Lately I have felt sad. Like crying for no reason. I can't though. I can never cry for no reason. Someone always wants to know what is wrong and why. Everyone thinks there has to be a reason for someone to cry. I think sometimes... You just need to get it all out. Sometimes you just need to cry, even if your not sure of the reasons why.
Mothers day was a rough day. I felt unappreciated, as usual. That got better as the day wore on. It was still a rough day. I wanted to cry for Tim, who no longer has his mother to call and wish a happy day. I wanted to cry for my mom, who does so much for everyone else, but never puts herself first. Then for some reason I found myself thinking about my dad... Jim.
From as early as I can remember, Jim was my dad. I called him daddy, he was there when I fell to pick me up. He took me to the mall on the weekends and McDonalds. He let me buy a toy at the toy store, but not before I sat with him at the book store first. He learned quickly my feet hurt after that toy was bought.
Jim was there to teach me to ride my bike, took me to hobby shows, I met Andre Dawson (cubbies) and Lou Brock. When I was seven or so, Jim adopted me. He paid money and signed papers saying he wanted to be my father. My dad. He vowed to love me and support me as his child. I had always known I had a father who had passed away when I was very small, but in my heart, Jim was my dad.
When Jim and my mom separated he started drinking again. He had been a recovered alcoholic for 10 years or so. He quit that when my mom told him it was us or the beer. When he chose to move back to Wisconsin and my mom did not want to go, he started drinking again. Drinking takes over a person when its all they do. I know this, and I think its one of the main reasons I very seldom drink.
I went to Wisconsin to visit him once when I was about 12 or so. Stayed I think a week. Nothing really exciting there. I think I had more fun visiting with cousin Sara than I did dad. I remember my mom called him and asked him if he was sitting down, when she felt that she needed to tell him I was pregnant at 15. He came around my birthday when I was 6 months along and he bought me maternity clothes.
On his way home back to Wisconsin, he got put in jail for a DUI offense. Destiny's father and I went to visit him when she was about 10 months old. He was so proud that he had vacuumed before we came... He didn't realize she'd be walking I guess. He spent most of the visit drunk, his house was that of what a hoarders would be. His girlfriend went to the store and bought all kinds of food even though his pantry was full of things that could have been eaten.
After that I had not talked to him for quite some time. I sent a letter at one point with my new number when it changed, and I think I asked if he could send me some money and even if not, to please write me back or call. I never got a response. Until of course they needed to get a hold of me, to find out where my mother was... You see I am now 31, my mom and dad parted when I was 10, yet they are still to this day... Legally married. Strange yes I understand.
So when they needed to get a hold of me, to find my mother... They must have been able to suddenly undig the letter, with the phone number. Linda or Lisa or whatever her damn name is told me my dad was napping but she would wake him up. He got on the phone and we talked a bit. I was pregnant with bailey (who turns 10 next month) at the time. At one point during the middle of my conversation with him he said "Clorie??? Is that YOU talking?" He was drunk off his ass, he'd not been napping he'd been passed out. Did he even remember this conversation? Did it matter to him? Did I? Not anymore that was obvious. I hung up and I have yet to have ever spoken to him again.
I think I wrote him a letter, telling him I felt like he had just dumped me and not given a single shit about anything anymore. That he was a loser who would never meet his grandkids and he was too drunk to give a shit about any of it... I am not sure, honestly weather or not I ever sent that letter, and if I had, if it even got to him. Regardless, I wonder how you can just forget, about everything you had, everything you did. How do you just forget about a person you RAISED. Sure maybe I am not and never was his flesh and blood, but I didnt think that mattered, maybe it did.
So is it the beer? The alcohol that caused him to not give a shit. Was it my mom the whole time, that made him even want anything to do with me in the first place. How do you just give up and forget about someone, flesh and blood, friend, daughter, child. How do you do that?
So currently I have no idea where he is, or what he's doing or if he's even alive any longer. Last I heard he spent from sun up, to pass out drinking. That he drank beer, and didn't even eat anymore. That he was skin and bones. He had gotten so many DUI's he no longer has his license. That he moved closer to General Motors so that he could walk to work. When your life has gone that far into the shitter, I guess you give up everything else. I know its not me, I am not the reason that he's forgotten. I still wonder... The moment he wakes up, those seldom times when he is slightly sober, does he think about me. Does he wonder how I am, if I am alive. Does he wonder what type of life I live, how I am raising my kids. Does he, for that split second... care? Has he ever thought of writing me back... Would I even bother opening the letter if he did?
