Insomnia

I can't sleep and I'm listening to the jazz/swing station I created on Pandora. These two things usually lead to me writing another midnight note on facebook, but I have this blog now. How lovely.

So, this post will be wonderfully and delightfully vague because if you don't know who it's about, then you aren't supposed to. However, you will get my side of the situation and maybe respect me for it. Maybe not. Do I seem like the kind of person that lies when I say that I don't care what you think? I thought not...

However, this story begins when I was about... oh, seven or thereabouts. I had known you forever, and then you come to tell me that you're moving away. We were sitting in the backyard one day and you asked if I knew what that meant. I nodded. I  didn't see the real difference in you moving since we never saw much of each other anyway. But I adored you. The foolish child that I was adored you and loved you and wanted nothing more than you to love me back. But by all appearances and how you handled our little separation shows me that you probably didn't care as much as I did.

Now don't get me wrong, I know that the phone works both ways, but not knowing your schedule tends to complicate things. Besides, I knew that you would be busy and you'd call when you had the chance, right?

I'm only starting to realize how naive I was. I thought that you had some sort of personality quirk resembling a conscience. I thought that you really loved me like you said. I thought for so long that you called because you really did miss me, not because you were drunk. Yeah. I know. One of your pretty little dirty secrets. Maybe that's why you got so sick? Yeah, I knew about that. I always thought it was funny when you repeated something five times, even after I told you in all honesty that I understood. I thought that you were joking with me, trying to bond with me. I fell for that self-inflicted ruse better than you could have ever expected.

Don't get me wrong, I still loved you. I want to love you still, but there's only so much that I'm willing to put up with. And do you honestly take me for that much of a fool? Do you really think that I was raised so that I would take every line of yours like the gospel truth just because of who you are? No. No, I was raised with the belief, the firm belief, mind you, that I didn't have to take that from anyone, even you. I'm done with the lies. I'm done with wanting to love someone that I can't rely on. I am finished. Do you understand?

I didn't think you would. You're sitting at your computer, mouth agape and face slowly reddening with rage because this way, you can't get a word in. You can't talk louder than me here. You have no imagined power here. You are helpless. And while I have your undivided attention, because wimping out on me now isn't an option, I want you to know that despite my better judgement, everything that I know and want, something inside of me still loves you, still wants you to be in my life. But that's just a little part. Very easily silenced by the parts of me that would feel nothing but purest relief that I don't have to wait on your phone call to be fed my yearly allotment of lies and insincerity.

Now, if I'm wrong, and I'm almost certain that I'm not, then we'll kiss and make up. I'll forgive, but you'll have to prove that things are going to change before I pretend to forget. Do you have any idea how our negative relationship has affected me? Do you know the stupid things I've done to attempt to capture some semblance of the love I should have had from you? No, you have no idea, because if you did... Well... Things would be a little more interesting and you would be a little less apathetic.

This is just scratching the surface on our wonderfully dysfunctional relationship. Sick, isn't it? And just think, it could have all been avoided if you had some semblance of human emotion concerning me. Just so you know, the next time something goes sour and we end up sideways, I want you to step in and let me know that you have a problem, not have your cronies attack me through facebook messages. That's horribly juvenile and not even acceptable in the cliques in junior high. I handled them as best as I knew how, but they should have never been brought into it. If you have a problem, you tell me. In case you never noticed, I grew up. I'm not in the second grade anymore. The bangs I had have grown out, not that you even registered the fact that I ever had them. I got a little taller. I haven't worn overalls or Arizona jeans in years. I'm not the little girl you used to know, if you even knew her. I'm grown. I don't pretend to know everything, but I know my shortcomings. Our relationship is one of them. I intend on either fixing it or forgetting it. It's your call which I do. I can't do either of them alone, so step in, step up, and man up. Make a decision. I'm not letting you overlook this. I don't care how long you have to sit in front of your computer and how many words you have to look up. I'm emailing you this link, texting it to you, and sending a link via your beloved facebook. Get the picture? All else fails, I'll call you and read you this long emotional passage myself with dry eyes.

