also to a fault usually).  I'm smart, funny and a whole lot of fun to be with.  What I'm not is a pushover or a doormat.  At least, not as much as I used to be. 

I'm still working on all of it, and am slowly making new discoveries about myself. 

I'm not perfect, but I could do anything if I wanted to.

Just because

I write to appease the demons. They being angst, insecurity and frustration.

I write to free the mind. It is often convoluted and chaotic.

I write to soothe the soul. It being hungry for something nameless and just out of reach.

I write for me.

Rooooo-Duh!

Why is it when we are minding our own business, bothering no one, happily living our own lives, that people suddenly pop up in the background and start drama?

They pour out of the woodwork like cockroaches. 

They gather in droves.  Chirping like crickets to each other, silencing their banter when we approach, only to resume when we continue on our way.

Why are these same people the ones who never seem to come straight to you with whatever their apparent grievance is?  They instead choose to huddle together, chirping about some real or imagined wrong doing on your part.

Have you people nothing better to do?

Do you lack the fortitude to look directly at someone and discuss the issue?

Are you so spineless that it's easier to tell only bits and pieces to those that you feel will back you? 

Do you thrive on a cheering section of ill informed parrots?

Are you so gutless that you can't take charge and get to the root of the issue on your own? 

Is your life so boring that you must create drama and strife for others?

Are you so unhappy with your place in life that you feel you  must drag others down, thereby making yourself feel better about the piss poor choices you've made?

That has to be a sad, empty way to live.  I can't imagine letting such a large amount of negative energy eat at me like that.  I can't begin to imagine how lonely and bitter you are inside.  How the drama has eaten away at anything good that was inside you. 

Sure, you might put a good front on for some people, but all it takes is a small step back to see the real picture.

I used to think you were an amazing, strong person, but I see that you really are all the things that people told me you were.  And, apparently, you are so much more than even they warned me about. 

I spoke nothing but kind things about you.  You held a place in my heart and I thought of you as a friend.  I would've moved mountains, one pebble at a time, if that's what you needed. 

Now that you've finally shown your true colors, I'm glad the day never came that I stuck my neck out for you.  Surely I would've been beheaded for a  worthless cause.

I'm not mad, not even hurt, I'm actually filled with pity.  I can't imagine how sad and pathetic you must be when you think no one is looking.  I pray I never find out.

As I walk away, thankful that you have shown who you really are, all I can say to you is this:

"Quit being a shit stirring little dick. It's just rude."

You Are A Pain In My....

I've been a moody bitch for the last two days, and about 3AM this morning, the migraine started creeping in.  My major trigger is stress, though I do get headaches because of weather changes sometimes too.  This, however, is definitely a stress migraine and it seems to be here to stay.

With the upcoming court date for Dad's estate on Thursday, it's not hard for me to imagine why this torture has taken root in my head.  I just wish it would go the hell away!

I've become very adept at stuffing things away and ignoring them, usually to save what's left of my sanity, but when the stress finally builds too high, it takes a toll.  The auras, nausea and cold sweats just SUCK!

I need this to all be over so I can sweep up the shrapnel and move on with things. This is a door that needs to close....soon.  Permanently.

Once this circus of greed is closed I can go back to functioning as a normal, slightly dysfunctional, person. 

We'll see whether or not all the promises of making things right will come to pass.  I doubt it.  I'll be shocked if people actually stand up and do the right thing, but I suppose stranger things have happened. 

I mean, some people actually thought Napoleon Dynamite was a funny movie, so I guess you just never know what might happen.

I Hear You Knockin' But You Can't Come In

Honestly, I won't even hear you knock after this door closes.

It's been a looooong year already and we're only 2/3 of the way through it.  Dad died January 12th this year and hopefully on September 12th, the estate will finally be settled.  I'm ready to move on and be done with all of it.  What was already a very painful situation should not have been made more painful, but it was.  Typical.

What is it about a death that brings to surface the true paranoia and greed of people?  Why does the focus shift so damned quickly from what you've just lost to what you think you are going to gain?  What the hell people?

There are so many parts to this whole situation that are just wrong.  Starting with not even being called until THE NEXT DAY!  Why you wouldn't call his daughter immediately is beyond me.  I don't care what you perceive the relationship to be, you CALL.  Someone should call!  IMMEDIATELY!

Ok, yes, I'm more than a little pissed off about that. Still.

It's just stupid!  Were you hiding something?  Trying to get your ducks in a row?  What?  What the hell were you thinking!?

There is no legit reason for not calling.  None.

As you can see, it started off just freakin' fabulous and has only gotten worse from there. 

I  miss Dad.  As much as he pissed me off, and as many times as we butted heads, and for all the shit he put us through....I miss my Dad.  I'm pissed at him for leaving behind yet another mess.  For leaving a million questions and more drama.  I'm pissed at him for dying and making me deal with such a pack of vultures.  I'm pissed at him for making me feel hurt, sad and pissed.  I'm pissed that the people that are supposed to be there for you during all this are the ones that I can't wait to be done with.  Dad would be pissed if he saw what was going on. 

If it hadn't been for Mom and The Linebacker over these last several months, I don't know what I would've done.  Yes, the BF has been supportive, but it's different because he's not part of "that" circle.  He doesn't have the ties to the situation that the rest of us share. 

In six more days I will be closing that last door for the final time, if there is any mercy in this world at all.  And when that door finally closes, I'm going to padlock, chain, glue, nail and permanently seal it up!  It's like the Pandora's Box of bullshit and I'm going to make damned sure it stays closed. 

It's not a positive situation so I'm going to walk away.  Scratch that.  I'm going to run like the hounds of hell themselves are chasing me and I'm wearing brown gravy perfume.  I'm out like a scout on a new route, Jack!

People forgot that the focus was supposed to be on Dad and who he was, good and bad, not what he had.  It's supposed to be emotional, spiritual, mental...not material.

What the hell is wrong with people?  No, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with them?

Atta boy!

There have been many times that I've been proud of each of my kids.  Last night, The Linebacker outdid himself and I'm so very proud of the person he's becoming.

He played two football games last night, and even though he was hot, tired and sore, he gave his all.  For every minute, of every game, he played with everything he had.  Not only did he demonstrate good sportsmanship, he demonstrated a helluva lot of heart!

He played for the 7th grade team, which is short a couple players now due to injuries.  He started out playing defense for them, but about halfway into the game an offensive player got hurt so he took that position too.  By the time that game was over, The Linebacker had already racked up a lot of field time, but he headed off to meet his team mates on the 8th grade team. 

The 8th graders were on fire and shut the other team out, 28-0.  They played HARD through all  four quarters.

By the end of the night, Wyatt had racked up 3 really nice tackles and some assists. For no bigger than he is, that kid can hit like a freight train. 

Am I proud of his performance last night?  Of course, I am!  I'm crazy proud of how he played.  But what I'm most proud of is the attitude he showed.  He gave everything he had for both teams.  He didn't look at playing for the younger team as an inconvenience or act as if  it wasn't "his" team so it didn't matter.  He put the good of the teams ahead of himself, and I couldn't be more proud of that. 

He's not the star of the team, he's not the least talented player, but he's a good solid player that tries hard and is dependable.  That's a good place to be, if you ask me.

If he hadn't made one single play, I wouldn't be any less proud of him than I am right now.  He was a true team player, and put a large number of others ahead of himself.  I'm so thankful for that.

It's nice to know that in this world of instant gratification and downright selfishness, there's at least one young person who understands what it is to gain by giving.  That person is my kid.

Yeah, that's my boy!