Tag Archive | Emotional Female

I Can’t Drink You Away….

This blog MIGHT be all over the place (kinda like my emotions right now) but I promise there is a central theme.

*******Avengers: Infinity War Spoilers********

We all said, nothing can ever be better than Black Panther. I THINK we were wrong. This movie is just….. So first off, FUCK THANOS. His entire existence just ruined my life. For a myriad of reasons. The last 20 mins of that movie are 1000000000 times worse than the Red Wedding episode of GOT.

But what has me awake at 4:30am like I don’t have shit to do in 3 hours, is the relationship between Thanos & Gamora.

He stole her, after he destroyed half of her planet’s inhabitants. He killed her mother, and told her it had to happen that way. He then trained her to be a deadly assassin who traveled the world killing for him. Because he’s an ASSHOLE.

Even though Gamora swore she hated him, when she *thought* she had actually killed him it tore her apart. Like broke her all the way down. Because even after all the abuse, and hate, and self-loathing, that was her FATHER. Every girl just wants a Daddy.

My life is in chaos right now. I reached out to my father, who has more than enough money to help me deal with this situation. It’s an unexpected life altering event, right as I took 2 months (unpaid) FMLA off to help my mom.

I knew he was going to say no. I knew it in my soul. I told my mom he was going to say no. He did. I wasn’t even shocked. I had already been working on another solution to the problem. He has never helped me out in a crisis. He has actually caused the last 2. And yet…..I asked. At 36, I still held an impossibly small piece of hope he would come through for me.

Because that’s what parents are supposed to fucking do – Help their children in times of need. That’s what our relationship was until I was around 12. The spoiled girl who was pampered and NEVER told no until she started gaining weight……she didn’t understand why the relationship just changed. It went from fun to weight control and walking 4 miles a day in the Arizona heat. I didn’t handle the transition well, because I wasn’t prepared for it.

My Hero. That’s who and what I used to think my father was. You couldn’t tell me shit bad about him. And due to his “strict religious and moral beliefs,” he would of course never lie to me or hurt me. Because that’s what the Bible says. But not the Good Reverend. That nigga worked 50 years to push his kids out the house at 18, and tell them to fend for themselves. Because that’s HIS moral obligation. Now, where this supposed code came from, I don’t know.

It took me way too long to understand this code of ethics even existed. [Partially due to my mother’s parenting style, because she’s the best mom ever] I was used to having a need, telling my primary parent at the moment, and getting what I needed. Some people called it spoiled…not sure why. Some part of me still felt, even after all the times he had disappointed me – if I can just explain why it’s so urgent that I need his help, he won’t say no then. I keep banging my head up against this emotional wall.

Always leaving a door open, or a window slightly cracked hoping he will be different this time. Because I never felt more loved and appreciated than when I used to go visit my father in Tucson and Pittsburgh. I still crave that….feeling. I write about wanting that all the time. Thanks to therapy, I know the root of that. But this blog isn’t REALLY about my daddy issues.

I know, insanity. The kid inside of me always feels so less than when dealing with him, because I’m still trying to get him to:

  • Acknowledge that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach 18.
  • HELP ME GOT DAMMIT

Back briefly to Avengers.

In order for Thanos to reach one of his final goals, he LITERALLY threw Gamora over a cliff, and killed her. I started crying right then. Because GOTDAMN! Gamora’s face as she was falling, throwing out her hands and hoping by some miracle he would save her in the last minutes…….

It was like seeing myself on screen. (This conclusion is why I’m still awake right now) Every time I call my father specifically for his help, I’m hanging off the cliff holding on for dear life. He reaches down, and lifts each finger off, while telling me something about budgeting for unexpected events.

That’s how I see my dad. I paid the mortgage on a house that was in his name for 4 years, for him to tell me if I didn’t let my DEADBEAT ASS SISTER move in (and pay no rent or contribute to the household….did I mention shes is 22 years older than me) he would sell the house, and I would be homeless. This was of course about a WEEK after I had a Grand Mal Seizure at the gym and dislocated my shoulder. And my mom was already staying there to help me recover FROM A FUCKING SEIZURE.

Did Thanos love Gamora, yes? But he – and by extension his agenda – was still more important to himself than his child. I just don’t understand how that is. I try really hard to look at everything from both sides. But my dad….

Seriously tho, Fuck that Nigga Thanos.

I just…. I can’t wait for the day when I can not have “daddy issues” flare ups. This shit is worse than herpes. I might be done tho…because exhausted. Also, I might have already said too much. I had to edit like 4 times before I could post this. Because feelings.

Fuck Thanos So Much

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Feelings are NOT Facts . . .

It’s that thing when you have so much you need to say, and you can’t think of a clever way to say it.  I try to make my blogs cute and funny, but also reflective fo my current or past struggles.  Sadly, I’m in a place right now when I FEEL like anything I would have to say is going to offend or hurt someone’s feelings. This is going to be a cacophony of thoughts.  Then, I’ll try to bring it all together at the end okay.  Lets Go . . .

1) I’m Flattered But . . .

