12/3/11 WHAT THE FUCK DO MEN WANT?/10

Seriously ?  Dating men is really no easier than woman I don’t know what I thought I remembered.  I take some responsibility and have to remember to think sometimes rather than react or respond from gut which I like and feel comfortable doing. I have to “breathe” pause and evaluate the situation and ask more questions ask the brave questions to get the answers which leave no room for assumptions and if I don’t I have no one to blame but myself for it. So in part I’m not entirely mad at him I’m irritated with myself as well because I know better and I am capable of more. It’s been a precarious few weeks since our break up transitioning to friends was interesting, I mean since K, you would think I would be an expert but going from lovers to BFF is a strange path.

In actuality I had been denying something, denying that my feelings wouldn’t get in the way. It’s different to break up with someone you still like romantically but you know they can’t deliver on what you need and want so you cut your losses and figure ok we can at least be friends cause I like you and you like me and you make me laugh.  The problem is the expectations change and you (I) remain sensitive to the your (our) interactions until those feelings dissipate, you meet someone new or they piss you off. My remedy is well,  I got pissed off, that was my ready set go to spring into friendship.

Throughout our time well at the beginning there was no doubt in my mind he was looking for something more along the lines of a relationship, it was a short time but he was hard core, with what he said, how he felt , the flirting the planning, I mean he wanted to spend Thanksgiving  night pampering ourselves at a hotel in the city-that’s a “we have been dating for a while” activity to me. He asked about religion, if I wanted kids and made a list of all the things he liked about me including the “I believe she would be a kind and caring step parent”. Now come on I couldn’t have to read into this, who fabricates this kind of stuff. Someone wanting to laid or someone having strong feelings for someone? Or both?

I took it hook line and sinker thinking “wow amazing a man who doesn’t play games, a man who lays it all out there, a man I do not need mind reading skills to date. Enter Thanksgiving night by now I had felt him pulling away the small simple things of the everyday set your watch like clockwork never late never forgets “good morning sweetie, honey, baby, blah blah text” the “miss yous” the “hey gorgeous”  and  more direct “your hot” “ I want you” “ best kisser ever” texts. Oh yes ladies these were given multiple times on a daily basis and there was no reason for me to think they were fake and I don’t know that I think that now but when it suddenly chills out you have to wonder.

I have read from some “relationship expert” this is what men do, they back off they pull back, for various reasons and that this is natural and the response that woman have to is to be more available and bend over backwards to maintain the “what once was”-and that’s exactly what I did, therefore according to the experts becoming less appealing because I was no longer mysterious.

I had this discussion with another smart beautiful successful woman, “Gabriela why do I do this?, why do we do this? Why do we then check our phones? Jesus I have a life and pretty great one so why is time stopping for a text?”  The only conclusion I can draw is because we all want to be loved and appreciated, that’s a pretty good reason to act a fool but unfortunately some relationships do not recover from such mistakes.  So even though I asked “is everything ok?, are you mad at me?” that did not trigger him to reveal more about what he was thinking and feeling. According to the expert this is the “hallmark error” woman make.

It wasn’t until after Thanksgiving night when I felt some distance between us in actual real time rather than over text that I got brave and asked more specific questions.  The next day I asked him to be honest and confronted him about his feelings changing and he responded, well kinda.  “I guess I’m a little, well a lot guarded these days and I have a hard time getting into and staying in a serious relationship. It sucks I know, you are a wonderful person but we might be on different timetables as afar as relationships go”.

Different time table?  Now this could be interpreted in a number of ways:

1)I’m in the process of trying to end a 12 year marriage and fighting for custody so my priorities lady are somewhere else  aka  I like you but bad timing

2) I liked you a lot and now that we slept together I still like you but I’m not chasing you as I was before and frankly that’s what I like

3) I’m really only available for something light and easy a kinda FWB situation because I can’t even imagine getting into something serious right now

4) It’s time for me to sow my wild outs and spread my seed I’m free for the first time in 12 years well almost free and I need to explore that.

5) Thanks we are done but you’re awesome, high five babes

What I chose to interpret it as was “I can’t give you what you want because I’m not ready and I’m not in any position to get serious with anyone” with a dash of “I want something light, easy and unattached” this allowed him to still look favorable in my eyes and not at fault of anything and probably stroked my ego too.

So with that interpretation in mind I broke up with him. I first told him all the wonderful things about him that I adored and liked and then I offered my friendship. He said nice things back and accepted my friendship. Easy peasy right? Eh not so much, we talked about hanging out as friends and did once the day after I broke up with him where he proceeded to get faced and I became the babysitter (this shoulda been my first second or third warning) but noooo I gave more I drove him home, I took care of him, I cooked him breakfast, I told him I worried about him and he passed out on the toilet for about an hour. He did finally come out when I said I was leaving and hugged me and thanked me and then tried to kiss me but I didn’t kiss him back. I hugged him and left.

I have no idea, most woman would have run for the hills and considered him too damaged to like or love or date. I liked that he put all of his baggage up front, the divorce , the custody, the lawyers, the depression he has struggled with and goes to therapy for weekly, the medication he takes to control the depression, the ex, the back and forth between the homes. All of that, I accepted him where he was at, for who he was, a lesson learned from my last relationship but doing that does not a bond create.

We had an interesting conversation about what he wanted or more so he kept asking me WHAT I THOUGHT he wanted and I just always said I had no idea and that I had been wrong on all accounts so I threw the question back at him which he never answered he only told me what his therapist thought:  that he was unable of accepting outside validation and was trying to replace the whole his mom had left with him. Seems cliché doesn’t it? I mean we can only blame our parents for our problems for so long before we take over and do something about it. I’m not trying to judge him only reflecting on my path with my mother.  He was slippery when I tried to pin him down on if he thought his therapist was right or what it was that he was looking for. As I have communicated more and more with him I notice he hides, he never answers those questions or acknowledges those comments that he feels uncomfortable addressing. I thought I was good using humor to deflect vulnerability he is an expert and he becomes a hard of hearing, visually impaired mute. I know another read flag that he doesn’t get serious (he admits) and maybe isn’t emotionally ready for some things.

I guess that is how he feels, I don’t know, I just know that he ignores those questions/texts but comments on the text right before it and right after it, conveniently.  I have put him on the hot seat before and go back and grill grill grill reasking the question till he answers but I neither have the time, patience or energy to do so. I did it for a year and a half with K when I dated her.

I had romantic feelings for him probably up until last night when this conversation took place and I thought “what are you doing? Why are you holding on to feelings for this guy”

Last night we were texting and he was complaining about Match.com as we do and I said “don’t worry you’ll find your friend with benefits tomorrow”  “I don’t want a FWB why do you say that? “  “cause it seems liked that from many of our conversations, interactions and comments in fact it was the reason I thought we should stop seeing each other because that’s what I thought you wanted”.  My assumptions were obviously wrong but then he made no attempt to clarify or communicate what indeed he was looking for. For some reason this made me mad, he has been pushing me to give a younger guy a chance and encouraging a FWB situation for me and I was letting that influence me and perhaps convince me to accept something less that what I wanted. Ultimately it is my choice and I can hardly blame him nor can I say he manipulated me but I let myself get caught up in that and adjusted for a guy-stupid.  I’m learning I’ve gone from one end of the spectrum to another. Never compromising or giving in to someone else’s needs to being overly accommodating.  So as with everything in life it is a readjustment and a learning process and this morning I woke up with a whole other attitude and I was really feeling myself today –got dressed up and walked with a spring in my step today with a I’m funny and darnit people like me attitude. Bottom line is I have much to learn and a lot of room to grow but I accept myself where I am at. The fact is with all that I have been through the past 2 years I’m more open that I have ever been and putting myself and my heart out there I realize well at times it just won’t work out as I hoped, I’ve only learned that I control far less than I thought in the past and my commitment is only to follow my karmic destiny or hero’s journey or whatever the new age phrase of the day it.  I’m in.

