He told me not to be afraid of what I have to put on the page. I’ve needed to think, to be almost alone with my thoughts to make a true and permanent plant in the ground with my foot, depending on myself to make this time, the time.
After I found out that my mother was and did return to Bali I completely cut off communication with both of my parents and for the first time ever they left me alone and there was zero contact but instead of it making me feel better like I thought it would it just made me feel lonely and I realized my life didn’t work well without them in it and my depression hit another intense low.
It has been an extremely interesting couple of months. I was as angry as I ever remember myself being very self destructive very medicated at the edge of the cliff rocking back and forth on my heels but when I finally fell I found myself free. There have been a lot of times over the years when I thought I’ve been over it, thought I was ready to move on from the past and really leave it there, write about it but not in any angry way or from any sort of blaming perspectives just to tell a story how I remember it. With all the things I have said about my parents on this blog over the years I’ve never painted myself as the perfect daughter. I’d say I was hardly hard to handle but still having a kid is having a kid and I was no angel.
I really had to look at my unhealthy attachments with the two of them realize and really accept that what’s done is done and sure I think I deserve more than we just remember things differently but after years of trying I’ve finally put that behind me and gotten to the point of forgiveness and have fully entered the real process of mourning the loss of the ideal parents to the point of seeing things that came before me like my father’s relationship with his parents, and my mother’s with hers, where she lived in a very interesting dynamic as a child. As well I have to accept that there is also the process of my parents having to mourn the loss of not having the ideal child. Regardless of the job they did I know they didn’t imagine a thirty-one year old pot head unemployed housewife who doesn’t even cook with no savings and large arm tattoos as the ideal kid. But right now that’s me.
I’m ready for this journey, my father and I will butt heads there is no question but just because we get upset with each other doesn’t mean I have to flip out and stop talking to them, those days are over, the lines of communication are fully open, the three of us and now four of us have been through the wringer a few times but life is too short not to come out the other side and say fuck you to the wringer.
