Totally digging her

And the feeling seems to be mutual, but I haven’t actually heard her say it. I also have a feeling with all the shit I’ve been going through, that she just doesn’t want to get involved. I mean quite honestly, I don’t know who would. Life’s pretty crazy right now, and I really don’t expect anyone to be around for it. I also already told her to avoid getting the hero syndrome, like when someone just wants to swoop in and save you from whatever the hell is bringing you down. I told her no matter who it is, her, my family or friends, no one can change my mind but me. I’d like to think I’m doing a damn good job considering the circumstances.
Now I can’t help but think about what Sally calls the “self fulfilling prophecy.” That because I have these thoughts, thats the exact direction my life will head.
So I guess in this, and in general, I’m trying to stay positive but give space. Because shit, I bet I can get annoying.

People tend to leave

My dad left last Saturday, refusing to tell anyone where he was going. Before he had left, and before I knew about it I texted him telling him to stop trying to contact me. I blocked his number and deleted him from Facebook. Today was my first normal feeling day since, although that underlying uneasiness won’t ever go away. I’ve recently realized that I’ve had many people die in my lifetime, all 24 years of it. I know, I’m old. I first took notice of it almost a year ago when one of my best friend Michelle’s grandpa died. She had such a difficult time with it, and although I empathized with her, it felt so normal to see someone in a casket. I knew him, too. He was a phenomenal man with an awesome track record and national recognition. So I could imagine that constantly being reminded by newspaper articles and her grandpa’s fans wasn’t easy. But one night she just broke down, which led me to ask her if she had ever lost anyone. She said it was the first time and she didn’t see how I could have handled it. All I could say to her was that it gets easier.
And now I think, is that morbid? That death just gets easier? That something so life changing could become just another event that you learn to get over quicker and quicker. And I understand that it could be a defense mechanism. Maybe our bodies can’t handle anymore stress so they just don’t react.

A few years ago I was head over heals for this guy who turned out to be a robotic fucking asshole. He avoided me for two weeks at the end of it all, then when he decided to suck it up and talk to me, he told me he had never loved me and all those times he had said he did were lies. You know that feeling that your heart is being torn into tiny little pieces then spread all in between your ribcage? Yeah, it was one of those. It so happened I had a scheduled visit with the shrink that week, and what started as an attempt to get over daddy issues, turned into nonstop tears over a robot. Miss Margaret told me that losing someone in that way was like having someone in your life die. And yeah, I realized I had to morn just the same.
I’ve seen more caskets than I would have imagine I’d see at my age, and I’ve had many close people die or just leave voluntarily. And although I know death is a part of life, deep down I can’t help be fear that heart wrenching feeling again.
I’ve been hanging out with someone lately, let’s call her Erin. During one of our late night, couch laying talks we asked each other our biggest irrational and rational fear. My biggest rational fear used to be people leaving my world without knowing that I loved them, like really loved them. When she asked, my rational fear switched to being my irrational, and a new rational fear moved in its place. It turned irrational because no matter what I did for my dad, he always tried to guilt trip us, acting like he wasn’t loved. And the reality is that if it weren’t for us in his life, if it weren’t for my mother, he’d be a single mess probably living in a dumpy apartment in East LA. My rational fear turned into people leaving me. Death, change of heart, friendships. And because of this newfound fear I’m starting to realize this constant push and pull between letting myself be vulnerable with people, and hiding it all.
I can’t seem to find a balance, and I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.

He called on Christmas Eve

He didn’t call me for 5 months. Not after a tornado, bad weather, and after hearing that I ended up in a ditch. Not after my Mom refused to stop telling him my life. He texted me a few times, usually photos of paintings he was working on. I don’t know what he expected to come of it, that I would write back how talented he is? How it’s about freaking time he did something he enjoyed, instead of always complaining how much he didn’t have time for it.

But I guess my dad had time to call me finally, on Christmas Eve. And of course, I was having a nice, cozy dinner with Evangelista and her awesome family. I wasn’t about to answer the phone because he finally realized we hadn’t talked in months.

So I waited until Christmas day to call him back. I didn’t want to FaceTime him, but he did try the night before, so I figured it was only fair to give him a chance at it. Sooo, I FaceTimed him, and he sat there for a few seconds holding back tears. Yeah I missed him, but I wanted so badly to be able to reach through that phone and knock his head. This call could have happened months ago. And sure I could have called him, but he would have missed the point if I had. Or so I thought.

Small talk ensued and then I asked about the Christmas card he had sent. The first line read “I haven’t called because I know you don’t want me to.” He said well you didn’t. “Damnet Dad, no. You weren’t listening. I said call me when you are ready to stop lying to me. At this point, I gave up hoping you’d stop drinking. But I couldn’t take the lying.” And with all seriousness, he said, “Oh, then I must have read that wrong.”

And there went 5 months of not talking.

See I thought my dad was hardhead, but shit, not this hardheaded. I asked if he was done, done drinking I meant. And he said he was. I guess I won’t believe it until it hits a year.

He never did say he wouldn’t lie to me anymore.

He didn’t call even after a tornado.

There was a tornado that passed our town and touched down on the other side of the river. I was 3 hours away when it happened and luckily my roommate called me to tell me to stay where I was. It surprised me that my dad had yet to call me. Every morning and every night he check the weather online before he starts his day, or goes to sleep. For 6 years, he’s been a better weather radar than the local news, occasionally texting or calling to let me know a storm was on its way.