Update 12/31/11

We have actually transitioned to friends spent time together hanging out even on Xmas night and exchanging gifts. We talk the next morning he sits and drinks coffee I challenge his caveman ideas about relationships and woman and we talk about everything and anything. We laugh, we questions, we challenge, we ponder, we share about why we are the way we are, we reveal a little bit about ourselves as friends do when they trust each other and are building a friendship. He confide my fears although he already knows most of them and vice versa. We talk about our dates we bitch about our families. We support each other and remind each other that it’s ok to be him and ok to me and we are in our respective places /stages in life for a reason and we learn each and every day. I get mad at him sometimes and he apologizes, I get on my soapbox and he tells me I’m nuts but it works.  At first when I saw how much he drank I worried and thought I met him to be in his life as a friend but I needed a friend like him just as much. I am grateful we are here and while I figure out what life holds for me from here on out I have someone who can really relate.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12.1.11 Ready or Not Here I Come/9

Hmmmm well just when you think you have a firm grasp on something it slowly and quietly begins to unravel from your hands.  The reason you held it so tight in the first place is because as it gets away from you it becomes messy.  Messy, hard to control, hard to compartmentalize, distance yourself or worse yet protect yourself from. This is what December is for me. All the clichés of people sad around the holidays, all the statistics we hear about suicides, divorces, family violence…Merry Fucking Christmas right?

The little hole in my heart is from losing my best friend 2 years ago and being so blind with grief that I did not even see, experience, acknowledge, process or so much as sniff, lick or suck the grief. I mean it was non existent but yet so present and obvious in my face, my life.  It weighed me down like some suit that’s too big for you.

2 years ago my brother died but even that is so fucked up because the truth of the matter was we decided to take him off of the life support he was on that was keeping him alive.  I got a call from my sister asking me what I wanted to do. My mother wanted to have everyone’s input before removing him from the machines that were keeping him alive.  So everyone was already there at the hospital except me so basically I was like the 12 juror deciding my brothers fate, fucked up huh? I even remember saying “What? so I’m making the call my vote is the deciding factor? This isn’t god damn Survivor.”    “No No it’s not like that, mom just wanted everyone to be ok with it and be able to say for themselves.”  I was quiet for a moment then blurted out a string of question in one breath ” What are the chances of him recovering? What did the doctors say? How long has he been breathing assisted? Are there any signs of brain activity?”  “What about?”  “What if ?” “How come ?”

Her answers grazed over my head, they flew by at first but slowly suspended themselves  in air waiting to be popped like balloons.  “If that’s what is best maybe we should do this for him, he might not ever be the same” he would have hated that. The truth of the matter is my brother was never the same after being diagnosed with diabetes and as his illness got worse he died a little with each rush to the hospital and with each near miss of falling into a diabetic coma.  Every time I was called in the middle of the night to come to the hospital because they thought this was it and he might not come back, I died a little too.  The person who was my constant friend, defender, protector, comic relief, musical sherpa, world guru was slipping away, slipping through my fingers with each hospitalization.

I snap back to the conversation with my sister my arm is tired from holding the phone that feels heavy and I feel like I have sitting like this for hours.

“Yeah ok do it” I whispered.  “Do you want us to wait for you?” “Are you coming?”   “NO, no I don’t want to see that, I don’t want to see him like this, it’s not him, not my brother, why the fuck is she asking me this? what the fuck???”

It probably seems completely strange that I wasn’t there at the hospital with my family waiting for my brother to die but to me it seems completely fucked up to be there waiting with my family for my brother to die.  I loved him more than anyone else in my family and he was the one leaving, if it were another family member and he was there waiting I would have gone but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it because my immediate family were the last people I wanted to be with, their madness, shitty ass attitudes, greed, anger and pettiness was something my brother and I loathed. There was a reason why he and I kept our distance from the rest of our family and maintained a relationship outside of my mother’s house, cause they are nuts.

This pissed almost my entire family off including my brother in-laws but it was my choice and my decision to not be there but it doesn’t mean I loved him less and that I wasn’t pained by the loss.  My sister and her husband had everyone back at their house for dinner they were the only ones who talked to me well and my nieces their two daughters. The tension was enough to choke on with each bite of bread while we ate dinner. I could feel how angry and disapproving my mother was about me not coming but honestly I think she thought I should have been there for her. That looney toon has a way of stealing the thunder and attention from even a someone dead or dying. I already witnessed this at my Dads wake.

When everyone cleared out only I remained sitting at my sisters kitchen table and that’s when her and my brother-in-law told me how they felt about me not showing up. I appreciated that they had the balls, respect and integrity to say it directly to me and I told them I understood but it was my choice to make and for my reasons I made the choice I did and while I respected and understood how they felt to fuckin bad I decide what is best for me.

A week ago it started, the restlessness is that what comes first, it’s like I’m on idle waiting to take off any second but I never do so it feels like a permanent nervous stomach.  Each morning around 2 or 3 I lay in bed wide awake tears streaming from my eyes, mind racing completely still in the dark. The tears just pour, they keep coming streaking from the sides of my eyes into my hair and eventually to my pillow sometimes when I get up there is a weird cry halo but it sorta looks more like wet mickey mouse ears cause it’s really just two puddles on each side of my head.

I’m tired from the lack of sleep, I look worn, I look harsh but I move through my day hiding so I think. My students know it, they see it, they are extra gentle to me on these days, they stop and ask me how I am in a different way from their usual causal “hows it goin Ms. A?”. When they ask these days it’s quiet and there is a pause and sometimes a nod a like “I see your pain, I know your sad, sorry try not to be”  its the weirdest phenomena but it’s true it happens, they have an extra sense that in adults gets dulled, they are connected directly to your heart.  They seem to always know when you are not you, most of the time they don’t want to know why but they stop and they become a little mini caretaker for just a few seconds by the time you realize what they have done they have already walked away.

Sat December 3rd is my brother’s birthday he would have been 53, exactly 1o years older than me I think I’ll start holding my breath now.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

11.29.11 When you call you ex a cunt say it like you mean it/8

Hmm so here I sit in on my bed writing this and going back and forth on match.com with some ass who just told me to take a hike cause I wouldn’t give him my number after 2 emails. I’m sitting in my room avoiding my ex, up until literally 4 days ago we were exes no longer in love, transitioned to friends with a really healthy and honest love and respect for each other.  Now getting here was like slicing your nipple off slowly with a rust nailclipper but I recently thought “we’re here and I’m really proud of us”.

Insert needle scratching across the record here…..LOUDLY.  It all started Sat night when she returned from St Louis where she is from it seemed like literally over the course of a few days of her being gone someone set our clock back 6 months where it was constant screaming, fighting, defensiveness, distrust and pain. Welcome back misery cause it seems you have been lonely.

