My father was a sexual predator
Bad blood runs deep
Rage, hatred, disgust, shame
My father was a sexual predator
Bad blood runs deep
Rage, hatred, disgust, shame
I’m so…pissed off, angry, hurt, sad, filled with anxiety! I’m so everything right now.
I’m so frustrated with people who have refused to evacuate for this hurricane. “My cat doesn’t evacuate” is the lamest excuse I’ve heard. She says her cat doesn’t deal well with being transported. Throw the cat in a pet carrier and go! I have another friend who’s staying ON HIS BOAT right where the eye is supposed to hit. I’ve told him to leave so many times and he won’t. What can I do?
I have one pocket of family that lives in Cape Coral and my elderly uncle is staying with them for the storm. They’re expecting storm surge of 6 feet in their house. Why stay through that?? Why put your children through that? Again, what more can I do than offer advice and line up places for them to stay. If they refuse to go, I can’t help that.
Yesterday afternoon, I texted a friend and asked her to hang out. No response until today. I don’t know why I keep looking to the same people to help when the same people have let me down over and over. This is the same friend that says I’m too “black and white” in my response to disappointment. She says I don’t give people other chances when they let me down. But here I am, doing just that with her- and she continues to let me down. I need to cut ties. For my own sanity. I need to stop thinking people care when they really don’t.
At the last event I went to, I did a big favor for a fan. A favor I hate doing. He couldn’t go so he asked me to get some pictures signed for him. Thirty pictures of thirty different people!! It took me hours to go around finding everyone, but I did it. I joked with him when I got back that I “forgot” to get his pictures signed. I figured when I mailed them back to him and he saw they were all signed, he’d get a good laugh out of it and would be really happy. But I’ve heard nothing from him. So I messaged, asking if he got his pictures. No response. Today I saw that he UNFRIENDED me on Facebook. Woooowwww. So you’re telling me that you will throw me away because I didn’t do a favor for you? Unfreakingbelievable. I’m shocked. And very angry. I’ve already been thrown away by him. But this is where I get black and white. I honestly don’t want people in my life like that. If I need to do you favors in order for you to see me as valuable, forget it. If you throw me away when I don’t do a favor for you, forget it. I honestly do not want nor need people like that in my life. Call it being too black and white. I really don’t care.
I feel like I’m in a phase of my life where I really need to protect myself. My feelings are so hurt by this. By my friend dissing me. By this guy unfriending me and refusing to respond. By my family and friends in Fl not taking this storm nor my fear for their safety seriously.
But it’s more than that…I feel like there’s something really wrong with me that I’m just not seeing. I can sit here and recount how I’m dissed by this person, ignored by that person, thrown away by another. But who’s the common denominator here? Me. What am I doing wrong? I must be doing something wrong. I just don’t know what.
The last few days I’ve been overly concerned about the hurricane and yet…I cannot stop thinking about something.
It was about two weeks ago. I was convinced that I would die that weekend through either direct or indirect action taken by myself. My mom had always said to shave well and do your nails and toenails before surgery…she says nurses and other staff sometimes make fun of people while they’re under anesthesia because they’re unkempt. So I thought of this. I thought when someone finds my body, even though I might be bloated and smelly, I should be clean. So I took a super long shower. I washed and scrubbed, shaved and shaved again. I kept picturing whoever would find me. I kept thinking I’d try to be as unpleasant looking as possible…for a dead body. I did this in a weird kind of trance. I was out of it, but not really because I was thinking and planning. And for some reason, even with everything going on…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. It won’t go away.
That’s part of why I tried to reach out to my friend last night. I was so back and forth between being self-destructive and not. I was hoping some company could distract me and keep my mind off that.
I guess for now, focusing on the hurricane and on my friends and family there will actually be helpful. I’d rather focus on them than myself anyway. Thinking of the state I was in, the way I got ready for someone to find my body…that’s messing with my head. Big time. I want it to stop.
Self medicating again…as tears stream down my face.
