Tuesday, May 18, 2010
MAYBE FRIENDSHIP ISN’T SO COMPLEX, AFTER ALL
When I hang out with Sammie and his wife (so far), I feel good about myself and they bring out the fun, spontaneous side of me. I think that’s a good sign that they are good friends for me to have.
Some friends in the past, I feel kinda shitty after hanging out with them; or feel unsafe or confused. But not these two. I like them and they say they like me. Bam. Simple as that. Friendship doesn’t need to be as complicated as I’ve made it out to be in the past. I feel happy.
And today Sammie even asked when I’ll be coming over to the dueling piano bar next, or to visit them next—he wouldn’t have asked if they didn’t like me.
Friendship brings my life to a whole new level. I’m slowly leaving isolation.
Write a list of specific resentments towards dad.
- 17 years old; I think this was the night that I tried to run away. I locked my bedroom door. Dad pounded on the door and demanded that I open it. I put my shoulder on the door to try and keep him from opening it. He unlocked it from the outside with a nail, through the little door knob hole. Once the door was opened, we had a physical fight. He threw me against the wall. I remember my head hitting the wall. I struggled but he pinned me down on the floor, stomach down, with my arm behind my back, as I screamed, “Fuck you” multiple times at him. I finally gave up. I forget what happened after that.
- 19 years old; I’d moved back in. He opened my door to let me know of a phone call. I was asleep, but he woke me up. Then, I’d gotten used to sleeping naked (from being in the other city and away from home. Dad stared at my naked breast that was visible. The rest of me was covered with a sheet. He seemed to stare forever. I tried to ignore it and pretend I didn’t notice.
- High school. Dad took me shopping. I wanted to buy a white shirt. It was thin and my nipples were visible through the bra and fabric. Dad stared at my chest.
- 5-10 years old; spankings without pants, in the bathroom.
- 5-10 years old; witness to sister’s punishments for popping in her pants (she would have been anywhere between 4 and 8 years old). [Note: In one of the self help books, I remember reading that it’s also a traumatic incident to be a witness to the abuse of friends or siblings.]
- (I’m guessing this is something I should resent, although I don’t consciously feel resentment): Dad working a lot, when I was in middle and high school; being gone a lot.
- 17 years old—mom brought a hammer into the computer room. Dad ended up hitting mom (defending himself?). I’m not sure what the real motives were, but I resent him for putting her in pain.
- For making me go to church, after I started questioning their religion and didn’t want to go anymore.
- For stepping on a baby bunny and then killing it with a shovel (some time before middle school).
- When Matt and I told my dad (in person) that we were engaged to be married, my dad hesitantly said OK. He added to Matt, “But if you hurt her, you’re a dead man.” When Matt and I were going through the divorce, my dad sent me an email calling me a sociopath and sent me a description of the symptoms of the disease. The email seemed to suggest that I was a sociopath for divorcing Matt. (Matt had been in contact with my family; I still refused to speak to them.)
- I remember my dad saying, “Not with my money, you won’t!” Suggesting that as long as I was dependent on him financially, I had to live my life as approved by him.
- He sent me an email recently, casually asking if I wanted to get together while he’s visiting the state. As if we were old college buddies or something, as if it could possibly negate all the pain he’s caused.
- He tried to act as a hero, taking charge of my mom’s funeral, acting as if we could be a solid, loving, supporting family unit. As if the divorce hadn’t happened. As if the abusive acts didn’t happen. I hate feeling ignored. My pain is ignored by him. He is so clueless. I’ve never met someone who is so fucking clueless.
- He came to where I lived—Matt’s parents’ house—after mom’s funeral and acted as if nothing was wrong, as if we were a loving father/daughter team. I hated him so much—everyone in the room could feel it except that idiot man.
- I guess I should resent him for not protecting me from the molesters, or something.
- For making the comment to my sister: “You could stand to lose a little weight.”
- If my dad and mom really did separate for a while when I was a baby, then I guess I should also resent him for that. (I have no memories of it.)
- For not allowing me to have privacy by shutting and locking my door in high school. And for currently not respecting my privacy by trying to contact me occasionally.
- For throwing me out of the house when I was 19 when I got my tongue pierced. (I slept in my car that night, in a nearby school’s parking lot).