Things happened so quickly and escalated before I knew what was happening the pinnacle of our arguement being her telling me that I needed to run it by her first before having the guy I was dating over for dinner.  Bitch please.

” I don’t want some strange dude all over our house, didn’t you think you should ask me? run it by me first? find out if I was ok with it? ”  What the fuck is she saying? is she telling me I can pay ALL the bills covering her ass and half the rent and not have someone over??    “How do you think I feel knowing there was some guy in our house on the couch that was our couch that we used to lay on and in the bed that used to be our bed?”  Insert louder needle scratching across the record….. Uh that isn’t our bed it’s my bed and it’s none of your buisness who I have in it.  From there on out the conversation goes down hill she accuses me of “poking at her and judging her”   I accuse her of being the shittiest friend in the world because she is blowing me off for 3 events/plans we had in Decemeber .  “Things are different now because I have Alicia” she says.  I’m thinking the only thing different is that suddenly you are nuts again being uber bitch and being reactive to anything and everything that comes out of my mouth.

After hours of arguing she admits it to some degree however it is always followed up with a “BUT YOU……”  now that’s  language one uses in an attempt to resolve matters right?   I’m not innocent I don’t think I poke at her but I certainly speak my mind and it drives her literally insane she wishes she could stop me, she wishes the things I said didn’t have a grain of truth but they do and probably why they piss her off.  B ut I’m not your mother that isn’t my issue it’s yours maybe you need to go back to therapy but when you compare me to your mother that is not our current reality.   This makes her mad really mad. She tells me how much she “doesn’t like me” and I feel like I am arguing with one of the preschoolers when they get mad because I have made them go to circle time only when they scream and whine “I don’t like you anymore” I say “but I still like you”.    Half of me wanted to condesendingly say this to my ex but the truth is I don’t really like her not like this.  In the end I am exhausted, crying, in shock and frustration I text F the guy I just broke up with that I am now friends with …..” kill me now”  he responds immediately  offers his support “come meet me out and tell me about it”……for a moment it is although he has literally swooped in on white horse and rescused me not from her but from myself and what I might normally do -keep arguing.

I leave my house at 1am in the morning and meet him out at a bar, he is well on his way to getting trashed and wants me to catch up. We drink, we talk, we drink, we talk , we drink, we laugh, we drink , we tease each other. I pour him out of the bar into my car strangely enough I’m not drunk, buzzed but its like those moments when you pace yourself so you’re not as fucked up as you should be but it doesn’t matter too much he lives one block down from the bar. 4am and I get him out of the car and we go up to his apartment he goes straight into the bathroom and I make him eggs. I make him a plate I open him up a diet coke and get him some water. I check on him several times but he won’t or can’t come out of the bathroom no matter how much I call or knock.

When I yell from the front room I’m leaving he comes out.  He hugs me goodbye I tell him I cooked for him and he thanks me. I tell him to please please not drink that much especially when he is by himself, I tell him I worry about him and he thanks me and says he knows it’s not good. It makes my heartache literally to see someone who has so much to offer seem so sad. I don’t know if it’s sadness but when you get that fucked up it seems like sadness.  I tell him the same things the next day via text I tell him that he or we need to find alternate activities rather than olympic drinking when he has Sunday off and doesn’t have his girls.  He agrees I ask him to promise me and he tells me he hates to break promises so he only tells me that he will try.

Sunday I get home around 5 am plan to get up by 9 and go to the pub to watch a soccer game with friends and my niece, that never happens. I’m dead ass tired but still muster the strength to fight with my ex and text back and forth with F while I do it.  As she goes to leave which she always does I say  Can I ask you something?  she stops and looks at me pissed off and with disdain and I ask……. Why do yo have to be such a little cunt?………………………… I’m so filled with contempt for her it doesn’t even bother me that I said that, I mean it, I mean it like she’s the cuntiest, cunt fucker cunthead in the world I mean in the cuntworld.

I mean it when I said it. I’m angry, I’m frustrated, I’m hurt, I’m confused, I’m let down, I feel like the trust I had in what I thought our friendship was has been betrayed and I still don’t know why.  Was it cause I had F over and yes we laid on the couch that used to be our couch?

I’ve lived here 5 years,  part of that time with an fiancee well before I met her.   On that couch “our couch” as she puts it I have been a very bad girl with several guys, it was MY COUCH, I bought it, I fucked on it, I slept on it, I cried on it, I ate my dinner sitting on it, I watched my TV sitting on it.  My couch and all the same things with MY BED.  Yes I did lay and eat and watch movies on that couch with F Thanksgiving night we fooled around a little on it before moving to MY BED where we performed various sex acts on each other till almost the moment he had to leave to go home and pick up his kids.

In that moment she was a cunt to me. Later when she came back and when we talked and she brought it up I realized I felt bad probably in some part for calling her that because I knew out of all the words I could pick that one would cut the deepest. More so I felt like shit for turning into the kind of person that does that.  I don’t think she could see it because I hide my true feelings well but my heart, spirit and soul felt flushed with shame. I felt like I sold out, I felt like some faliure in my quest to be a good, kind loving person.  It was a low note for me, a very low note,  to think that a person who I loved so much once in my life, that I would talk to so terribly.  I hate that feeling- it sticks with you all day the only escape is sleep.  When I called her a cunt I meant it I really did, I was mad, after that when I wasn’t mad anymore I just felt mean. Mean people suck.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

11.24.11 Men vs Woman/7

 Happy Fucking Thanksgiving. Yes the day we hack apart a carcass and serve it up to loved ones….yum. Having turned vegetarian my day consists of sides (ultimately better) and snacking although I have made a tofurky or some sort of other vegetarian roast to compete with the headless bird on the table.

Meat vs substitute. Was that what I was doing that year and half dating K? Just substituting a woman for a role I normally had with a man? Hard to say if I did, I had no idea on any conscious level but from an outsider yes it looks like a quick list of “you were never gay” you just played on our side of the playground awhile. With some lesbians this could get your ass kicked.  God forbid if you even think you might be bisexual then everyone thinks your greedy and just hogging up all the sides for youself cause you can’t decide if you want turkey or not.

I had an eye opening introduction to the gay community . I thought I was so down with it all, you know surrouding myself with lovely handsome, fun, caddy, well dressed gay men as friends. Lesbos are totally different, in fact I didn’t realize that often gay guys and hardcore non fem lezzies tend to not mix. Who knew. I had these discussions with a new friend Meg she lived most of her life as hetero thinking something was wrong with her, that she wasn’t a sexual person or might just go through life feeling “eh” about the current guy she was dating no matter how great they were. Then suddenly she started connecting the dots and found herself.  She is indeed a sexual being when touched by the right sex. GO MEG!  We had great discussions us both having lived a predomindately hetro life and now finding our gay (hers was a true discovery), we talked about how such a marginalized group then turns around and discriminates against their own kind, the labels, the catagories, the judgements.

