<sigh – deep breath in and out>
So…I cried myself to sleep last night. If you don’t understand why, I recommend reading the entry just before this one. At this point, I’m not even sure that reading it will help.
I feel horrible for thinking and feeling the way I feel about my dad. And people who know me, know that I am not the self-pitty type. I am much more the “suck it the fuck up and keep moving because life will run you over if you don’t keep up” type.
I don’t even know where to begin. Where did I stop last night?
<pause, move cursor to “duplicate tab”, and voila>
This is where I stopped: “DID YOU THINK ABOUT THAT? YOU FUCKER!”. Then I said something about hurting in places I didn’t know existed for having these thoughts and questions to begin with.
My apologetic, primal, and almost compulsive instinct is staring me in the eye right now. In a very “do this or else” way.
It’s true though…my love for my dad, mom, brother, and sister is truly incontestable. Immutable. That is, with the acknowledgement that we all fuck up once in a while, and that, more often than not, this is not done intentionally. We screw up because, honestly, we just don’t know any better.
This is exactly how my conversation started with my dad today.
“Hi dad! How are you? Oh…I’m good…humm….what’s up? Did you call me yesterday to talk to me about “Inha’s” tattoo?”
“Hi love, How are you? Are you in Boston or travelling? I’m good…No…I didn’t call you about “Inha’s” tattoo. I called just to know how you’re doing. I only talked to “Inha” after calling you.”
<me — I’ll remove the quotation marks from now on>
I’m glad you called…I’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you for about SEVENTEEN YEARS. I’m glad I waited though. Ya know…being older (and more uselessly serious) helps in this conversation. My ability to articulate my feelings and thoughts in a more rational way will probably be very handy in this conversation. Because you know how I utterly dislike, even remotely, hurting your feelings (and mom’s, and my bro’s and sis’).
And then…the artificially aseptic and projectile VOMIT came out.
I pretty much said everything that I wrote yesterday (see https://sassithespider.wordpress.com/2013/04/04/this-is-going-to-be-a-pretty-long-entryies/). Well…in a more respectful way.
I probably sounded a bit crazy as I insisted in reminding my dad that my love for him would never change, regardless of what I was saying to him…about him. I kept reminding myself to tell him that, as a 35-year old woman, who strives to be as just as possible with everyone, I just needed to tell him these things that I was thinking about what happened some 17 years ago and now in 2013.
I said…”Dad, I feel it’s unfair sometimes that I have had these types of conversations with mom <you know…the conversations that come out of your realization that your parents are human, and as such make mistakes…just like you…but the fundamental conflict that it causes inside of you because you love them so deeply…that such a realization hurts…> and I have spared you of a lot that goes on in my mind…about you.”
Let me pause for a second or two.
The reason why it feels so fundamentally wrong to have this conversation with my dad, or my mom for that matter, is that they are one of the few beings in this world I TRULY love. With that, comes the guilt of potentially hurting someone that you love so dearly. And who has devoted his/her life to you. The “weird feeling” that comes from almost fully understanding that you have a strong core because you have parents like them. But still…there you are…stating some facts that can be hurtful to them.
I effectively put myself in the list of people who suck BIG TIME.
This is precisely how I feel. I feel horrible after my conversation with my dad. Even though, I know that I was as gentle, fair, rational, respectful, and loving as I could be.
In fact, I did not offend him in any way. I did not “blame” him for anything. I just stated what was going on in my mind. In my soul. Things that probably would have come out the wrong way in the past, but that I was now able to articulate a bit better…stripped of “guilt trip” rhetoric.
His reaction surprised me a bit, but I’ll have to write about this tomorrow.
I’ll have to write about this tomorrow, because right now…I am unfortunately regretting that I had this conversation with him to begin with. I could have kept it just here, in my blog.
Once it’s out…it’s out…and you never know who things unfold.
I do believe that when something this powerful and deep comes out of an essentially good, constructive, and loving place, that things unfold toward a Brigher place, however difficult the journey is getting to that place.
I spoke with my Heart. I spoke with my Soul. I love my father. So I want to believe that this will be “good” somehow, for both he and I.
But for right now…I am seriously questioning myself. I feel horrible for saying out loud, what he probably already knows to himself.