Last night, I was trying to fall asleep. Instead I was rehashing shit my dad’s girlfriend pulled before and after he died. Charming things such as trolling my blog, my friends’ blogs, telling my grandma his soul couldn’t rest because of how I was handling his estate, keeping all the money for herself (against his written wishes), not paying for the funeral, the strings of emails to my brothers and I giving conflicting information, keeping us all half informed.
Dad knew. We told him. In the year before he died, I flat out told him she was not to contact me. No calling, no emailing my personal account, my WORK account. Nothing. I got some bullshit whining about how he loved me and he loved her and blah blah blah.
It was all rehashing last night. I was trying to NOT remember things she had said and done. Resisting like pulling off a bandaid. Cringing against pain, against memories I didn’t want to feel out again. Hating that I was again spending sleepless nights on this topic.
I am a big girl. Fuck. This. I decided I was done. Done feeling this anger. Done spending time and emotion on this. Done. Fuck. Them. It was four years ago. I can not change the evil she did. I can not change his bad decisions. Yes she was fucking some local drug dealer two weeks after he died. Yes she made his funeral and his obituary all about how she was the “love of his life”. Yep. That all happened.
You know what else is happening? The rest of my life. I am done spending time on that part of mine. June 25, 2012. Done. I choose to say it no longer has the power to make me angry or bring me pain. Done.
Since I was done bringing emotion into it, I poked around at it some more.
I would never let a person I was dating treat Alex the way that woman treated us. If it happened, I would have that man’s shit thrown in the street before sunset. With signs up that said “FREE” and “Dear Neighbors, feel free to run over this stuff”.
Alex is more important. Treat him poorly, get the boot from my life. The end.
Dad apparently felt differently. No matter what other details may have been in play, he was an adult and he chose to stay with a person who continually hurt all the members of his family. I may not be at a point where I can understand or forgive that, but I AM at a point where I say to hell with letting that anger tighten my throat and not come out and ruin my day.
I took that woman’s evil. When she lashed out at me, I froze. I FROZE. I’ve hated myself for five years over taking her shit. No more. When faced with trying to survive pain, verbal abuse and fear, my options were fight or flight or freeze. My gut went with freeze. I’m done being angry with myself for how my instinct chose to survive.
It’s a new day. I’m kind of not okay. My chest and my throat are tense. Alex is on my nerve. I’m trying to write this out to get it out and he’s wanting attention. I’m wanting total quiet and anything but the fucking Sims playing on the Wii in the background. I am breathing, I am trying to make the next minute better. I am trying to find the quiet to ease this tension.
It’s up to me. I’m done with the fear and the anger and the bitter. I may have to shoot a lot of guns, clean a lot of toilets, scrub a lot of floors, have a lot of rough sex, watch a lot of funny movies for the belly laughs, throw a lot of punches, and run a lot of miles. Whatever. It is up to me and I am choosing to make things better from here on out.
Rock the eff ON, woman.
Kind of not okay is a step toward being completely okay. No shame. Click.
“Kind of not okay” is what I feel like more than I’d want to admit.
Proud of you for taking steps to work this shit out of your head. That hag doesn’t deserve to have any power over you whatsoever.