Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Hi Pals,

Isn't she pretty?

This was a stressful day. This is too much for me. I want to do the right thing and help people and be loving but it gets to be so hard sometimes.

It didn't feel like Father's day at all. Maybe because my father is almost gone. I called him and Rosa put him in the phone and he actually said a word or two. I wish I knew whether he makes sense of what he sees and hears. I mean I know he can't communicate very well at all. He seems to know what he wants to say and he starts to talk at the right moments but the poor thing, he just says everything all mixed up and then looks so sad. What a horrible thing to wind up with when you've been such a strong successful man all your life. I mean if he is conscious inside his self shell it must be torturous for him to have to wear diapers and be fed by a nurse. I just feel so sorry for him.

Father's day has always pretty much sucked for me. He was always so much older than me and didn't really want to spend time with me or do anything for father's day other than to spend it in front of the television watching sports. I used to feel so hurt.

Then Robby came along and I finally had what felt like Father's day and a sense of family because we would all go to the park and have a big family picnic every year. All of his fathers kids would come and they all accepted me as one of them so it was so nice to feel like I belonged to a big family. Robby was there and I loved him so much so I felt safe and his family seemed like they loved me.

Robby's father divorced his mother when he was in his late teens and then his father remarried his high school sweetheart and she turned out to be so much nicer than his creepy mother who I spent years trying to befriend and win over. But she always hated me and saw me as this threat to her closeness and CONTROL over her children. I only recently found out how much she had hated me all those years. I had thought of her as family, difficult, scary, but family. I cared about her, in fact I loved her and now all that is left is hurt and the memory of the feeling I always had when I was around her that I never understood was disdain for me.

It hurts to think through all of this and write it out. I can't believe that my old life is gone. I don't know when I will finally accept and make peace with this. It's just that father's day, more than any other holiday, more than Christmas even, brings home this reality. Now Bob and Diane have moved to Hemet and for the last few years of our marriage we would travel there to visit with everyone. It's odd that I feel loss over not being with those people anymore, when in reality I was always a bit afraid of them. it's just that all my life I have been yearning for family and I only ever really felt it when I was with my old friend Lorraine's family (I can't even begin to tell you how much pain I have going on around her) and then later with Robby's huge family. Now they're all gone and it really hurts.

I tried to get beau and Robby together for father's day but I bungled the whole thing. My good therapist would say that isn't fair to me but I think it's my fault somehow. Scott tried to help me see it differently this morning but it's so hard for me not to blame myself. I called Robby about three weeks ago and left a message on his machine asking him to call me about father's day and telling him my feelings about it. I had told him that beau did not want to go to Hemet and that I supported him in this and that I think father's day is not just for fathers but for children and their father's to be together and to celebrate fatherhood. I suggested he ask make certain his brother and sister find their own rides to Hemet and that he plan on seeing beau in the morning before he leaves or in the evening when he comes back. Of course he never called me back about this. Finally I called him again and asked him what he planned on doing. he asked me if Beau wanted to see him and I said yes. So he said that he would come pick him up at ten in the morning but I said that would be kind of early. Then Beau and Robby talked to each other and it was left at ten.

last night I reminded Beau that he had to go to bed early and should be ready by ten. I told Esther our hosuekeeper/pal/babysitter to help him get ready in the morning, she told Coco our other housekeeper who works for us during the week. So I thought ti was all covered but Beau told Coco he didn't want to go with his dad so she didn't wake him up in time. Since I sleep in, because as you know I stay up all night, something every therapist I've ever seen says is a major sign of depression *sigh*, I wasn't awake when Robby came by. Apparently he came by at ten, hopped the security fence and just showed up at the front door, (man, he's such a jerk, believe me, I mean it's just so typical of him to circumvent the security gate to let us know that no one keeps him out). When Coco answered she said he became really angry when she told him Beau was still sleeping and so was I. So rather than help her wake him up or ask her to get him ready or even to get me, he decided to flounce off in a huff and peel rubber down the street.

So when I woke up an hour later, before I had a chance to talk to Coco, I spoke with Beau and he was telling me that he didn't want to go with Robby for father's day. I told him he would have to because he couldn't just stand him up at the last minute and hurt him like that. I was trying to model decency for him. So Beau said that since it was eleven and Robby hadn't come by maybe he wouldn't and couldn't I just leave it at that and I said no that I would have to call him. So I called and left a message asking him why he hadn't come by. Then when I learned what happened I called and told his machine that I was really sorry things hadn't worked out. So now I know that he probably went around telling everyone what a poor helpless little father's day victim he was. This form the man who doesn't see his son more than once or twice a month at the most and doesn't help in any way, financially, emotionally, physically, not in any way. Sometimes there are days when I'd like to take Beau and drop him off at Robby's mother's house, where he stays and say, "Here you take care of your son for a week and I'll be the Dad who just comes by when it's convenient, in between fencing tournaments and strip club and bar visits." Of course I would never to that to my Beau but I just get so worn out sometimes, and to be so misunderstood, to try so hard to facilitate a safe relationship between them and to have the opposite attributed to me, well it just isn't fair and it hurts.

So that's why it didn't feel like father's day.

I had so much more I wanted to write but I'm just too tired. I'm pissed off at a lot of people. Pissed because I am just so fucking sick of being hurt, sick of being used and manipulated and taken advantage of and hurt and hurt and hurt. I am just so tired of getting trounced. So tired of being naive and trusting and letting people hurt me and then feeling like it was my own damned fault for trusting them. I feel like Hugo's, (Esther's husband) favorite shirt, that time he got drunk and passed out, and she was so hurt and enraged that she threw it down on the kitchen floor, poured food, drinks and condiments on it and then did a sort of Mexican Jig over it. When he woke up in the morning with an amazingly, painful hangover, and asked what the hell had happened to his shirt she said, "Pues tu bailaste," (...then you danced on it). That's my analogy for me tonight, I'm the shirt who gets danced on and then I'm the man who gets blamed and feels badly for it.

Love you guys,

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