I look back and no I don’t think I was ever really gay but people needed to catagorize me, they needed to be able to understand it in terms they were familiar with. I was less concerned of being identified as gay, I didn’t feel compelled to jump out of a closet of oppression, it just wasn’t my life, wasn’t my experience as a young adult. For this too I was judged-to really BE gay you must have had to go through that horrible torturous time of discovering your identity as an adolecent and I clearly did not. So yeah I went along with being called gay or a lesbian or whatever because I think it made other people feel comfortable including my partner. I just knew that I at that time in my life, I kissed a girl, and I liked it, simple as that I had no past to figure out, no “a ha” moment, no pain and identity issues from my childhood and no feeling of rejection because I prefered the same gender.  To real gays sometimes not having these experiences is not fair but everyone has their own path.

So fast forward to current time 11.24.11 I have been seeing/dating/fucking/whatevering a guy for the last month. He is funny, weird in a good way, unfiltered to say the least, and in some ways a beautiful mess himself. After our first date we decided to pretty much throw all our cards on the table. He is currently separated going through his second divorce fighting for custody of his two young daughters which they adopted. He has a son in his early twenties from his first marriage when he was very young. At times under the recommendation of his lawyer sleeps in his old house because it might force his ex to resolve matters more quickly if she has to deal with his presence in her space. He has an apartment down the street from his house where his ex lives and his kids go back and forth, he has a bedroom for his oldest son who stays there sometimes and then sometimes at his girlfriends. He’s a caretaker and a half, I like that, I admire that, I respect that.

So fine I think I’ll see your two exs, three kids, two divorces, and raise you with losing my dad, dog and brother all in the same year, putting my dog down because she badly bit the person I was dating resulting in hospitalization, and the person I was dating is the person I currently still live with….YES it’s true I live with my ex, oh and by the way SHE’S A GIRL. Let me know if you have any questions.

More or less that was the text I sent and then I waited holding my breath. The reaction was unexpected he was cool with it, asking great questions, trying to get a feel for what the full picture was.  Holy shit! I thought. After working through some of my details he followed up by telling me one more thing, one thing he says he doesn’t share until the 3rd date but what the hell we are pulling everything out of the closet so he figures let it rip. He tells me he suffers from full blown depression and gets treatment regularly and takes medication for it.

Damn he wins…..I snap back to reality and start firing questions. It is formally diagnosed? Do you ever go off your meds? What’s it like?

He answers everything I ask honestly and openly. I don’t know that this news scared me but I recall for a moment what it was like when K was going through her depression and it was hard, challenging and at times heartbreaking for me for many reasons but I don’t feel compelled to run away or jump ship or slowly stop texting away into obscurity until I officially delete his number.

From the get go I knew he was in therapy he talks about it openly and I thought well shit, good for you, everyone needs therapy been there done that several times it’s the fool who runs from his problems rather than tackles them head on (that was my ex) and not only do I think that’s great, well fuck, it turns me on.  Not the therapy part but the part that he is brave enough to do the work, do the digging and face the music so to speak.

Now what was the chance a person on his second divorce, fighting for custody, dealing with depression, in therapy, who sometimes lives back at his house to pressure his ex to negotiate would meet and ex lesbian still living with her ex (happily), after suffering from intense grief from losing her Dad and her brother and never dealt with it till a year later when she was dumped by her ex shortly after the anniversary of her brothers death and Xmas?

Come On!!! you can’t make this shit up. So I think we both figured fuck it let’s go with it and here I am negotiating my way back in the hetro world recalling why I struggled with dating in the first place. HA!

I over analyze, I over think and for as verbal and confrontational as I am there are just some feelings that you have to pry out of me, he sees this, he saw it almost instantly and told me I had trust issues. Yep he is right I certainly do, he linked them to my mom, yep they certainly are, he linked my strength, lack of need for approval and outspokeness to Dad, yep yep yep.

Whoa I thought it took K a year and a half to realize or see these things in me or herself and then the thought of actually talking about it out loud fucked her up royally.  I’m not trying to diminish her path, she has a quiet strength but dating a bull in a china shop like me pushed her over the edge.

So here I sit thinking what, why, how, when, where about this new guy. Will we be in each others lives long term, short term, as friends, lovers, in a relationship, semi relationship, weird undefined something. Ups and down, misunderstandings, miscommunication, stress from all the shit he is dealing with and going through will impact us and what we do or do not become.  I don’t think, no let me correct myself I’ve never sat in a position like this before with so much unknown before me and so much I cannot control.  THIS IS TOTALLY NOT ME! the only time I’ve experienced it was in travel when I was brave enough to throw all caution to the wind.

I would have never been in a situation like this 5 years ago everything that has happened in my life has brought me where I am at right now which is exactly where I need to be with the person I am supposed to be there with. Funny how life bring you that without fail-K came into my life when I needed someone most and much of what I learned in our failures prepares me for my next journey.

What do I want? sides? turkey? a substitute? a past, a present? a future? Guess time will tell but I’m enjoying him and the experiences we are having and to a small degree, a very small degree some of the uncertainty of it all.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12/31/10 Therapy Friend or Foe?/5

4:34 am Can’t sleep been going through a lot over the past couple days, months and years. Most recently the end of a relationship that I love dearly with the person I cherish the most. Introspection, improvement and change seem to always come as the result of a struggle, a mistake, pain. I wonder why it can’t be the other way around? Why can’t when you are floating on the air in love, happy, high and fulfilled simultaneously know –I’m fucked up as a result of bullshit in my past, it works it’s way out in my life by me being controlling, cold at times, holding people at bay when I need to let them in, critical of myself and others, and being confrontational, all driven by an underlying fear that I was led to believe I wasn’t worth loving.Therapy is basically shit, painful, hard, soul stomping, heart ripping and one of the most simultaneously abusive inprisonments and liberations at the same time. I say these things because I’ve had a different experiences some easier than others some more difficult but my most recent being the hardest. When I broke up a long term relationship while in my mid 30′s to a man that I was engaged to I sought out therapy to clear my head. When we broke up I wasn’t and didn’t still love him very different from my current split. I wanted to examine patterns in my life that came from my childhood, family and life experiences that may have contributed to the end of that relationship and that would help me in future ones. My therapist was good, very cognitive and a good match for me. He especially knew a lot about family dynamics and I soon realized most of our conversation revolved around that. There were times not many but yes times when I got emotional but not often, it didn’t hurt so much to uncover things like it did this last time.I read once that therapy isn’t therapy if it doesn’t change the brain. Right now my brain is in a state of transformation like one of those make over shows where they grab some woman off the street that has a family, a successful job and a normal life but walks around dressed like she’s homeless. They drag her off to improve on the basics of her, to bring out her strengths, to highlight her advantages, good points and natural beauty. My brain has gotten a new wardrobe.Since K and I have been in the process of this split I have had to rely on friends, I just haven’t had another option. I have spent the last few days crying, sobbing, telling our story to my friends. This would have never happened in the past because I never let others see that side of me, I was never vulnerable with people, I never reached out, asked for help, or leaned on others. People got this impression I’m fine, got it all together, capable of anything, self sufficient, perfect in a way. People generally came to me during those times of crisis to sob or ask for advice or just to have me listen.I was always interested by that idea, I would often hear people say with relief “oh well I’m glad you finally made a mistake or Jeeze it’s nice to know you can’t do everything.” I think when they knew me and eventually I made a mistake or revealed a weakness of mine they found a human component to me and it was although they were suprised. When I was working on a Master’s Degree one of the last instructors we had was hard in every respect but she also brought us together as group like our previous one had not. We all learned a great deal about ourselves and at the end of the term performed an exercise where we left a blank page at our seats and everyone walked around leaving anonymous comments about each other. The one that jumped off the page at me was “it was nice to see your softer side.” Really? Wow, I was begining to see how others perceived me.