Recently, a guy from my past popped up out of nowhere.  We went to the same church when we were younger.  Due to my perpetual status as on outsider, we didn’t have much interaction.  He was cute, but he didn’t talk to me, probably because I was the awkward fat girl.  For some reason, he’s intent on convincing me that I am the one person he needs to make his life better.  Except, he’s doing it all wrong!

If you have to beg me to pay attention to you, you aren’t worth my time. Conversely, I shouldn’t be worth yours. The minute a girl says to you, I’m not ready for a relationship, believe her!  My aversion to anything that looks like a relationship aside, why are you trying so hard? And who told you the way to a woman’s heart was begging? Like, thanks for paying attention to me 20 years later . . . but no thanks.

Underneath this new – more curvy, less chunky – figure I am the SAME awkward Fat Girl from the Teen Choir.  I haven’t changed at all.  I said when I started losing weight, the men who started paying attention to me {but didn’t give me the time of day when I was at my largest} would be the first men to get told off.  Because I don’t care what kind of society we live in . . .If you didn’t like me at my ‘worst’, Fuck you Very Much at my very Best.

2) I’m In Love with Another Man . . . 

First of all, let me just say Jazmine Sullivan took my WHOLE entire existence with this song when I first heard it 3+ years ago.  But the words are ringing true to me currently. What’s crazy is, I’m not in love with a specific person.  I’m in Love with an image.  It’s the image I’ve cultivated over the last few years of what/who I’m looking to spend the rest of my life with.

I’m in Love with my Best Friend.  I don’t even know if I could be attracted to someone I didn’t trust with all my secrets FIRST.  Sexual Attraction is such a great idea….But it’s not gonna keep me warm in the middle of the night.  It’s not going to buy me Hello Kitty accessories because they saw them while they were out. I’m looking for the guy who knows my mood based soley on the Spotify Playlist playing while I’m washing dishes.

The person you should end up with, in my very humble opinion, is the person you think about when bad shit happens.  It’s the first person you call when you need to cry (more on that later).  Its the person whose face you know would make you feel safe.  In all of my relationship travels, there have been very few people that I’ve thought had the potential to be that person for me. 

Of course, my track record with falling in love with my Best Friend hasn’t gone so well in the past . . .

 3) WE, are Never Ever, Ever, Getting Back Together . . . 

In the same vein . . . I’m really tired of people telling me how I should feel about my Ex.  I’ve decided I’m allowed to hate him whenever I want to.  I am allowed to love him whenever I want to. I am allowed to miss him whenever I want to.  I want to be able to say I don’t ever want to see him again, and that be okay.  The Happy I Felt when we were together is something I should say I want again in my life.  But I don’t want that.  Ever.  Because if you have it, you can lose it.

Losing it almost broke me.  Few people I was on the verge of Suicide when I moved back to Michigan. *Well, now everyone knows I guess* I left AZ because the stress of knowing he was so close and yet so far was getting to me.  Staying in AZ gave me a false sense of hope.  I’ve learned that Hope should only apply to Barack Obama and the Dreams of Suckers. {10pts if you get this movie reference}

I don’t want to EVER see him again.  I don’t want to hear his voice, or smell him, or listen to his favorite song. I don’t even like seeing pictures of him.  Because 1st, I remember the Happy.  But IMMEDIATELY after that, I remember the Sad.  And that Sad almost took me out.

See how my thoughts don’t make any sense.  Those three things I just posted, in complete conflict with each other.  But Wait, there’s more…

4) Being Honest Is Hard

I’ve stopped telling people stuff I think might hurt their feelings.  I’ve stopped making statements that might offend ‘outsiders.’ Now, I do have a circle of friends who accept everything that comes out of my mouth.  But . . . even amongst some of my “Close” Friends, I don’t say what I think.  I think being in social work has stunted my emotional freedom.

I used to ‘react’ quickly to things that offended me.  I used to stand up for myself when I felt slighted.  I don’t do that anymore either.  That could be the result of being told my feelings don’t matter.  It could be because my feelings are never validated, because they don’t go along with the desired emotional direction of “The Team.”  But whatever has caused this emotional retardation that has made me sensitive to everyone but me, it’s time out for that shit.

  5) Stop being a Baby

I cry too fucking much.  Like, I spent a SOLID 28 years, never crying.  We are talking maybe one ugly cry a year.  Since 2010, I swear I’ve cried on average 4 times a month.  Like, I cry watching tv shows.  I cry watching movies.  I cry listening to music.  I cry during phone conversations.  What the fuck is wrong with me?

Crying is for weak people, who can’t suck it up and deal with what life hands them. This crying all the damn time thing isn’t even something I would have ever thought I would go through.  *Boy, was that Psychic Wrong*  I still handle problems and get shit done.  But it’s fucking embarrassing.  Everyone shouldn’t see my tears.  They haven’t earned the right to see me this vulnerable. I’m starting to think I should have gone to therapy once I moved back to Michigan.  I might be in a better place emotionally.

So Yeah, that’s it for now.  I doubt this makes any sense.  I don’t really think it was meant to.  But I put it all out there, so that’s something right?