I talked to his sister a while back. After finding her number online. I called, she answered and then I hung up. She called me back (caller ID now a days) We talked a bit and I did find out what I just said about him, that he was alive, drinking and not doing much else. When at one point she told me she wished my mom would have never left him... Because her leaving caused him to drink again... We all know that my mom did not hold a bottle to his mouth and cause him to drink again. Its always easier to blame someone else though I suppose.
So I sit here and I wonder, why. Why just so recently does this matter so much to me? I lost a baby to an ectopic pregnancy, over 10 years ago, and to this day I sometimes think about what that baby would have been, how old, what we would have nammed her or him, would it have been a boy or a girl, so I wonder how you can just forget about someone that was a big part of your life. Part of you. Your fucking daughter for God's sake. Blood or not, I was, his daughter. How do you just forget that? Why do I care that he forgot that. Why is it bothering me so much here lately.
My kids have awesome grandparents on Tims side. They are not even really the girl's grandparents. You would never know it. They are all treated just the same. They are all loved, and I know, they will never just be forgotten. I don't need Jim in my life and quite frankly since he's a drunken bum more or less, I don't even want him in my life. So why is this bothering me. Why now?
So no blog for weeks and then I slam this one out there. I hate alcoholism. I feel like I am surrounded by it. My mom drinks quite often... Not sure weather or not she's got that many problems, her boyfriend, is hitting the bottle again, or still, after nearly dying when quitting around the time Bailey was diagnosed with cancer. Every friend I have wants to "go out" to bars, or sit around the house and drink for a good time. I don't want to drink. I want to live life sober, I want to take a hike or drive or bike ride, or be able to get in my car if my kids need stitches or need a ride to the store. Being drunk is just dumb, it takes your life away and ruins things and makes you not care about things that are important. I am important. I should be cared about, I should be missed, I should get at least letters asking me how I am. I am not as important as beer though, apparently.
Mothers day was a rough day. I felt unappreciated, as usual. That got better as the day wore on. It was still a rough day. I wanted to cry for Tim, who no longer has his mother to call and wish a happy day. I wanted to cry for my mom, who does so much for everyone else, but never puts herself first. Then for some reason I found myself thinking about my dad... Jim.
From as early as I can remember, Jim was my dad. I called him daddy, he was there when I fell to pick me up. He took me to the mall on the weekends and McDonalds. He let me buy a toy at the toy store, but not before I sat with him at the book store first. He learned quickly my feet hurt after that toy was bought.
Jim was there to teach me to ride my bike, took me to hobby shows, I met Andre Dawson (cubbies) and Lou Brock. When I was seven or so, Jim adopted me. He paid money and signed papers saying he wanted to be my father. My dad. He vowed to love me and support me as his child. I had always known I had a father who had passed away when I was very small, but in my heart, Jim was my dad.
When Jim and my mom separated he started drinking again. He had been a recovered alcoholic for 10 years or so. He quit that when my mom told him it was us or the beer. When he chose to move back to Wisconsin and my mom did not want to go, he started drinking again. Drinking takes over a person when its all they do. I know this, and I think its one of the main reasons I very seldom drink.
I went to Wisconsin to visit him once when I was about 12 or so. Stayed I think a week. Nothing really exciting there. I think I had more fun visiting with cousin Sara than I did dad. I remember my mom called him and asked him if he was sitting down, when she felt that she needed to tell him I was pregnant at 15. He came around my birthday when I was 6 months along and he bought me maternity clothes.
On his way home back to Wisconsin, he got put in jail for a DUI offense. Destiny's father and I went to visit him when she was about 10 months old. He was so proud that he had vacuumed before we came... He didn't realize she'd be walking I guess. He spent most of the visit drunk, his house was that of what a hoarders would be. His girlfriend went to the store and bought all kinds of food even though his pantry was full of things that could have been eaten.
After that I had not talked to him for quite some time. I sent a letter at one point with my new number when it changed, and I think I asked if he could send me some money and even if not, to please write me back or call. I never got a response. Until of course they needed to get a hold of me, to find out where my mother was... You see I am now 31, my mom and dad parted when I was 10, yet they are still to this day... Legally married. Strange yes I understand.