I have great friends who know me well and can and have told me things like “you can be intimidating, you’re hard to help at times, you come off really strong.” So these notions are not new to me and in my workplace they have always been qualities that got the job done, made me successful and good at what I do but in a relationship they doom me to fail.

I was always ready for a battle, always, because that’s what I learned-defend, defend, defend, go down fighting. The wonderful person I share my life with isn’t trying to get one over me, she isn’t trying to control me, she doesn’t need to be right so I have to be wrong, she just wanted to love me and I blew it. If I only knew then what I know now.

When in that kind of relationship where someone is always is made to feel like they are wrong  all the time someone else is always right, people get damaged. I held on to that need to be right because that is what I have learned and done my whole life, I thought it was what made me strong, better, capable but it weakened me in such a profound way.

They say we try to “work out” our parent issues in our relationships and sometimes we pick partners subconsiously to do this. I was working out or living out my parent issues but with a person who was nothing like my mother and only wanted to love me. Over the last couple of days I have literally had an emotional growth spurt facing that notion that the constant message I received while growing up was in some way or another a reminder that I wasn’t worth loving. It’s funny because I started to realize why I never let people in and ended many relationships abruptly. I got so overwhelmed emotionally when people offered me such love and kindness during the passing of my father and brother, I didn’t feel I deserved it.

I cried at those moments when people gave so openly and treated me with such heartfelt emotion not because I was sad about my circumstance but because I was so touched and overwhelmed that someone was saying “I’m sorry you are in pain, I care for you and I’m here for you” people were trying to take care of me and I had no idea how to let them. I never had someone do that, I never let someone do that.

Ding!! the bell had finally rung for me I sat with K on the chair yesterday telling her all this, explaining and giving examples of how this filtered out in my life, in our life. I noted my inability to let someone do something for me without doing something back for them, to thank them for helping me or simply for doing their job. It’s weird.

She cried with me as I painfully connected these dots out loud in real time with her, she hugged me and told me I was worth caring for just because I was me. All of this made sense, all of this came together, all of the sudden I was like I need to let people just love me and let them in and love them back, but when I said this to K she cried and said “that’s all I ever wanted, that’s all I ever tried to do, that’s what I have been begging you to let me do all along.”

I wanted to her to try with me, this new me, this me that would finally let her in fully, this new me that didn’t have to hold on to being defensive or in control because she was no longer in that life, no longer a teenager battling that daily, but it was too late. I had hurt her so much she was too afraid to let me show her something different in our relationship, she was afraid to open up. The scar that has left in my heart will be something I carry to the grave with me. I feel such regret, such shame, such sorrow for treating the person I love the most in the world in a way that caused pain.

Her future sister in law wasn’t home for the holidays so we skyed with her. She has had a strained relationship with her father for sometime now and was talking about it when we were all visiting with her online. I wondered as I was listening to her while I was holding back tears  how is it that she isn’t so hardened and damaged that she has pushed away or damaged her relationships due to how her Dad treated her? I felt flushed with shame and embarassment that I had let my issues hurt us and instead of learning to open my heart more to the gift of my girlfriend’s love I hurt it. I suddenly felt guilty, I felt terrible about myself and I wanted more than anything to love K back and give her the relationship she deserved and was looking for.

Last night we spent a good part of our time talking about this and I finally realized she isn’t coming back. She has work to do on herself she has pain to heal from and she has questions to answer on how and why she let herself get lost in our relationship. She has to find out more about losing her voice as a small child because she thought she had to, she thought she had to be a pleaser and never be a burden for fear that her mother would leave like her father did. She carried this notion on into our relationship put me on a pedastel and put me first. She commented at how much her mother and I are alike and how much she needs to please us both but in our relationship it was at price of losing her. In therapy our therapist asked, “M don’t you want a partner that stands up for themselves or says no to you sometimes and I said yes” K heard that but she is still working on it. I never wanted to be over her or more powerful I wanted to stand side by side with her. She gave me that position and never equalized herself with me and with my strong personality and her being so hard on herself if she ever made mistakes it was a hurtful combination.

I realized last night that is more than just trying to tell her or convince her-you watch it will be different, look at me, look what I learned, look what I know, Oh my god, I get it, I get it now, I totally understand what you wanted and needed and were trying to have with me and now I can totally give that to you and I now know deep down inside it was always what I also needed and wanted for my whole life forever I have been waiting for you, for this gift.

I realized that after my egocentric moment of revelation that even though she loves me so much even right now, even though she says she has no idea if it is the right decision for us to break up, even though she has wrestled with the idea of coming back to me that she cannot. I understand that she has a process that she must also go through, she has questions she needs answers to for herself, she has healing to do from pain our relationship has caused and pain that she needs to break up with me. She carries a heavy heart and is so sad, so sad that we are in this spot, so sad that she has to leave, so sad that she can’t trust me, open back up and try the new versions of us that our therapy has given us. So sad that I offered this just now when she had been waiting for it from me for so long.

I told her I love her and I accept where she is and what she needs to do for herself. I understand we will not be fixed and jolly and in love and together again next week trying things again and doing it right but I told her if she ever thought after getting her answers and working through her hurt, if there was a chance she could ever try again I would wait, I would wait for her, I would wait for as long as it take because for me there is no other person, there is no other love of my life, there is no other her.

We try to figure out what this will look like we toy with the crazy idea that she can go on living here and we can evolutionize to a friendship . She doesn’t want to leave her home, her familiar place, her life and what she’s known. Although it would be hard I would make the effort to be there for her as friend and share this space, our home so that she didn’t need to go through all that happens when you move out on top of trying to heal. I offered the extra room and talked about various scenarios of if or how this would work. It’s a incomprehensible idea to anyone reading this and she asked if that wouldn’t be too hard for me, but I would do it, I would do it for her it’s the least I could give her. Since we have never taken the traditional role this would be up to us, our rules, our relationship redefinition, we would lay the foundation for this if this is how we decided to work through our breakup. I hope it can be done I would go through any struggles and hardship and pain on my part to give her that.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12/31/10 Why the fuck does someone blog all at once/4

If you have read my previous posts you see right now I am at a crossroads. I am at the brink of losing the person I love most, I have had repeated traumas that I did not successfully process or deal with and on the 30th of this month I will be reminded that my brother died and left me with the assholes in my family.

My brother was so damn cool, I worshipped him. He was my protector, my playmate, my mentor, my parent, my friend, my teacher. I was in every essence of the words “Tony’s little sister”.  He was popular and well liked and where ever he went those doors parted for me like the red sea when they knew who I was. He was always in my corner, taught me to question, be strong, debate (in a healthy way) and to never never let my fears keep me from doing anything.

K and I took a break at Thanksgiving to “reset” and start again when she returned things were going really well. God I remembered how beautiful she was in the absolute pure sense of her heart and her person. I felt in love again, I felt loved, I felt a connection that had been eluding us for a while. I felt like we were on our way, working our way back. Then December started and I completely fell apart and the pain and grief and anger about losing Tony scorched and spilled all over my beautiful girl and our happy attempts to rebuild.

