Sixty-Seven

I'm working through a lot of issues I have with my dad. I don't understand how someone so educated in history and in writing, sides himself along Skidmarks and his fellow GOP-fellas. 

I think he's tinted all his stories and all his ideas through the Catholic Church, and the ridiculous importance of being married... I think he thinks the church is the end all, be all, of existence. I think he thinks I'll come around, eventually. I think he thinks I'll finally find my place if I'd only join a church... That the church is the only viable avenue of prosperity... The only way one can be successful... 

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There's a Robin Williams movie, Man of the Year... It has Robin's character liken politicians to NASCAR drivers... In that, the politicians wore what companies and ideas they represented. This concept really stuck with me.

...I have a jacket I like to wear in the colder months with a bunch of patches and art and pins that represent the things I am into... My leather jacket also has those cool pins. I get compliments on both, a lot, because they are unique coverings... A lot of others worry about their image and how they look or how they appear... I care about what I represent to others. How do I carry myself? And I get that, up until a certain point, I too care about how I'm perceived... But fashion has always been an armor for me. Something that always strikes a conversation... 

And I like expressing myself through clothing and being seen in an outfit I've constructed together... I like functional, wearable items that make life easier... I also like to make my life prettier. Also, if some things I wear upset you, the observer/reader... then look away. Lol. 

I can defy another's notion about me by wearing something different. That's the capacity I have for this No Kings movement... I will continue to defy people's notion of me. I will continue to stay true to myself and what I want to represent.

...

My dad knows of my past and mostly what I've gone through, more or less, of the emotional toll my life has taken. He has apologized for all the times he has yelled, but I haven't a distinct memory of him yelling. 

He confessed and thusly blamed me for his rocky marriage back in 2007... I was apparently tearing up "the family"... Meaning, Gerty's perfect family. I was living with them in their small house... Doing everything bad and being a bad influence on Brother, apparently. 

Gerty emotionally manipulated and abused us for a number of our collective, formative years.... Ol' Gerty--that bag'o'bones--conveniently forgot all of it now, so she doesn't have to apologize or admit wrong-doing... It's very nice for her. Meanwhile, my nervous system spikes and I become upset if someone uses their voice aggressively, or is maliciously passive-agressive. Or whenever someone wants to watch me clean... . I get a panic attack and shut down... I'm working on it... 

I know I'll never get an apology from her... I haven't spoken with her in ...3 or 4 years? Dad keeps us separate, I guess. It's easier for him to keep us separate and not talk... Or fight. Whatever is easiest for him. He never wants life to be messy. Lol guess where I inherited people-pleasing? Super glad I grew a spine in spite.

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...I am both looking forward to, and dreading, my family reunion. B will meet my extended family and understand me more... That my folks, my dad and stepmom, are the white sheep... 

I'm crap with keeping up with loved ones ...I'd love a set phonecall catch up, like a set date, once per month... But people are living their lives... Having kids. I never know what their schedule is... When's a good time? And religion always comes up... "Have you been to church?" ...no. My loved ones don't know me. If I complain to them, it will make my father look bad, and he'll have to spin doctor their perception... 

I had once suggested the set-date-concept to him, in an effort to better keep up, but he scoffed at me saying, "that would be impossible. There's no telling what my plans would be." ... Correct. Which is why I asked to be proritized by setting a date. Guh.

I offered a phone conversation for his birthday, and he chose a window of my time. He didn't call. He didn't text me different plans last minute. He just texted me in the afternoon not really saying sorry... But reiterating that I'm not a priority.

And I felt so defeated. I thought he wanted to catch up, but he just wanted to check in once a month to feel better about not checking in more... Like throughout my childhood, he did the bare minimum. Now I'm just a reminder in his phone once a month to check in... I doubt Gerty bugs him about me. She'd be happier if she got him first and we had never existed... Would've been better for Brother.

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I would 9000% keep my kid's set date phone call once a fucking month forever, if that was the only contact I was allotted. I haven't gotten an update in about 3 years. It doesn't kill me as much, anymore...... But I do wonder about them often. I hope they're ok. 

I have been told by my boss that a meeting that had been rescheduled 3 times, interrupting my task flow for the day, was the final time, but she had forgotten about, but chose over our meeting. I mean, whatever. It happens. 

... The fourth and final time was because my boss had a standing date with her daughter (awwww) and I thought that was WONDERFUL. Was I annoyed? Sure. But that fact made my heart melt and I instantly forgave her. I already respected tf out of them as parents, but damn. The level of integrity as humans who respect their kids' time is bananas to me. 

I certainly don't get that level of respect from my parents. 