I'm done crying over you, do you understand? I cried when you left, I cried when we got off of the phone, I cried years later when you said that you were proud of me. I am done. Do you understand that concept? It never felt like you did. The oddest part of this is that this post is another step that I'm taking towards the door, and my eyes are dry. I feel better now that I'm telling you. I feel so much better that it's unbelievable. If I had known that it would feel this good to give you this ultimatum, I would have done it sooner.

My letters and notes and emails and notes and such about you always drag on forever. Maybe that's because we never talked about anything of substance. All we ever seem to talk about is what you're tinkering with, how little of a social life I have, and empty gestures of affection. I'm sick of the small talk. We need to get past this one way or another. I've given up on the idea of anyone reading past this far anyway. Who has the time to waste reading my blathering nonsense? Why not give up the ruse and let everyone know who I'm talking about? Who I'm talking to? Why wait and let you have a chance to step up and be a man if you won't take it? I don't care what this does to your pride or your ego or your precious little life that you have now. I'm starting to realize that I never cared.

Before I get ahead of myself and show you how beneficial breaking this sick relationship off would be for you, I want you to know a little something. You taught me how to use people. Yes, that's all on you. You taught me that people only exist when you want them to. You can call someone to assuage your guilt whenever you feel like it if you have them convinced that they love you. You can send someone a message to tell them that you're so proud of them and that you smile when you say their name when you want to take part in their success. When you want to show off and say, "Wow. Look what I have..." and you flash a picture of someone that you've barely spoken to in years... That's what people are for. That's why I let you buy me expensive things. Shiny things that sometimes, I have no need of. I let you, no, encouraged you, to buy me the expensive things that I need. I let you pick up the tab for most of my electronics. Not because no one else can/would get them for me, but because I was letting you buy my affection. Those few days, I would pretend to love you, and you would indulge me whatever shiny toy I wanted just because I batted my eyelashes and begged like a cute little girl. Do you know how easily I did that? Do you know how easy you made it? Do you know how happy it made me? Did it do anything for you at all?

No, don't answer that. You'd only lie.

Now there I go, attributing emotions and actions to you. I barely know you. Maybe what we need is to take a few days and meet each other for the first time? Grab some coffee and talk for a while? I don't know anything about you. Well, I take that back. I know your little nuclear family now. Well, sort of... I know their names, and I'm fond of one of them, and I hope she doesn't hold any of this against me. She's precious and has no place in this. But that's for another time.

Now, I'm going to send you messages through every means of communication but a phone call. That's for tomorrow. If you read it before then, please let me know. Because we do need to talk. This is nowhere near all I have to say to you.

Now for me to return what I feel was always a lie coming from you. This will be my goodnight. Maybe I'll be able to sleep now that I have all of this tension and heartache and longing and such put up for the world. I certainly do feel better. Here is where I smile, tip my hat, and say:

I love you, Daddy.

You Don't Know Me

You don't know me.

Stop and take a second to let that sink in. I don't care how long we've known each other. I don't care how we met or what you mean to me or I to you.

You don't know me.

How many times have I called you in the middle of the night, crying my eyes out and needing your help? How many times have I asked you how to make it all go away? How many times have I told you why I don't like burdening you with my problems? Do you even know what my problems are?

You don't know me.

But I know you. I know why you were so worried but wouldn't tell anyone because if they knew, you would have been stigmatized. I know that you don't actually know what stigmatized means. I know what a small person you are on the inside because of what you write on other people's wall posts. I know how naive you are. I know how you think that people have the same negative view of you that you yourself have. I know what he did to you all those years back. I know everything about you that I need to know.

I know you.

