Hey everyone! I first want to say I am sorry for not being active at all this week on here. I am about to start the last week of this term and since there are no breaks between this one and the next I am really trying to finish this term up early to create a small break for me next week. I find it very beneficial to have the few days off in between terms. Secondly, I have just been depressed this week (to be real with you) as I am sure you can tell by the title of this blog. I was told this week that I need to write for an audience of one-Me. My blogs are good but they are not my best because I am worrying too much about what people will think. So, in light of that wisdom that was bestowed to me this week, I am going to write just for me from now on.
“Forgetting pain is convenient. Remembering it, agonizing. But recovering the truth is worth the suffering.” Chesire Cat
Well, my ghost thoughts started on Father’s Day and then the week (not to mention my mind) just went to shit after that. I obviously have birth parents. I am not speaking about them though when I am saying mom and dad. I felt I should clarify that. I sure as hell am NOT going to talk about my birth father in relation to fucking Fathers Day!!! NOPE. . . I was depressed and grieving on Father’s Day because I lost a truly Great man, person, father, grandfather to my kids, and friend back in 2013. He was my husband’s father. His name was John and I am tearing up now just typing this. The pain never goes away, does it? I know it may be selfish on my end but I cant help and think why give me such a fucked up birth father and fucked up childhood, then at 17, give me dad. Then 13 unbelievably fast years later take him away??? WHY??? I know I should be grateful for just having those 13 years and I AM. But it just pisses me off. I mean, it makes me so filled with fury and rage. He was the most awesome person to talk to. We both shared a huge love for the Beatles and I will never forget our discussions about the members, songs, and analyzing their albums. Having a beer with him and playing Rook we made an awesome team together. We had our system and communicated without communicating and kicked ass being Rook team-mates because he was intuitive like me. He was a thinker like me too and he also had anxiety like me. At family get togethers we would give each other that mutual understanding smile, that I feel only a daughter and father can share. An understanding of- I see him and he sees me and yes this whole socializing thing you do on the holidays can be overwhelming but that’s what you do Emily when you have family like this that love each other. You get together and enjoy one another no matter the awkwardness of it. He encouraged me to write too. He also was a Stephen King fan like me!!!! I like to have fell out when I discovered this. So, of course we had those discussions and analyzed his books together because any real King fan knows there are all kinds of subtext and innuendos in King’s books. The tears are just flowing as I share this with you. My fingertips are growing cold and numb as I type and I wish this fucking loss I feel would. I watched endless baseball games, talked hours of baseball with them teaching me the game, players, teams, hell even the baseball fields, and every Monday night rain, snow, or shine, you can bet your sweet ass that dad was making chili and we are gonna be watching wrestling in those first years with my husband and dad. Oh, God how it fucking hurts not to have him here anymore and that HE’S not HERE to make those memories with his granddaughters now. And Gods how he loved his granddaughters. I cherished it so much having that male attention and affection from an awesome father figure that I had NEVER experienced in my life before. I never was really even comfortable around men nor trusted men until I met my husband (Mikey) and our brother (Jason) and our father.( Dad). You know what? I would fight the battles a hundred times over in my childhood again and again if it meant I would always receive the blessings I received at 17 years old. Growing up I would beg God and Jesus please send me someone to love me. I remember praying, “ Please let me have a good decent husband and children God please let me have that when I am an adult. I don’t care about money or anything else God if you would just give me a family that loves and really knows who I am and likes who I am and who encourages me to be who I am“… Ya know, I guess the universe knew what it was doing the whole time because I actually received my wishes and my prayers were definitely answered. Mikey (Real name Michael, and yes, like the Great Archangel Michael) swooped in and saved me when I needed it the most at 17. He became my best friend and I fell in love with him and his family. HIs father overheard my real mom’s husband (Not as horrifying as my birth father but still sorry as hell) on the phone one night saying “Get home to give me a blowjob. We are drunk and your mother says to come home. I need a blowjob.” This was in 2000 and back then houses had landlines. There was two in Mikey’s house. During that conversation I was yelling and crying into the phone and on the other phone Mikey and his parents were listening. They knew I was damaged enough. They knew I had so many fucked up problems and nightmares of my memories from my childhood when I stayed all night. Needless to say, when they observed my conversation, Mom and dad became outraged. They were adamant about me moving in and so I did exactly that. I never went back home for a night EVER again. I am 36 today. I do not know what would have happened that night if I had went home. My real mom was drunk and I know that she would not have let him touch me if she was awake but who knows if she would have been? I never found out and I thank God everyday for the family he sent me at a time when I needed them the most. I am sorry but I have shared enough for the night. I feel sick now and ashamed because of talking about my real father here and there and mentioning my childhood and the damage from it and now IM feeling those feelings even though I did not go into that much detail about my life with my real parents or mother’s husband….It was enough for now for me to share. Also feeling the loss of the one great father that I did have…uhh uhh. Too much. So, Thank you for reading my blog. Sorry to cut if off like this but I just can’t… anymore tonight.
I have read two awesome books this week. That is what I tend to do these days when I am down or haunted by my own miserable mind. I started that as a child but as I grew into a teenager I turned to drugs for times like this which turned into addictions. So, now that I am not spending my life that way, in the last couple of years I have turned back into a book addict. I read Trust Me and that was a disappointing end in it and I do not even remember the author’s name at the moment but I felt unsatisfied when I was finished with it. The second book I read was by one of my favorite authors Blake Crouch. The title of this one is Black Matter and I loved it. It is one of those books that create a lot of thought provoking “what ifs about what if the multiverse really exist” while you read it. I also loved his Wayward Pine series I read last year. I got another one by him this week , but I have not read it, called Recursion. The Silent Patient is my current book I started it today and LOVE IT. The author is Alex Michaelides and this is the first time I have ever read his book. I think it just came out this year. It is about a psychoanalysis who is working in an artist , a painter, that supposedly killed her husband. She was found with her own wrists cut deep at the murder scene and fingerprints on the murder weapon. It has been six years so far and she has not spoken since. She has done a self-portrait of herself though (I think this is a major clue in figuring out what happened that night) but I have not finished the book yet anyway. I still will not say anything else because no spoilers here folks. I hate spoilers so I will not give any away during any of my P.O.V.’s of books, shows, or movies in my blog. Well, thank you for coming and I hope you enjoyed this week’s only blog.