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And then people just have a snap image of you, from when y'all last caught up. It could've been over a year ago... I could've changed. They could've changed... I definitely changed. ...people I'm leaving behind don't have the same level of respect for me or for their kids (young kids or their adult-children)... I'd find it very hard to believe that my father would respect my time (or existence) as much as another random shaved head queer woman stimming in public view... Ya know? If he can't respect humans, in general, how would I reflect respect to him? He still thinks he's the hero of the story...lol

I had to become my own hero. He wasn't a good example of masculinity to me. He may have thought he respected me, but that only goes as far as he respects women. 

...if he had married a Democrat, he'd have been a Democrat... That man fawns and people-pleases people around him to cushion his ego ... But he's never learned to sharpen his blade with deeper thoughts than the leaves changing colors in autumn. 

...

The day I realized I was autistic this entire time and I'm fucking proud of myself, was the day I became my true self. I kept wanting to better myself from then, on... My life was never ending immediately, but I can soothe myself. None of my parents learned to soothe me properly. The mother figures were always yelling and crying instead of soothing themselves. Talk about generational drama. 

They all have versions of me in their heads... But not my true self... So... I don't share my full self with them. That's it. That's my boundary. They don't respect me or my time? I'm used to it... But I won't give them my time when I'm stressed. I will not give in or roll over for such breadcrumbs, again. Ever. I will never make myself small again, for another's comfort. My loved ones love me as I am. That's pretty neat.

...

In life, I also needed to stay sane and ok. If something about my life wasn't working, I can say no; I can change it. I figured if I'm going to work most of life, I'd rather give my years to good people... And I finally found them. 

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I think because I wasn't a regular voice in his periphery, my father began his thought process of The Church being the answer for any question... His special interest is The Catholic Church, and whatever they say is the truth. Lol the one goal in life is to be a rich white man... That my dad fancies himself as a family man... To which family unit is he always thinking of? It's definitely not including me or Sister. Lol

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Once dedicated to an unbiased truth, about 2 decades ago, my father had advised us to listen to NPR at least an hour a day to keep in touch with the world and reality... And then faux news sucked them in... Gerty was already there with a conservative tether ... But my dad was always going to bow to his wife, not his children... 

A parent who puts their kid's needs above their own has my loyalty and respect.

......

Have you met a nine-year-old, recently? Have you said to yourself, "ah yes. I feel safe in leaving my infant baby with this said-nine-year-old." 

I am very lucky in that I never had to use infant CPR, but here we are... Have you met a nine-year-old and thought to yourself, "this person should get a job! What a free-loader!!" 

I don't have a lot of memories of being a child and playing with friends... I have memories of being yelled at, screaming matches with my sister, and taking care of Brother as a baby boy. My folks, my dad and stepmom, Gerty, made the joint-decision that both my sister and I will take a child-rearing class. A 9 and an 11 year old... And I've never forgotten. 

As I got older, I kept being pushed into corners and boxes, being told I should just accept such fate because that was the purpose of my body with a uterus; being someone's wife, and someone's mother. Nothing more. 

My BIL is completely unaware of himself and holds absolutely no authority in their household. I feel compelled to say something... But outside of sending him the book, "she comes first" idt it would be my place... 

What I feel I can do and be is become a safe haven with B and be a temporary place of refuge for my nibblings. ...a vacation spot away from their parents... That goes for B's nibblings, too... But he knows that... After our nuptials, they'll be my nibblings, too. 

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The other night, I was a bit sick, and B came to help me out. I didn't have to call for him. I didn't really need him, I have been on my own for many years... But it counted towards so much to know he has me on the brain, at a moment's notice. Even if I don't need him... He's still right there. I'm not taking that for granted. 

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I think my dad has the life he wants up until me... He is a man of faith, "nice & generous" are relative terms for him ...suave, charismatic. When he wants something, my dad is very nice... But never kind. I strive to be kind, unless you are unkind to others... Then you're fair game for ridicule.

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Brother has two daughters and one son, named after our dad... Dad had two daughters and a son, named after his father... They have children of their own, but he's unable to brag about all of them. He's never dealt with his shame and embarrassments. Thusly, he only really checks on his pride and joy, his favorite, Brother. He's not a mistake at all... He was planned, and loved from the start by TWO parents. I didn't have that. I have never had that.

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It's still kinda odd to me to be someone's priority... It feels false. It feels untrue. To hear from B that he's proud of me, is such a foreign term. 

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The fallacy of motherhood is a lie the older generation feeds to us as kids ... Shoves it down our throats in our early 20s before we have a sense of ourselves and what we really want as people.... that it's the only way to be an intrical part in society... To become a spouse, parent, and/or guardian. 

Like... does Dad expect one of us to take care of him in his old age? Why would he become a priority of mine when I was never a priority for him? 

......

Happy Birthday, father. You're 67. 

Snow.