December 3rd was his birthday I was begining to feel the pain, the sadness the desperation of realizing he is gone. For a year I buried this, distracted by the anger toward my family who swooped down like vultures once again as they did after my father’s death. Stress, pain, rained down on our loving attempts to care for each other. The following weekend for the first time I visited his grave, I did not go the day of the funeral I delivered the eulogy and left after the mass. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t watch my brother be lowered into a hole in the ground the finality of that makes me sick to my stomach even now. I also wasn’t there when he was taken off of life support I couldn’t do it perhaps for my own selfish reasons of fear and pain but also because my family is incapable of offering each other support in a healthy way and I didn’t feel safe being in a vulnerable place with them.

When my dad had been ill and in the hospital security had to be called to remove one of my siblings who got into a screaming fight with another one of my siblings. All this while my dad was in ICU. Each of them screaming “you leave, no you leave.”  At my funeral home after the arrangements were made for my brother the all familiar process of faking decisions that were already premade by my mother, two of my sisters got in a screaming match about my brother’s money. Ending with my brother in law dragging away one sister, me putting my mom in car as another sister screamed “get a fucking lawyer.”  This funeral home must love us.

For the first time in a year it came spilling out, I fought with K then locked myself in the bathroom and on my hands and knees sobbed, releasing noises like a wounded animal, something non human, tears streamed from my eyes, snot and drool dripped onto the floor as I tugged and pulled at the bathroom mat. I comforted myself against the cold bathroom cabinets burying my face in the corner as I gasped for air between sobs. Whispering Why? Why? Why did you leave me? Why did you give up? I miss you, I love you, I need you, Why?  For a moment I would stop long enough to whisper I fucking hate you for leaving me with these people, I hate you for giving up and not getting yourself well I hate you for leaving me with our crazy family. When I said this I kicked and kicked and kicked the garbage can in the bathroom I kicked that weaved basket to a pulp. My third mantra that I repeated was I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you in the end, I’m sorry you couldn’t hear my voice, I’m sorry that I left you with the crazies of our family with barely a lovable person to sooth you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I let you down. This went on for nearly an hour the next victim of my anger was the towl rack, I ripped it off the wall and smashed it against the counter over and over till it resembled a 60 degree angle.

When I came out I was in such a fucked up spot and wanted K or anybody to take away this pain. When she couldn’t to do that for me I misdirected my anger and pain at her.  Now, she mentioned today that this was not the root of our troubles or downfall we have been struggling before and that led us to counseling, but for me, now in this moment I see the impact it had on my girl and she went from that beautiful pure open soul to scared, sad, protection mode again and all her fears resurfaced and we were back to square one and knocked off the positive track we had been on.

What am I learning? patience, trust and how to let go enough so that she can have what she needs even though in this moment it is so hard for me to step back. I’m so grateful I have so many loving people who in the course of all this trauma have been there for me. I am blessed to be so loved, cared for and understood. I am blessed to be able to share my pain without fear for the first time, I am blessed to hear words of encouragement during such a low time in my life, I am blessed to for the first time show my vulnerability to people who love me, or perhaps even strangers who read this, I am blessed to accept help from those offering it. Even though I’m so scared and don’t know our future she has blessed me with her presence and I accept that in whatever form it comes in my life.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

11/24/11 5 months of healing plus 5 months of living again/6

Who would have thought I would be here finally moving forward in life and………..these were the words I typed 5 months ago and I now return to complete the setences almost 5 months later. The original date that those first words were typed were May 24 2011 today is November 24 2011. I have been having trouble sleeping, I know why, I’m afraid of next month.  Next Sat is my brother’s birthday I will visit his grave and the anniversary date of his death will come and pass again. Last December while my relationship was ending the flood gates open and I finally let our the grief of losing my brother. I can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, I feel anxious, anxious about how I will feel and what it will be like to go through December actually feeling something rather than numbing myself and ignoring grief that was pushing its way to the surface.  I find myself in a very different place finally after many fights, yelling matches, tears and frustating conversations K and I find ourselves over each other to the point where we have moved on, become friends, remained roommates and begun dating. Fucking nuts I know.

I couldn’t imagine this day would come but I fantasized about it, our therapist used to tell us about a woman she dated that she then remained roommates and friends with afterward.  We wanted that, perhaps naively but we wanted that. Well maybe I wanted that, K wanted it also but her motivation came from fear of being alone and dealing with depression that’s why she stayed. Perhaps early on I also had my own ulterior motives, I thought we would get back together.

It’s weird but I have never tended to follow a straight line figuratively and literally in this case for mapping out my life.  If I am honest, really honest with myself, I was always still interested in men while with Kari but I also really did love her, her person.  I wasn’t attracted to her because she was a woman it was because of who she was.  So my natural attraction to men was still there, I just wasn’t in love with one. I still flirted, I still communicated with old acquaintances and boyfriends and was dangerously close to crossing a line than I should have been, since I was in a commited relationship.  That should have been a sign, but at that time I was in the habit of ignoring signs and prone to getting lost for those  2 years of my life.

Funny that we should both arrive to a place where we are dating other people. Funny that I am in a place where I am dating men and realizing that is indeed my preference.  They are vastly different, night and day but yet relationships are relationships and those hold similarities. Lesbians jump all in ready or not here I come, your my soulmate, get the UHAUL, let’s adopt more babies then Brad and Angelina. Guys are so not like that, there is a fine dance that over time gets perfected. Does he like me? Is he into me? Will this go anywhere? Will we get serious? Is he the one?  With lesbians they are always the one. I met a few woman after K and I broke up and I was trying to figure out, everything in my life. These woman were nuts, that sounds bad but really they were needy, clingly, too much information, 16 emails a day (not reciprocal ones) just open your email and SLAM 16 emails in a row from a lonely nurse looking to find love. Another intelligent woman a professor at a big university going on and on and on and motherfucking on about how her ex and her best friend cheated on her and she was left to pick up the pieces. I don’t want to diminish the pain or struggles of these people but Jesus aint no way I was stepping up to the plate for a whole lotta drama.  That’s what was out there.  I took a deep breath and quietly retreated to safe daydreams of meeting someone nice, funny, cute with baggage they can compartmentalize at least until after the first few dates for gods sake.

It’s Thanksgiving morning, I saw my best friends last night and laughed and felt loved and part of something good, I woke up today missing my brother so much that I don’t know exactly how to get through the day. I feel like when you lose someone you really love people expect you to be sad and you expect to be sad but I never expected to be sad forever. It’s been 2 years since he passed and I just started acknowledging the grief just last year but it feels like something that will always make me feel so deeply distraught and heartbroken for the rest of my life.