I feel pretty overwhelmed at the moment. I’m originally from Miami, FL and went through Category 5 Hurricane Andrew. I’m stressing for all of my family and friends who are in the path of Category 5 Hurricane Irma. Memories are flooding back to me. I want to reach out, to help, and I feel powerless. I ask my roommate if it’s ok that I offer asylum to my closest friends and family members if they need a place to evacuate to. (I live on the other side of the country- it’s simply not feasible for someone to come here to evacuate- so it’s a remote possibility that anyone could take me up on it) but I feel I have nothing else to offer them in their fear and panic. My roommate says no. 🙄😡 I’m stunned and furious that I can’t help my own family members!! I don’t even know what to say.
That’s not even the real reason why I’m so perturbed. I texted my aunt today- the one who was married to my uncle who committed suicide because my dad sexually abused him and no one believed him. I wanted to offer her a place to stay if she needed. Since I hadn’t talked with her since my uncle’s suicide, I took the opportunity to tell her I wanted to talk to her about my uncle and my dad. After playing phone tag all day, we finally spoke. We talked about her evacuation plans… and then, I chickened out on the rest of it. I told her I’d rather talk in person and maybe I could see her the next time I’m in Florida. She all too quickly hung up the phone. Was she disappointed in me? Did she know what I wanted to talk about and did she not want to discuss it? Was I wasting her time? I have no clue. But the swiftness with which she hung up left me feeling incredibly uneasy.
Talking to her, telling her what my uncle always said happened WAS TRUE, telling her how my dad sexually abused me too- I’ve been thinking about telling her all of this for over a year now. I was thinking today would be the day. I was so disappointed in myself that I couldn’t spit it out. Of course, this is a conversation better had in person. But that means it will be at least a year before we can speak face to face.
And then of course, I can’t help but think about my unknown neighbor who committed suicide this weekend. I can’t stop thinking about them. It really should have been me. I can’t handle this life. I can’t handle what God has thrown my way. I’m disgusted and embarrassed with how weak I am, how I’m not able to handle these things, this life. I feel so, so badly for my neighbor and what they must have been going through. I just don’t know what to do.
I’m disappointed in myself for self medicating again- but hey, it’s coping to avoid doing anything else. It’s coping to simply stay alive. My mind is swirling like a category 5. Self medicating is all I have.
The truth is surely difficult to swallow. 😣 I still don’t want to believe it. And I still want to think he was somehow a good person.
I’ve been wearing the same clothes since Friday. I’m doing a terrible job of taking care of my little pup. I’ve been a horrible “friend” to people lately. It cannot go on like this.
Holy God. That was the most difficult thing I’ve done in forever! It makes me REALLY APPRECIATE and I mean, really appreciate people who do this for a living.
I just visited with a woman who is dying of cancer. We cried. We talked. We cried and talked some more. She cried out to God multiple times, asking him, “Why?! Why me?” And she softly said, “He never answers.” This made my heart instantly overflow with deep sadness.
I felt powerless to help in any capacity whatsoever.
She echoed so many sentiments that I feel myself- and yet it made me feel like I didn’t have the right to feel the same way- because my situation isn’t as severe and it’s not as permanent.
She cried as she told me how scared she was. She said it over and over. She’s mad at God too. She doesn’t want to leave her loved ones here on earth.
She said she felt selfish for wanting Rob to not leave- like she needs his support, she needs him present there with her. She talked over and over again about the night they had drinks out on her back deck. They need to do that again.
Like seriously…I want to pay for a plane ticket for Rob to come back and spend time with her. His company made her so happy…I can relate to that. And I want to give her that again.
She is an absolutely amazing woman. I was in awe of her, truly. She possesses a bravery that I’ll never have.
I really do pray for healing for her. I pray that God takes away her pain (she cried as she talked about the pain). I pray that God breathes through her entire body and annihilates every speck of cancer that there is. I pray God sees fit to give her at least a few more years of life that she can enjoy. I pray the Holy Spirit gives her peace and even joy during this time. I pray that God will take away the fear and anxiety that she has about dying and her short future. And I pray that the Holy Spirit would move in her husband’s heart to bring him to know, truly know Jesus.
I silently prayed that God would give me her cancer and let her live carefree. I’ve prayed this already about three times now- even before I met her. I prayed it for another friend (long before I wanted to die) and I’m dead ass serious about it. I don’t play around with shit like that. Even as I drove to see her, I was thinking about it- how people can say that, but if it would come down to physically doing it, how many actually would. With my other friend, I prayed this for the future too. If his cancer ever came back, if I was alive…no matter how happy I might be, no matter how much I might be enjoying life- I told God that I would take his cancer in his place for the remainder of my time here on earth. I’m disheartened to feel like it’s a futile prayer. I don’t think God does that. I mean, think of how many times parents who have had children with terminal illnesses have prayed that they would give their life for their child. And does it ever happen? How many times have we heard of a child with a terminal illness magically and unexplainably getting better while their parent fell ill?
