To the greatest mother in the world, mine...

You deserve better than me. I will never have enough words to tell you how sorry I am. I have put you through hell. I have done more to you than any parent deserves. For every time I called you a bitch (to your face or not), I am sorry. For every time I stole from you to support my selfish party girl life, I am sorry. For the night you found out your only daughter was a pill popping shell of herself, I am sorry. You have been my # 1 fan my whole life and I never saw it. I've spent more time than I care to remember being so angry at you. I've blamed you for every bad thing that has ever happened to me. It was easier for me to make you the bad guy than to accept the reality. I know you always did the best you could and I am so sorry I never recognized it.

I need not to question whether you'll forgive me. I know you already have. I don't understand why you would because I don't deserve it, but I digress. You used to always tell me that I loved my dad more than I loved you and it used to drive me crazy because it's just not true. I love my dad in different way. I've spent my whole life wanting more of him. Never having enough time with him and never putting enough effort into my relationship with him (I'm aware of how dumb that sounds). But I love you more. Because of his health issues or because I didn't live with him or because of my own fucked up mind, I've become accustomed to not having my dad. As horrible as it sounds, I know I can live without him. I can't imagine me without you.

From the beginning it’s been us against the world. I'm also sorry you got stuck with such a crappy partner. I firmly believe that after the “I'm sorry” should come the “thank you”. Thank you for never giving up on me, no matter how many times you said you would. Thank you for always believing that I am worth more than how I act. Thank you for never letting me give up on myself. Thank you for putting up with my lies and bullshit. Thank you for loving me, unconditionally.

One day I will become a mother. One day I will feel the love you've felt for me all of these years. One day (actually a lot of days) my kids will break my heart just like I have broken yours. I don't think I will forgive myself until that day. See, as much as it hurts me to have failed you, I know it hurts you more. We're still far from that day, but I know its coming. My only hope is that when it does, I have you by my side. I want more than anything to share those moments with you. I want to live a life that makes you proud of me.

I remember when I was little; I wanted so desperately to please you. I went through a phase where I rebelled against that instinct, but I know now that it was right all along. Neither one of us is perfect by far. There are still a lot of pent up resentments that make us lash out at each other. At least we're trying to get through it. The fact that, no matter what I do you still try to fix me, makes me love you more every day. I know I don't show it as much as I should, but I love you more than words can say. You are truly an exceptional mother and woman. I will spend the rest of my life trying to fill your shoes. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for all of this shit. Hold on to your faith in me, because God knows I have very little faith in myself.

Always yours,

Nani


Update: My relationship with my mom is still a work in progress but I'm happy to say that it is improving. Perhaps not remarkably or in a speedy fashion but, slow and steady wins the race.

To the bitch I once called my best friend...

You're a fucking cunt. Did you know that? I feel no need to say your name because you know who you are, and everyone who knows you also knows that you're a fucking cunt. I loved you you, truly. You were like a sister to me. I gave you everything I had, and maybe that was my mistake.

I ignored everyone who said you weren't worth shit. Ignorance is bliss I guess. Oh but darling how I paid for that ignorance. I trusted you. That's what hurts the most. I trusted you with everything and you stabbed me in the back with a smile on your face. I wish I could say that I hope someone does to you what you did to me, but that'll never happen. You'll never love or trust anyone enough to let them hurt you.

I do hope that you know you're a lying manipulative bitch though. I hope you know that you will never have a happy and fulfilled life until you change. I hope you know that despite everything I do forgive you. I hope you change.

In truth you are not a completely horrible person. I don't wish anything bad for you, but I can't forget all the times you fucked me over. Even if I could wrap my brain around the idea of being friends with you again, I know for a fact you'll just fuck up once more. Maybe I'm just an easy target for you. I mean, you do seem to prey on the weak hearted, and don't even try to act insulted because your record precedes you darling. All I ever wanted was for you to give a shit and not be a royal bitch. Now, before you spin off crying that I fucked up too, you're right I did. But mistakes or not I was your friend and I honestly cared about you, can you say the same?

I hope you take this the way it is intended and you change for your own good. Your looks and whorey vaginal talents will only get you so far in life. Grow up.