I will have a nice distraction tonight a guy I’m dating, we will hang out, laugh, flirt, watch a movie and I will cook us dinner.  It will be good but Dec 3 is around the corner and the anxiety of feeling that tremendous sense of loss and sadness make me feel overwhelmed, insecure and out of control of my emotions, which we all know doesn’t work well for me….or the people around me.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12/31/10 I’m gay, let’s go for Thai/3

Coming out was different for me, I’m 42 have a good sense of myself and am confident in who I am. I did not have to face the struggles that young people face when coming out I did not have the fears, insecurity or self doubt. I’m old enough to live my own life and say “fuck you” if you don’t like it get on board or get the hell off.So at 41 I fell in love and started to date a girl. She was and is amazing, breath taking intelligent, beautiful in a gentle non assuming way and wise wise wise. She is quiet, soft, delicious, loving and drinkable. She is and will forever be the love of my life, this is the person I have waited for forever and the person I have hurt the most because my whole life I had to fight and defend myself to survive in my household. It was crush or be crushed any sign on weakness and you were dead in the water. God bless my sister a sensitive type, someone who wears her emotions on her sleeve someone who was an easy target for my mother. When my mother was verbally assaulting her and she saw the crack begin to widen and my sisters eyes fill with tears because she was told she was stupid, worthless and whore or whatever her word of the day was…it was like a predator smelling the scent of their prey. Immediately she would attack my sister and tease her for crying, being weak, stupid and unable to control her emotions. She would tell her she was crazy and needed help because she was nothing more than a big cry baby and that this would be her downfall for the rest of her life and make her unsuccessful in anything she attempted.I watched, observed and quickly learned not to cry, no weakness was shown or I would be in the scope and she would finish me off. No way, my emotion of escape was anger to the 100th degree, stand and fight, be louder, be stronger, push back, say something equally mean or meaner, not go down without a fight, fight, fight, fight. It was how I survived suicide attempts by the age of 12. I knew better than to try again because I was punished severly by my mother when she was aware of the second time. “What are you crazy? now I have to treat you like a fucking baby? watch your every god damn move and babysit you like a kindergardener? Jesus Christ what the hell is matter with you? !SLAP! Why are you making so much work for me? !SLAP!”After finally letting me out of the bathroom I heard her walk casually through the front room and spew with a sigh of exasperation “Your sister tried to kill herself tonight, what to you think of that?” My brother sat on the couch blankly staring ahead at the TV saying nothing. She then arrived to the kitchen and said the same comment to my Dad who said “Oh my god.” That was it. If it wasn’t for my sister L I would have never even seen a doctor about it. She understood that pain, she knew how deep it went and she was the only one to try to take some action.

I anticipated the day I would finally start telling my friends, “I’m in love with a girl.” M and K were the first, then my nieces, then E and D. The funny part is that I did it at the same Thai restaurant each time I was begining to think the waitress would walk up and just say “she gay, I take yur orda?” Each group of friends and loved ones was supportive, happy and could see the pureness of my bliss. It was unmistakenly there I literally was walking on air. M was curious and had lots of questions. L had some of the same questions but was also so excited by the potential of two people she loved and respected so much coming together. As time went on I shared it with more and more of my friends/coworkers.  My bosses know, my immediate friends and people I am close to know, K is a big part of my life.

There were so many amazingly loving, beautiful, deeply connecting moments we shared. There were also struggles that we endured that until recently we didn’t even know or understand that came from both of our childhoods. Now so much later after being in couples counseling for the last couple months we are trying to figure out if there is an “us” left to save. With the knowledge we both gained there is great potential, she discovered her dysfuntions and I jumped into mine head first and tore them open, getting past the anger and justification and arriving to the most painful part of my heart and psyche. So painful that in some moments I felt again that I might not be able to go on and survive the pain of reliving those moments. I’ve never known that there was so much I didn’t deal with, I thought I was past it, but as therapy began I remembered more and more about my childhood, telling K what used to be and what head games I was constantly dodging and trying to be one step ahead of. With each memory I was able to immediately link it back to our relationship. Like why I always needed to be right and why I would debate till end and stand my ground that her sweatshirt wasn’t red but burnt orange.

In the end it doesn’t matter but I was operating as I had as a child and giving in and giving up and being wrong or mistaken had earth shattering repercussions for me. I was no longer needing to defend and stand my ground, K wasn’t against me, she wasn’t going to hurt me, she wasn’t trying to defeat me but I couldn’t break my patterns and in the end it may have cost me the one person who ever really loved me and that I loved so.

We are so different but in some ways that is the beauty of it she provides me with what I will never fully understand or come to on my own. Her perspective, her heart, her smarts continously bring me to better places, she elevates me on every level even when she challenges me to move beyond my limitations. I love her deeply and the thought of us not succeeding and not staying together is beyond heart breaking and terrifying for me. Right now she needs space and time both of which can be a challenge for me because in my household the “silent treatment” meant a week of attacks, snide comments, your wet clothes being yanked out of the dryer and thrown in the driveway, hearing everyone called to the dinner table and invited to eat except you, the silent treatment was hell week. But K isn’t my mother and her quiet time, where she needs to think, regroup, recharge and pull her thoughts together isn’t about punishing me or sending me a message that I’m not loved although I let it trick my head because it triggered the insecurities of my childhood. She’s taking time so that she can be considerate and think about what she needs, what must her next step be. She is literally thoughtful in her process and if I think of it that way I can cherish the idea that she needs that time away from me. I can cherish and respect that she loves and thinks so deeply that rather than be impulsive and reactive she stops and uses her heart and her head together. I told you she is amazing

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12/31/10 I will not submit to the grief/2

My father’s wake, I’m on display, I’m like a host floating through the crowd thanking everyone for coming, shaking hands, getting hugs, kissing cheeks I never stop moving till it’s my turn to stand in the reception line. My sisters and brother in laws and nieces all take place standing there, next to the coffin, watching people pray and cry as they kneel infront of my father. I disconnect, focus on other things, remove myself as far as I can while my body waits to mechanically to say “thank you for coming, yes it is sad, yes he was a great person, thank you.”My friends arrive, one of them L knows me well she leans over and whispers to M “something’s not right, she’s too, she’s too, pulled together, she doesn’t seem like she just lost her dad.” She’s right I do not seem like someone in pain, someone scared, someone lost, someone forced to spend time with a family they are not close to, a family they never feel safe showing vulnerability with.I’m not right and this is just the begining of how fucked up I am about to become, this is the begining of therapists offices, fights with K, hurting her, hurting us and not even knowing it, feeling suicidal, becoming a sort of walking dead, numbing myself and pushing the person who loves me most away. This is the begining of the worst time in my life, for over the next year right after my father’s funeral I will have to put down my dog because she bit the person I am in love with, badly, so badly she is hospitalized,  I will watch my other dog bite and attack my neighbors dog, I will push K away without realizing what I am doing, I will make mistakes and let the dysfunction that I come from hurt our relationship, K will lose her job and I will take part in deciding to remove my brother from life support and let him die.Right now at my Dad’s funeral I’m in survival mode aka not dealing with what’s going on.  No one in my family knows that I’m gay now, not like I’m trying to keep it secret but something about that announcement at a funeral is not right. My oldest sisters watch and notice, they see K and they see me, at this point I haven’t even told my friends yet, we are so new and well they have only known me to date men. My oldest sister appears to figure it out and will eventually tell L the one sister I maintain a relationship with which will then in turn cause her to relentlessly question my nieces -who do know, I told them first.