So when they needed to get a hold of me, to find my mother... They must have been able to suddenly undig the letter, with the phone number. Linda or Lisa or whatever her damn name is told me my dad was napping but she would wake him up. He got on the phone and we talked a bit. I was pregnant with bailey (who turns 10 next month) at the time. At one point during the middle of my conversation with him he said "Clorie??? Is that YOU talking?" He was drunk off his ass, he'd not been napping he'd been passed out. Did he even remember this conversation? Did it matter to him? Did I? Not anymore that was obvious. I hung up and I have yet to have ever spoken to him again.
I think I wrote him a letter, telling him I felt like he had just dumped me and not given a single shit about anything anymore. That he was a loser who would never meet his grandkids and he was too drunk to give a shit about any of it... I am not sure, honestly weather or not I ever sent that letter, and if I had, if it even got to him. Regardless, I wonder how you can just forget, about everything you had, everything you did. How do you just forget about a person you RAISED. Sure maybe I am not and never was his flesh and blood, but I didnt think that mattered, maybe it did.
So is it the beer? The alcohol that caused him to not give a shit. Was it my mom the whole time, that made him even want anything to do with me in the first place. How do you just give up and forget about someone, flesh and blood, friend, daughter, child. How do you do that?
So currently I have no idea where he is, or what he's doing or if he's even alive any longer. Last I heard he spent from sun up, to pass out drinking. That he drank beer, and didn't even eat anymore. That he was skin and bones. He had gotten so many DUI's he no longer has his license. That he moved closer to General Motors so that he could walk to work. When your life has gone that far into the shitter, I guess you give up everything else. I know its not me, I am not the reason that he's forgotten. I still wonder... The moment he wakes up, those seldom times when he is slightly sober, does he think about me. Does he wonder how I am, if I am alive. Does he wonder what type of life I live, how I am raising my kids. Does he, for that split second... care? Has he ever thought of writing me back... Would I even bother opening the letter if he did?
I talked to his sister a while back. After finding her number online. I called, she answered and then I hung up. She called me back (caller ID now a days) We talked a bit and I did find out what I just said about him, that he was alive, drinking and not doing much else. When at one point she told me she wished my mom would have never left him... Because her leaving caused him to drink again... We all know that my mom did not hold a bottle to his mouth and cause him to drink again. Its always easier to blame someone else though I suppose.
So I sit here and I wonder, why. Why just so recently does this matter so much to me? I lost a baby to an ectopic pregnancy, over 10 years ago, and to this day I sometimes think about what that baby would have been, how old, what we would have nammed her or him, would it have been a boy or a girl, so I wonder how you can just forget about someone that was a big part of your life. Part of you. Your fucking daughter for God's sake. Blood or not, I was, his daughter. How do you just forget that? Why do I care that he forgot that. Why is it bothering me so much here lately.
My kids have awesome grandparents on Tims side. They are not even really the girl's grandparents. You would never know it. They are all treated just the same. They are all loved, and I know, they will never just be forgotten. I don't need Jim in my life and quite frankly since he's a drunken bum more or less, I don't even want him in my life. So why is this bothering me. Why now?
So no blog for weeks and then I slam this one out there. I hate alcoholism. I feel like I am surrounded by it. My mom drinks quite often... Not sure weather or not she's got that many problems, her boyfriend, is hitting the bottle again, or still, after nearly dying when quitting around the time Bailey was diagnosed with cancer. Every friend I have wants to "go out" to bars, or sit around the house and drink for a good time. I don't want to drink. I want to live life sober, I want to take a hike or drive or bike ride, or be able to get in my car if my kids need stitches or need a ride to the store. Being drunk is just dumb, it takes your life away and ruins things and makes you not care about things that are important. I am important. I should be cared about, I should be missed, I should get at least letters asking me how I am. I am not as important as beer though, apparently.
Nothing wrong with missing him and nothing wrong with crying now and again "just because." Sometime you just need to do it to feel better and release some of the frustation and stress. You are right about the alchohol though. It is noone fault but their own. Noone can make them drink or stop drinking except them. People find it easier to blame everyone else for the problems they have and in truth if they could realize that their are other option then people would be much happier. There is nothing wrong with going out to "have a drink" but people think that means they have to get plastered or just drink the night away at home. I go out once or twice a month but only have a couple beers and in truth I dont think most alchohol even tastes that great lol. Well chin up and keep smiling because you are loved my many and you have a family and friends to give love to. :-)
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