I still haven’t heard from him since July. And although my hurt may sound trivial compared to the pain people are feeling right now with homes and belongings completely gone, I can’t help how it creeps into my mind at work and stops me in mid sentence throughout the day. I’m pretty sure he knew about it and didn’t call me. Even if he didn’t know before, he knew about it after and still didn’t call me.

So one day, while shower thinking, I thought about the situation as if it was the other way around. If an earthquake were to hit home, I’d be calling as soon as I can. As a matter of fact, when a 5.4 earthquake hit right outside of Mexico City, I called home to ask if they knew if everyone was okay. My dad and uncle hadn’t heard about the earthquake yet. If that’s how I reacted about family I barely know, I would definitely be calling if it hit California.

It’s sad to think that I almost drove right into a storm, if it hadn’t been for my roommate’s call. He wouldn’t have had a clue, not out of not being aware, but out of pride. And unfortunately, my resentment grows.

Being alone…

Isn’t too bad when you have some things in your life to make it easier. Like a heat pack! My back and shoulders are constantly in knead of a massage. Bah! I know stupid. But a heat pack helps. I feel asleep with one on my shoulders last night and I feel absolutely amazing today. I massaged some kinks and knots and although only a professional could get them out, the attention I was finally paying to myself paid off. Hm, what next? A little self tlc goes a long way.

Could he just admit it?

I want him to just say the words, “I don’t like you that way.” I think it’s gotten to that point. If he can’t say it, then he’s not over me. He’s also someone that’s terrible at lying. I’m so incredibly nervous to bring it up, but if I don’t I’ll go absolutely insane.
If he says it, then hopefully I can get the closure I need to get over it. Or I should just listen to Elizabeth Gilbert…

Stop wearing a wishbone where your backbone ought to be.>

Realizing my “Daddy Issues”

My mom called me a couple days ago. I prepared myself to hear the usual updates on the father and his everlasting alcoholic condition. 

“I confronted him again about not talking to you. He said that you made it very clear you didn’t want to talk to him. So I asked, ‘Are you sure about that? Because from what I understood she wanted you to contact her when you were ready to stop lying.’ Then he said to me, ‘Well haven’t you thought maybe I’m not ready?'”

There was a droning pause between us. She knew that hit me hard in the gut.

“I told him he was selfish. I said, ‘Really? You’re willing to risk losing your daughter because you can’t stop lying?’ I told him that my opinion hasn’t changed, and it won’t until he makes it change. Then he got down on his knees and begged me, as if that was going to change anything.”

I always knew that the Latino Machismo attitude was very prevalent in my father’s personality, but never did I think it could get this bad. I almost convinced myself that he honestly didn’t understand my long email back in January, or my straight-forward texts messages. But he had. He understands them to the core and still refuses to do anything about it. He literally admitted he has been lying, and also stated that he isn’t ready to stop lying. 

My doubt in my decision to stop talking to him almost took over. I was so close to giving him a call to tell him how stupid he was and that I missed him.

Something I have learned from this that I never realized before: my “Daddy Issues” are a lot more serious than I had thought. In romantic relationships, I always end up coming back. I don’t stay true to my word and always hope the second time around, things have changed. They never do. My last girlfriend happened this same way, and this guy I’m now interested is going the same direction. I let him in again and I probably shouldn’t have. People don’t take me seriously, they think I’m too much of a softie and I’ll come running back. I usually do, but it’s not because I’m a “softie,” it’s because I always see the good in people.

That ability to see the good in people has been skewed to mean that I’m naive and too optimistic for my own good. Recently, the man I’m interested in now (and again) said that the first time around he saw “red flags.” I asked him what he meant by that, and he said I was naive and optimistic. This assumption that I’m naive drives me crazy, and makes me laugh at times. It usually comes from a lack of actually knowing my experiences, a lack of understanding how my Mother raised me to be, but most importantly (and more oftenly) the fact that my optimism scares the shit out of people that fear failure. It leaves me questioning who is the one in the situation that is truly naive. I’m not scared to fail, because that just proves one way things shouldn’t be. I’m scared of never trying, then laying on my deathbed cursing at the moon and the stars “Why didn’t I just try? What the hell did I have to lose but maybe some more heartbreak?” I can get over heartbreak, I have before. 

And I will again. 

Cigarette lips and my intern

About 2 weeks ago she said she hadn’t hung out with him in over a month. Recently his name has come up in my stories about my day and I have a feeling that’s why she’s been making an effort to see him. He’s suddenly attractive to her. And he’s completely into the attention. It’s awkward on many levels. I’m friends with my intern, and of course, she’s my intern. So that puts me in a weird position–a place where I’m helpless and can only walk away. I guess that’s that.

I couldn’t move

And it was so weird not being able to control it. I kept telling my arm to move my wrist to move my hand. Nothing happened. I stayed frozen with Barbie-like hands, trembling. What triggered the panic attack, who knows. All I know is that my thoughts and worries have been building up for quiet some time. I’m just glad my boss was there to calm me down. “My wife gets them all the time, and I’ve also seen people go into shock.” Shock was what I wanted to avoid. I hate hospitals, so when he asked me if I would feel better going, I said, “I don’t know right now.” Instead, he lifted me from the chair to the couch and I stayed there for a good 2 hours before I could sit up. I don’t know how people deal with these attacks on the daily. My friend who was talking me through things said she gets anxiety. So insane, and so tiring! But we had a good laugh about it after. “We need to figure out how to avoid that next time, so I don’t have to carry your ass again.” A reminder why I love my job.