Sincerely,

One of the people who fell for your bullshit

My dad died

As you may have guessed from the “For my dad…” post, he died. I get that this may sound cold or detached but I don’t really know what else to day. What’s the term for when one of your parents dies? I’m not orphaned, my mom is still alive and kicking (my ass), and I didn’t lose him because to me that implies that this was somehow my fault. “He’s in a better place”, well I don’t know that. I have no clue where he is. He could still be at the terminal at the heaven airport or something. Who knows what happens. All I know for sure is that my dad died. It’s the only sentence that makes sense. The rest is still too messy for me to wade through, but I’m trying.

You also may have guessed I’m choosing to include you in that process. So far it hasn’t been what I expected. You see, I’ve been preparing for my dad’s death since I was very very young. He always had a cornucopia of semi-life threatening illnesses and he was never too keen on taking good care of himself. He smoked, in spite of his heart issues and a pulmonary edema in 2006. He ate whatever he wanted, in spite of him being diabetic since he was in his 30s.  He had multiple heart attacks, and was getting weaker by the day. Needless to say, I saw it coming.

Actually, I think my subconscious saw it coming long before I did. My dad got sick and died within a week after father’s day. I spoke to him for quite some time on that day and told him how much better I was feeling and that I felt that I was finally on a good path. He told me how much peace that brought him and in retrospect, it was probably the best “last” conversation we could’ve had.  The only problem with that is that I didn’t know it would be our last. There are so many things I wish I could’ve said to him and so many questions that I still need answered.

Like every daughter with a semi-absent father, I crave his approval more than anything. It is mainly because of this that I shut my dad out of most aspects of my life during the past few years. My reasoning was that I was making disapproving choices and it made no sense to break his heart when he couldn’t do anything to change it. I also figured that I would have time. I thought I’d be able to get my life back together and allow my dad back into it. I wanted to rebuild our relationship once I was a daughter he could be proud of. I thought I’d have the time to become close again. I thought, I thought, I thought…

The reality is, no matter how much I prepared for it over the years, I was completely unprepared. I have no idea how to deal with this or even how I’m supposed to feel about any of it. I try to write about it but everything is either too emotional to be useful, or so detached it seems cold. All I want is to ask my dad how to deal with this. I want one last chance to tell him all the things I didn’t get to say. I want to ask him all of the questions that will now go unanswered. I want to share with him the life I have, the person I love, and the life I hope to have. I want to know that he approves of me. I want to know that he is with me. I want to know that he is proud of me. I want my dad back.

Blogging...and why I seem to suck at it

I think we may have all noticed by now that I am not a good blogger. I may be a decent writer when I’m writing in a notebook and I know no one else will read it, but the Publish button seems to render me useless. The fear comes from knowing that the writing I like is the “bloody gross soul bearing” kind, but what if everyone I know reads those things about me.

I started this blog almost a year ago and I’ve barely posted enough to make for a post a week, but I don’t give up on it. I think I may be hoping that something will make me snap and lose my fear of other people’s judgments.

On to my next point;

The reason why I began to write here was because I was working on a book. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve completed it. You’ll be a lot less pleased to know I have no plans of trying to get it published. I realized, the more I worked on it, how much it was just my way of reconciling with my past and moving on to the next phase of my life. I also realized it’s not exactly something I want to send out to have it be rejected. It is my baby. It is the first thing I have ever completed in spite of myself. So on that note, I will not leave it up to the literary gods to choose whether or not my story gets out there. I’m going to post the letters in a series of entries and accept whatever may come of it.

Stay tuned…

If any of you are still tuned in that is….

For my dad...

I have nothing left of you. My entire memory of you is comprised of scattered moments throughout my early childhood, 2 summers and 2 Christmas vacations spread out over the last (almost) 23 years. I realize now how little I know about you. I don't know your favorite color, what kind of music you like, or even what cologne you wore. I don't remember the details of you. And now they're gone. Just like you. All I have left are my memories. All I can ever find out about you now are other people's perceptions of you and their memories of you. It seems like you've vanished into thin air. How is it possible for a person to simply cease to exist? I feel helpless. I feel abandoned. I feel angry. I feel betrayed. But worst of all, most of the time, I feel nothing at all. You have disappeared. It's so strange to me that even though I grew up mostly without you, I've always felt connected to you and now it seems like I'm left standing with the cable and nowhere to plug in to. Where are you? Can you even see me? Can you see that I am drowning? Not the kind of drowning that kills you and makes you instinctively fight to live. Instead I drown slowly. I let the soothing waves of nothingness extinguish me. Maybe then I'll find you. Maybe you've drowned in the nothingness too.


To be continued....once I'm feeling less morose...