Monday, April 30, 2007

And So He Slinks In, And Crawls Right Back Under His Rock

Saw that my "guest" was here at 2:45 and promptly left after reading my heartfelt love letter to him. Then the slimey little coward went back under his rock. If I was him, I wouldn't want to be reading my opinions about him either. They must sting a bit, even though he has gotten them first hand from me. So surprised he was, his meek little daughter, um, not so meek. Just putting up way more than she should for wayyyyyyy too many years.

But, looks like I am safe from another visit from Mr Coward I Just Shit in My Pants, and do not therefore need to weave fantastical stories for your benefit. I was actually sweating it out over this, but looking somewhat forward to it. I have never really written a fictional story before, so I was going to go with it.

Would probably make a good writing exercise for me.

As usual, my "visitor" has put me in a "black" mood. Just knowing that his pressence was reading my words is enough to send me into a rage. The chant that goes through my head "IS HOW COULD YOU HOW COULD YOU HOW COULD YOU......." Why am I so mad at him? What does it matter? I would swear that I have no feelings for him, I think it's the disappoinment in never having a "him" or a "her" that I felt safe with? Not like physically safe, though truth to hell, my father slamming a fairly solid chair down next to me scared the bejeezes out of me, and it was for nothing major. It explains where my dish breaking or figurine breaking habit came from early on, but then I realized "if I break things I like, then either I have to buy and replace them, or I just don't have them anymore". Hmmmm. Plus, it's not a real nice thing to do to my then boyfriend, now poor husband:) Oh, the things he has endured with me .

Wow, did I used to have a temper. I have flare ups every now and again, but nothing like I was in my twenties. It's hard to say whether it was the bipolar at work, or just the way I was taught to cope by dear old dad. Undoubtedly, both were working in harmony. Bipolar is a real internal thing for me, perhaps the only one who may have seen it at it's best, and says he never realizes anything is happening is my husband. I just take myself out of commission if I feel like that. When I was working in corporate america, those were the days when my door was closed, music was on, and the "do not disturb" sign was on the door LOL. Really didn't need the sign. That's why some docs believe I have cyclomania as I am fully functioning, and really it's just the depression that is the worst with me. It mainly affects me, and other people would just think I was very busy that day, which of course I was. Busy actually seems to help it, it's when I don't have enough work that I HAVE to get done right now, that it starts to creep in.

The other thing that really tends to set it off, is my immediate family. Ugh. I wish I could just shut off those feelings of complete white hot anger and rage. Deep breathe deep breathe. Yeah, that helps, and exercise. And especially my tae boe punching bag is always good for a few swift punches to someone's face without actually doing something so way inappropriate.

How is it that this family member is always sniffing about when I do the now rare family dysfunctional post? Hmm, maybe they have a search on one of my tags, but they really aren't that computer savvy. Such is why they probably never realized that I was fully aware when they were checking out my blog. Gosh, dad's never had a harsh word from me until that day in October 2005. Must be such a shock to see obscenities meant with him in mind. Boo fucking hoo. He's probably already calling the family to see he if can get me disinvited from the reunion, or making cryptic messages to family members about why he and BA monster can't go.

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