I’m tired the next day there is a mass he will be cremated so no cemetary, I’m glad.
Everyone rides in the limo, except me I don’t and haven’t for a long time felt part of my family, I tolerate them most of them are well, crazy, damaged and difficult to love and be loved by. My mother has pulled a number on each one of us, she has damaged us so deeply and so darkly, systematically attempting to take all of her kids out at one point.
I hug and kiss my family members at the wake because I have to, others are watching, others expect that cause that’s what families do. I hate it, I feel like a fraud, a liar I hate to be in a position where I have to pretend. I stopped pretending long ago when I broke nearly all ties with them. I ride with K to the church, we meet my family in the front as they exit the limo and we all watch and wait as the coffin is carried out of the hearse.
We follow down the aisle and we file into the first three pews of the church, K is sitting directly behind me one seat back. My family all sits in the first row there is no room for me and I sit in the second pew by myself. My nieces are infront of me and we perodically offer each other support.  My sister N delivers the eulogy she does it in both Spanish and English she does a wonderful job. When she comes back I tell her coldly “good job”.  K says to her “that was beautiful N”.  I can’t connect with her, she did give a beautiful speech but the only thing I can muster is “good job.” We’ve never learned to really love each other, support each other or be there for each other. When my mother was angry with one of us she often tried to pit the others against you as well and if you talked to, helped or were nice to the one in the “doghouse” you might find yourself next.

It’s time to give each other the hand shake the “peace be with you”. I turn around and K embraces me, out of the corner of my eye my friend M who has recently moved back from Mexico comes up and hugs me warmly. I am deeply touched, so appreciative and feel so loved. She found out via our school email that my dad had passed, she immediately left work picked up her husband and they headed out from Forest Park to the southwest side of Chicago, she made it just in time for the mass. I will always remember that gesture of love and it was the thing that finally moved me to tears as I stood in my pew, removed from my Dad, removed from my family, removed from my heart, removed from this moment. I make my way down my pew hugging people in my family, my mother never turns around to be hugged by me and I even tap her shoulder at one point and she distracts herself with my sister.

Later that day at home K’s observations and introduction to my family rolled over me like a boulder. She gave a blow by blow account of the “dysfunctions of your family” talking about how no one comforted my mom or my sister N and the visible seperation between us. The coldness, the tenseness the akwardness was something she witnessed first hand and no amount of preparation even if I had given it to her would have helped her understand it or be prepared for it. Someone who has a relationship a normal one with her family cannot understand it. It wouldn’t be untill much later in our relationship that she would begin to understand it and even be able to explain it to others as I tried to do with friends.  To this day, to this moment as I write this, the night after she has broken up with me, on the brink of her possibly moving out and ending our relationship forever, she is still learning, seeing, hearing and experiencing the profound impacts my childhood has had on me.

0 CommentsLeave a comment

12/31/10 He’s died…./1

May 1 2009 I’m leaving work to go home for lunch to let the dogs out. I’m in a good place, I have just “come out”, late but have fallen in love with an amazing woman K. We didn’t see it coming but here we are about 4 weeks into our relationship. I check my phone because we are in that stage, you know where you text a million times a day but don’t say much more than how much you adore each other. I pull out my phone to receive my latest love note and I see a text from my niece says “call home asap”. I get a sinking feeling I pull over, as I dial I talk myself through what might be on the other end of the line.

“Aunt Lisa?,
“Yeah, what’s going on? what happened?
“Grandpa died.”

There it was, the words we all know one day we will have to face as our parents get older we know one day, one day it will happen and we try to anticipate our reactions but they never match the real thing.

“What happened, why, what happened?” my niece isn’t sure he appears to have just passed in his sleep. He woke up early showered and was waiting for both of my nieces to come by to go to breakfast with them. Sat down in the chair shut his eyes and passed away.

My dad is the best grandfather in the world, he was a pretty good dad to me but the job of grandfather was made for him, I was fortunate to see him in action as he loved, played with and spoiled my nieces. That day I realized the sadness that if I were to have children they would never know that love and joy of feeling like the most important person in the world and being so purely adored by their grandfather. I never really thought I would have kids but suddenly I became sad feeling like these imaginary not had and not even wanted kids wouldn’t know my father.

I was confused and literally disoriented, kinda starting to cry but more whimpering with a hearbeat that felt like it would pound through my chest.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, turn the car around drive back to school tell them your not coming back because your father just died. Turn around and drive back, go.

I pull back into the parking lot, there’s Kelly, she lost her dad, she knows what this is, she knows how this feels, she is walking out of school towards me she sees a look on my face and knows something is wrong, she asks.

She proceeds to hug me with all she is, she hugs me so authentically, so hard, so caringly that for a moment the world is on pause and I feel like the pain in my heart transfers to her. “I’m sorry, what can I do? I’m so sorry”. “I need to just go in and let our boss know.” I need to tell my student teacher who is sitting in my office and has just started working with me.

I walk into a fog, everything is muffled, I go to the office but my boss isn’t there I see the next person in line, M the school psychologist she’s my friend. She hugs me, she’ll let them know, go be with my family. I walk in my office and I tell C my student teacher she hugs me I tell her to report to M if she needs anything. I leave.

I sent K a text and she calls me I tell her what has happened and she asks me if she needs to work I tell her no I’m on my way to the funeral home and will call her.

I’ve never lost anyone before so I’m completely treading water and have no idea what I need. In fact for 6-8 months I do not grieve, I do not cry, I do not acknowledge the pain. Until in a therapists office, I engage in an exercise that has me imagining my father is sitting across from me and I tell him/the empty chair what I never got to say before he left.

Dad I want to thank you for teaching me an amazing work ethic. I get my sense of responsibility and integrity in relation to work from you. You modeled such an amazing example that I noticed at a young age and was always aware that you provided for your family. I want to thank you for my sense of humor, I love that you always cracked a joke, you were smart, witty and funny. I miss you, I’m sorry we weren’t closer near the end of your life, I’m sorry I didn’t make time to always see you and that I let the relationship with my mother interfere with me maintaining a  relationship with you. I hope your happy, safe and in a better place. I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry.

I arrive at the funeral home my two sisters and their husbands are there F is taking the lead and asking questions and helping to make the arrangements. My sister N sits near my mother crying. My brother is not there, he’s too sick, been sick for the past 15 years plus he has let the diabetes win and lives a hollow unfulfilling life in my mothers house who cares for him around the clock. My nieces hug and kiss me and I make the same rounds with my three sisters though we are not close. None of us are really close as sibilings the only one I had a close relationship with was with my brother but my sister L and I try sometimes.

We are moved to a table and the person at the funeral guides us delicately throught he routine, prayer cards, flowers, ribbons, coffins, obituary, death certificate and on and on. I hardly speak, N my sister does much of the talking and then translating into Spanish to my mother. Decisions are made, books are passed between us and everyone nods and agrees to things we will never remember we agreed to. My niece P looks at me and says “what they hell are you wearing?” I look down at my long sleeve aqua blue shirt with a red and grey striped sweater pulled over it, my eyes follow down my legs to my cuffed jeans which expose two different socks, one striped one argyle and then all the way down to my feet, two different shoes. She then points to the four multicolored bubbly shaped barrettes in my hair.

“It was mismatched day at school today, I forgot I was dressed like this.”  Everyone laughs. Even the funeral director admits to thinking I was a little weird.

The arrangements get made and we start to leave, my sister asks if I want to see my father, no, no I don’t no. They are unable to show him to me because there are the remains of someone else there. The remains…..the remains, it sounds so removed from the person I called my father.  I want to leave, I want to get out of here, I want to go, I have to go. I go home and recount the events to K she hugs me and comforts me and takes the next few days off of work to be with me. 4 weeks in and here is where we are the first of many traumas we will be dealt in our first year together and the first of what damages me for the next two years.

0 CommentsLeave a comment