I don’t understand God. I’ve said that before. I know I’ll understand him when I get to heaven and hopefully, things will make more sense.
But for now, we’re here. Please pray for Annette.
This tree towers above the gravesites of my dad, grandmother, and grandfather. When my dad died, my mom had me climb that tree and put orchids and bromeliads up there in honor of my dad. The orchids didn’t last, but all those bromeliads are still there. For some reason, this makes me feel full of mixed negative emotions…not sure why.
I made this for my dad when he was being decimated by cancer. The letters are shaky and messed up. For the first time ever, seeing this hanging in my mom’s house irritated and angered me.
I passed by this and was struck by how much it reminds me of myself- deformed, dejected, despondent, frumpy.
I’ve spent the week with an old friend and several other families whom I don’t know. We were in an incredibly beautiful place and I feel so fortunate to have experienced that with them. I’m truly grateful. Here was my morning devotional spot for the last week:
Unfortunately, everyone was in hard core vacation mode, so most every single adult was perpetually inebriated and obnoxiously loud. I was annoyed within minutes with all these loud, drunk people I didn’t even know…and this lasted nearly a week. I never got to have any kind of a private discussion with my friend. I really needed that. It sucks- but what can you do?
What’s good is that I got to spend time with her kids, who are wonderful! We had lots of fun conversations with several of us- myself, my friend, and 1-2 of her kids. The one person I got into a deep conversation with was her 16 year old son. We talked about his future and his motivation for why he wants to sacrifice himself and commit to serving others. He’s such an inspiration! I encouraged him to pursue what he felt called to do- even though his parents want him to pursue an entirely different path. I was in awe of his selflessness and his positive attitude toward life, helping others, and his future.
My friend kept encouraging me to stop in and visit our old neighborhood.
But I refused to stop in my hometown. I didn’t want to relive or be reminded of any negative memories. I know maybe seeing my childhood home might bring back some happy memories, but with things going the way they are, I didn’t trust that my mind wouldn’t go down a dark path or focus on just the detrimental experiences or memories from there. I mean, so many horrendous events occurred there!! I just didn’t want to go back.
I did, however, want to go visit the cemetery where my dad is. I wanted to tell him out loud, “I’m mad at you, Daddy!” But when I got there, I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know why I couldn’t say that. I thought it- then my eyes went straight to my grandma’s name on the tombstone and in my head, I said, “And I’m really mad at YOU, Grandma!!” But again, I couldn’t voice it. That was so disappointing to me- like I was so weak that I couldn’t stand up for myself or something. I’m not sure why that disappointed me so much. It’s not like they’d hear me.I brushed off the tombstone and put a tiny bit of flowers. I didn’t know what to do with myself there. I left, started to drive off…then turned around and came back. I don’t know why. I wasn’t ready to leave, but didn’t know what to do when I stayed.
As I was driving to the cemetery, I began reminiscing. I remember my mom catching me rummaging through her closet numerous times. She’d always ask me what I was looking for. I’d tell her “my adoption papers.” She would get so mad! 😂 I feel so guilty saying this, but I had always wanted different parents. Geez, I feel really terrible saying that. But it’s true. I had always fantasized that I had different parents- even as a child, I wished there was more out there for me. Is that selfish? Immature? Worldly? I’m not sure. I also remember fantasizing about running away (I only did that once in real life)- but I’d think I could take care of myself and my little brother better than my parents. I would even picture us homeless, living in a shack in a wooded area that we built out of scrap wood (like an old school tree house) and thinking that would just be the greatest, most liberating experience. I know…I was a weird kid. Still am.
When saying good bye to my friend’s children, I accidentally told one of them that I’d never see them again. I was thinking it to myself as I was saying good bye, but I never meant to say it out loud. I immediately caught myself and acted like I was joking.
Smiles all around…everything’s just fine! 😣
Had to edit this post. I was in the wrong and it wasn’t fair for me to say some of the things I said. I am deeply sorry.