“A father is supposed to make it all better” “Sometimes you can’t son, sometimes all you can do is be there for her”
This is the dialogue I heard that kept me up since 9am yesterday. Causing insane waterfalls to flow from my face and insomnia to set in worse than finals week that first semester of sophomore year. You know the one, when you’re very existence staying at a school depends on bringing your gpa back up to a 3.0 so you can keep your scholarships after you blew off freshman year. When you are so afraid of being a college drop out that you can’t sleep even if you wanted to. This was worse.
Maybe I should back up, you see the theme song to this show goes a little something like this ‘bent or broken it’s a family tree each branch a part of a part of me and this is my tree and it’s a good old tree’. Between that playing in my head, the dialogue that pierced through my very existence, and watching this girl that is supposed to be totally messed up have all her dreams come true, I couldn’t take it anymore.
Everyone has a struggle and every one of us is a little different. I care so much about other people and making things okay for them that I lose myself in the process. It’s time to come clean. Every single day is a constant battle between remembering the good memories of my own dad – I was seven or under for those ones – and the shadowed memories that cloud the next fourteen years of my life.
The pain that I feel when I think about all of the times we would bail him out of jail or make sure he had clothes on his back and a little food to eat. Or when he would rather spend his birthday shooting dope than come see me and the cake that I saved up to make for him. All of the stage plays and lacrosse games he missed, not to mention both graduations.
I always wished I would have that movie moment where I look out into the crowd and see him standing in the back. For years I would avoid anyone asking me about who I came from. Avoiding all the kids that may have known him back when my good memories exist. The golden age. Not just golden because they were happy but because we were always outside!
He taught me to surf and to sail, hell he probably taught me to swim too. I’ve been swimming longer than I can walk so who knows. He taught me not to judge a man until you stepped into their shoes, and that life can rain on your parade – literally. He taught me to know directions based off of the ocean and the stars. He taught me what it feels like to lose someone who is quite literally a part of you.
The worst pain of all though, that was when I finally came to terms with the fact that he was gone and I hadn’t even answered his calls in an entire year. How could he forgive me? How could I forgive him? How could I ever live with myself? I still battle these questions and doubts on a daily basis and they surface in the strangest ways. Job hunting and feeling afraid to apply to a position because you aren’t worthy. Meeting new people and just knowing they will leave you. That something more important will always come along and you will be cast aside. Not wanting to look at yourself in the mirror because you look like him. Wondering why you bother to try if you’re a failure like him. Knowing you will never get to say sorry and it mean what you really want it to mean.
Do you ever have these bouts in life? Insomnia, depression, and anxiety takes over and it seems as if you cannot function any longer. I would love to hear your coping methods, I’ve taken a three hour nap in the past thirty six hours and now attempting to burn some lavender oil, keep the lights down low, and drink a little to get tired.
Personal Pondering of Mine 