Still crazy after all these years...
Aug. 30th, 2007 12:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hippybngstockngI had a pretty intense day for a myriad of interesting reasons. We live in interesting times, this is not news. Still, my day was a lot heavier than usual, in fact I have to fight the urge to make the "each pound of it weighed ten thousand pounds" joke, but I've already used that lately, so I won't. Suffice it to say I could stand having some light fluffy boring days for a while.
The earlier part of the day left me with that urge I get sometimes to talk to my dad. I don't get it a lot, and most of you know that when it does strike it also fills me with the oogy and the bad that anything associated with my dad can. It went better than that, since it started with my not being able to find him because his cell phone has been cut off/changed again/whatevered. I got anxious about it, and I thought about emailing my step-mom, and I did open an IM conversation with my brother asking about his email address, I did everything in my power to avoid the inevitable... The inevitable being that I know full well where he's living and with whom and a simple white pages search and I could be on the phone with him. I admitted this much to my brother in the IM, causing him to laugh and agree that I needed to be a big girl and just make the stupid call.
I felt like a jerk because I just asked for him by name instead of identifying myself to my own grandmother when she answered the phone. I don't think she knew it was me, but I imagine she will know it was me after the fact and that didn't escape me either since I could have just as easily been stuck needing to leave a message with her. In the end I just don't know what to say to her, since there's not a lot that can be said that will change anything and I just didn't want to open that can of worms at this moment. I wanted to talk to my dad.
It was a really good talk. He was having a good lucid day, so for the first time in a while he didn't rush me off the phone. We had the kind of talk we are capable of having on our good days. My dad is frequently capable of knowing what's going on with me even when I can't bring myself to talk about it. I didn't know I was vibing so hard, but he managed to ask the kinds of questions I would ask, and saying the kinds of things I am fond of saying in those moments. He is more open to the grey possibilities of life than my mother could ever be, and he can get me to say things my mother would never leave me feeling comfortable enough to say. It was good to be drawn out to the point of being vulnerable with him, but still feel completely ok with it. Maybe it's the salesman in him that does it, but he can put me in the comfortable place quite easily, even when I am as mad as can be at him. I look out for it when I know it's important to avoid it, but this time it was just about me and how I'm doing, there could be no pay off for him in caring about me and what I had to say, and I know he feels his connection to me then. Those are the only moments we ever have where I can believe he really is my dad, and that somewhere under all that confusion and stupidity he even loves me.
He did drift into the promising place, the place where he thinks he's going to do better "soon" and when that happens he "wishes [he] could send us 20 grand", etc.... After the second or third time of hearing about that which I know will never happen in a million years I finally did stop him. I said, "Whenever that happens, I would actually like it much better if you would consider spending that money on a trip to come see us." He got quiet for a moment, and then said that that would indeed be nice and that he should really think about making that one of his goals instead.
The promising continued a little, in that I said I had started on this whole quest to find him because I wanted his email address, and he said he would start to write to me a lot more. I also told him he should join Last.fm since I'm on there and have become a little junkie, and he's very into music too. I couldn't get my brother or sister into it, but he and I have actual crossover when it comes to taste so there's hope there. But do I truly think that he and I will suddenly start emailing a lot and build this fabulous new relationship like we never had before? That he will actually save up his money and come see me? Oh hell no, I would have to smoke a LOT of bad granola before I held out that kind of pie in the sky dream as possible. I did get a better insight into why I still hold onto him though, why he still manages to lure me back to him again and again, and why I can't help but feel the love I do feel for him. He can't do a damn thing to help me, but he can understand me and how I think better than my mother ever could. He knows that he doesn't need to ask me the really dumb obvious questions that piss me off, and skips straight to the answers I usually come up with anyway, and understands the how and why without my having to go over every painful detail. Talking to him is so much easier than my mom, even if there's still the underlying river of regrets and responsibilities and everything in between. I can feel better after talking to him, where usually the most I can hope for with my mom is to come out feeling the same. It's the one way in which he really doesn't suck, and considering where and how I came to be, that is occasionally incredibly important.
The earlier part of the day left me with that urge I get sometimes to talk to my dad. I don't get it a lot, and most of you know that when it does strike it also fills me with the oogy and the bad that anything associated with my dad can. It went better than that, since it started with my not being able to find him because his cell phone has been cut off/changed again/whatevered. I got anxious about it, and I thought about emailing my step-mom, and I did open an IM conversation with my brother asking about his email address, I did everything in my power to avoid the inevitable... The inevitable being that I know full well where he's living and with whom and a simple white pages search and I could be on the phone with him. I admitted this much to my brother in the IM, causing him to laugh and agree that I needed to be a big girl and just make the stupid call.
I felt like a jerk because I just asked for him by name instead of identifying myself to my own grandmother when she answered the phone. I don't think she knew it was me, but I imagine she will know it was me after the fact and that didn't escape me either since I could have just as easily been stuck needing to leave a message with her. In the end I just don't know what to say to her, since there's not a lot that can be said that will change anything and I just didn't want to open that can of worms at this moment. I wanted to talk to my dad.
It was a really good talk. He was having a good lucid day, so for the first time in a while he didn't rush me off the phone. We had the kind of talk we are capable of having on our good days. My dad is frequently capable of knowing what's going on with me even when I can't bring myself to talk about it. I didn't know I was vibing so hard, but he managed to ask the kinds of questions I would ask, and saying the kinds of things I am fond of saying in those moments. He is more open to the grey possibilities of life than my mother could ever be, and he can get me to say things my mother would never leave me feeling comfortable enough to say. It was good to be drawn out to the point of being vulnerable with him, but still feel completely ok with it. Maybe it's the salesman in him that does it, but he can put me in the comfortable place quite easily, even when I am as mad as can be at him. I look out for it when I know it's important to avoid it, but this time it was just about me and how I'm doing, there could be no pay off for him in caring about me and what I had to say, and I know he feels his connection to me then. Those are the only moments we ever have where I can believe he really is my dad, and that somewhere under all that confusion and stupidity he even loves me.
He did drift into the promising place, the place where he thinks he's going to do better "soon" and when that happens he "wishes [he] could send us 20 grand", etc.... After the second or third time of hearing about that which I know will never happen in a million years I finally did stop him. I said, "Whenever that happens, I would actually like it much better if you would consider spending that money on a trip to come see us." He got quiet for a moment, and then said that that would indeed be nice and that he should really think about making that one of his goals instead.
The promising continued a little, in that I said I had started on this whole quest to find him because I wanted his email address, and he said he would start to write to me a lot more. I also told him he should join Last.fm since I'm on there and have become a little junkie, and he's very into music too. I couldn't get my brother or sister into it, but he and I have actual crossover when it comes to taste so there's hope there. But do I truly think that he and I will suddenly start emailing a lot and build this fabulous new relationship like we never had before? That he will actually save up his money and come see me? Oh hell no, I would have to smoke a LOT of bad granola before I held out that kind of pie in the sky dream as possible. I did get a better insight into why I still hold onto him though, why he still manages to lure me back to him again and again, and why I can't help but feel the love I do feel for him. He can't do a damn thing to help me, but he can understand me and how I think better than my mother ever could. He knows that he doesn't need to ask me the really dumb obvious questions that piss me off, and skips straight to the answers I usually come up with anyway, and understands the how and why without my having to go over every painful detail. Talking to him is so much easier than my mom, even if there's still the underlying river of regrets and responsibilities and everything in between. I can feel better after talking to him, where usually the most I can hope for with my mom is to come out feeling the same. It's the one way in which he really doesn't suck, and considering where and how I came to be, that is occasionally incredibly important.