But you don't know that I was just as worried as you were. You don't know that when that word confuses you that I'll tack an explanation on the end to make you think that was my intention all along to make you feel better. You don't know that I wish that I could be that small of a person and let everyone with a third grade vocabulary know exactly what I think. You don't know that I wish I were as naive as you, so that all of those innuendos would mean nothing and I could keep from worrying. You don't know that I wish I could pretend to be as confident as you are. You don't know how furious I was that since he died, I can't kill him myself like I'd planned all these years. You don't know anything about me.

You probably don't even know that every sentence is about someone else entirely.

This sounds like I'm smug and mocking you, but this is just the beginning. You will know everything there is to know.

Eventually.

Just For Starters

     This post isn't for what I haven't said. This is for the things that I have said one too many times. No, not the usual melodrama here. I'm going to be honest and straightforward and I expect nothing less from your comments if you deign to leave them. I'm not here to start drama, or even condone it for that matter. I think that it's a bit ridiculous that I'm only twenty and have less passion for drama than some who are much older than myself. I am not writing for anyone but myself. Let that sink in for a moment. I have your ear, or your eyes if you'd like that term better, because you have seen fit to give them into my care. If what I have to say offends you or bores you (and I would actually rather it be in that order), then please, make use of that little x and get rid of this. I'm not forcing you into anything.

    I'm here to have a sounding board for the thoughts in my head that concern my life. I've been working on getting my hellishly cluttered room cleaned lately and it's still a work in progress. When I started throwing out the things that I never want to see again, I started thinking about my life. Then, while I was physically removing things like broken hangers and old papers and mangled stuffed animals(I have a moderately vicious cat), I started doing the same thing in my mind, so to speak. The only difference was that I was tossing out habits in myself that I loathe instead of the broken hangers,  forgetting old hurts instead of putting the papers in a bag to burn, and evaluating relationships instead of deciding whether or not the teddy bear could stay if given serious surgery.

     Now that you know why I'm here, I think it only fitting that I share a few things about myself. These may or may not change due to the inherent natures of the traits and habits and descriptions, but then again, they may not.

     The first thing that you should know about me is that I'm starting to change who I am. Before now, I lived to be who everyone needed me to be. I was the steady best friend, the devoted and attentive daughter, the role model sister, the reliable one. I never really started to chose who I would be. But now that I'm home from college for the summer, I'm starting to realize that who I am when I'm on my own and who I am when I'm not are two completely different people. The jokes that were funny in high school, aren't. The antics that I used to go along with hold no further interest for me. I have essentially forgotten how to enjoy things so juvenile. I am slowly and steadily trying to change for what I deem to be the better. I am working on a more professional look and countenance.

    There are people that I have a less than healthy relationship with. Those relationships will come to light at the appropriate time for me to deal with them, no sooner, no later. The posts dealing with those relationships will be highly personal and I do realize that I am opening them up to scrutiny when I do decide to delve into them. This is not my way of asking for help or sympathy. This is only a way of getting what I think out there and open to self-evaluation. Essentially, I will be counseling myself on such matters considering the lack of progress that I have made when I sought professional psychological counseling.

     I realize that people who I am not on friendly terms will probably come snooping around and read this. I know that I am not exempt from this. I know of several highly personal sites that I have poked around on for the fun of seeing into someone's head. In fact, I am expecting this. I only hope, dear reader, that you are prepared to see all of what I'm willing to show you. Some of you, I suppose will have psychological backgrounds or interests, at the very least. Feel free to diagnose or attempt to treat me at any time. I will pretend that we are on equal ground and we can see who has a greater knowledge of the concepts and who has a better grasp of how to put them into use. I could use a good mind game or seven.

     I feel that describing who you are by including a few interests and sharing quotes that you hold close to your heart is a bit vague and leaves open a very wide door for misunderstanding and misrepresentation. Hypocrisy is rampant. Who I really am will become heavily evident in the following posts as I explore both my relationships with the rest of society and with myself. I'm looking forward to learning more about myself and learning to write where I can be understood by even the most uneducated. Please, if you have a comment about my writing style, leave it for me. I crave criticism, be it positive or 'constructive'.

     I guess that this is goodbye for now.