Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Wicked Wednesday


My Valentine's Day poem fest released an amazing amount of anger for me. Especially at the sperm donor and egg donor. I am beginning to think I have only tapped a bit of the surface of my anger at the monster. No matter how much I try to convince myself that it's probably my dad I am angry at, it is still her that most of my anger is directed. Perhaps because I on some level buy the fact that he is soooo stupid and clueless that the things he has done have indeed not been deliberate. I say that knowing he deliberate does things so his life is easy, and could give a fig about what that does to anyone else.

What the BA monster has done is deliberate and intentional, and meant to be so. Plus, I had no other link to her in the past that would cause her to go after me the way she did. It was just plain meaness on her part. There is also no way to call her out on it. No matter how wrong she is or was, she just doesn't care. If no one else sees her way, suddenly she might have cancer, or her asthma has been acting up, or she was thinking about her son dead for 15 years now (not that I am belittling that, Josh was a good kid. He was the only one who used to come talk to me after she would be horrible to me). So there is now way to imagine that some day you are going to reason with her.


Except maybe one way........in a Stephen King fiction novel kind of sense.....


I was so scared when I was nineteen. Scared my family was being taken away by the monster. (not realizing that I should have kissed her on both cheeks and taken off RUNNNNNNIIIINNNNNGGG immediately) But being alone with no real support, and thinking (in error I admit) that I would someday be able to count on my father for some show of support on something. Some comfort or understanding. Or, dare I say it, love? I do think I blamed her at first for his lack of .....humanity. Even though even in my childhood, there was no evidence of this humanity. Except maybe that time that he bought me Duran Duran tickets on my sixteenth birthday pre-the monster introduction. That meant he actually DID pay attention and know SOMEThING about me (to this day, I still love their music LOL) . I think at that time he was visiting a therapist that was telling him to do nice things for his daughter. I remember a thank you card after raking the leaves one day, and him proudly telling my mother that he did as the therapist said. Sigh, there is no one in that shell. I am sure he cries as he tells people his daughter won't talk to him. How he loves her. "Blah blah bladity blah blah". It's only as a possession, and a possession that was supposed to care for him when he got old and feeble.


Any way, I am delaying the telling of my dark thoughts. So here it goes, I sometimes fall asleep thinking of the BA Monster strapped to a chair with duct tape, as someone (perhaps me) tapes up her mouth and one nostril (see she has asthma) and waits expectantly for the terror to kick in. Oh, and there might be a pillow case rubbed all over a bunch of cats involved to speed along the process.


Yikes, huh? Not anything I would do for those who have not been following along. However, this is how my imagination has shelved a large amount of anger on an ongoing basis, especially right after the Beyatch wouldn't take no about my property sale, and her not being the agent of our choice. Truth be told, that estrangement from my father, was a loooonnnnnnnngggg time in coming. And when he got old and asked me to take care of him, it was pretty much going to happen at least then. Save your money, old man. Save well. And if you have it, great, perhaps stop buying the monster 60,000 cars every three years. Cause, here it is, you are going to need the money to pay strangers to take care of you. Oh, and even if the monster is physically fit, I think we all know it's not going to be her, unless you have some money of your own that you haven't blown on her to donate? Cause that's the only way she will degrade herself for you. She wouldn't even do it for her own father. And she did it for your mother, because she was going to get the house, and apparently part of her money that allowed her the new Lexus. So sad that instead of my grandmother's money going to a place where she could have been more comfortable, her family instead had her sign over her house years ago, so you could all buy corvettes and Lexuses. So much more important than an old lady's comfort. Such concern you showed for her as you divided up her assets in front of her while she was still alive and at the last Easter function at her house. How classy!!! How caring of your mother who didn't buy expensive material things so she cold stretch the buck as much as possible for her family. Then you complained that she gave the maid some pieces of gold. A maid that you hired for her by the way. Guess you didn't get to have the full packages on your new cars that you might like. No satellite radio for you, huh? It was particularly amusing to watch you all paw through the jewelry for the "gold necklace" that was worth at least $500.00. At my youngest without any money and not being able to afford the groceries I wanted, I was not so rabid.


But here is the funny part. You and the monster are so alike about money and material possessions, that I wouldn't sleep with my eyes closed on each other. I suspect at least one of you wouldn't mind being single right now to find her (oops) new sucker (oops man). So I get mad at being cut off from this family, why??????????????/


Okay, rant and another dark secret sacrificed to the Gods:)

2 comments:

crse said...

oh god. my fantasies are more about public humiliation. And i realized that its not because i am gentle. Its because i think she would feel righteousness from being killed. Lets her play the victim one last time. In my fantasies? the entire world sees through her bullshit. But sometimes i just want to smack her face.

winterskibunny said...

Oh, I don't want to kill the monster, but want to manufacturer the feeling of helplessness that I felt years ago. When someone could have been my friend and there for me, instead was out to isolate me from the beginning.

More and more are starting to see through her bullshit, but I want HER to see through her bullshit to the ugly person she really is. Sades of Dorian Grey, you know?