Sunday, 26 May 2013

Scared to look beneath

There is something not right in my life. I know I need to look at things and find out what it is, but I am scared at what I might find if I look at myself too hard. I burst into tears a few moments ago after reading the first few lines of a text from my mother. I'm tearing up again now just thinking about it. She is worried about me. I don't know, maybe she should be. Considering all the irresponsible choices I've been making lately, in both my professional and personal life, I shouldn't be surprised. Driving to the office today I was sitting at the robots and thought about the reasons many people delve into heavy drugs and alcohol: to find the oblivion where you don't have to think about anything. It's a coward's way, to run from things, but for a moment I thought I understood the temptation.

Sunday, 19 May 2013

Daddy Issues

I've a busy week and a bit ahead. Even though there are things I am looking forward to during the next 10 or so days, thinking about it just makes me feel tired. More tired than usual. Plus my father is back in the country. Having spent this weekend around both my parents for a change, I spent the drive back to my place feeling like a horrible person and an even worse daughter. I love my father. I used to be very close with him. I admit to having been a daddy's girl. I saw him through rose-coloured glasses and he could do no wrong. My mother took the brunt of my teenage anger when family matters seemed to be circling the drain. I have since grown up and the happy facade of my perfect dad cracked, and although I know he has truly great qualities, has somewhat shattered. For this reason I spent most of this weekend trying to tolerate his being there. I eventually left for home sooner than anticipated because I couldn't handle it. Admitting that makes me hate myself. I never thought I'd see the day when my sister was closer to my father than I am, or the day that I called my parents' house my mom's place, feeling like my dad wasn't really a part of things anymore. My parents are still married and what's between them is their business, but when I've thought of my family in recent times, it's been my mother and sister that have come to mind. Again, starting to feel kind of sick as I write this. How can him being in another country trying to prove himself make me disengage emotionally from him, at least superficially? I have been thinking about this and I know I would be heartbroken were he to die, and just the idea of it makes me melancholy. Contrary to that, though, is the fact that I don't think of him really, or haven't been at least. What kind of daughter essentially ignores the existence of her father, having him only on the periphery, when he has done nothing to deserve it? I look back on these last two-and-a-bit days and realise that I didn't hug my dad properly once. I hugged my mother strongly right in front of him, saying hello. How could I have been so callous? I think now how much that must have hurt him. Maybe he didn't notice, but after hearing him speak about being lonely when he is away from us, I think he would have. Dammit. I'm a shit.

Friday, 10 May 2013

You gotta put your behind in your past

So today I had a mini heart attack. Not a medical one but so the phrase goes. You know how we've all (well, most of us) done stuff that we regret? Things we look back on and shudder to think about? Things we put at the bottom of a drawer in the basement of our brains and hope it never again sees the light of day? Well one of mine hit me for a six mid-morning.


Someone from my past (apparently) randomly got hold of me via Whatsapp. Now according to this person we spoke over 4 years ago. I didn't even remember them, and that's after being told their name and sent a photo. I sort of believed we may have interacted, but then they sent me irrevocable proof. And the breath went out of me. I actually felt a tad sick.

Now I admit to having less than angelic moments of stupidity in my personal history books, and I hope for the sake of my pride that I am not alone in this, but when in the moment and being a silly young fool you don't think further than your phone until after the fact. Once you've grown up a bit you think back, possibly regretful, but you chalk it up to the idiocy of youth in this new age (even though you knew better at the time) and you hope like hell it stays behind you. Then you forget. You go about your daily life, either improved or not.

Here's a bit of news: when they say all secrets eventually come to light, they're right. 99.7% of the time (and yes I just created that statistic) the things you did back in the day will come back to bite you in the bum. If you're lucky they won't draw blood. Being the cynic I am, I find it difficult to trust a person's word, particularly a veritable stranger. I now find myself trying to be hopeful. One of the many things I realised today is that if I ever have kids, I will be paranoid about what they are doing behind closed doors or via what they think is the security or annonymity of technology. What's even scarier is that by the time short-stuffs come into my life and grow to the age I need worry about them like that, technology will have advanced far further than today, creating even more avenues for teenage stupidity to walk down. Plus if the social statistics today are anything to go by, I will have to start worrying far earlier than the arrival of the teenage years.

So here's a bit of wisdom, and I think this can be applied to everything from dubious flirtation to capital offenses: if you're going to do something that can potentially land you in social or legal hot water, if you don't have the will or way to not do it, don't leave any evidence. Particularly not the type that can be moved or multiplied electronically. Just a suggestion.

Thursday, 9 May 2013

Lost the battle, but the game is still on

Impulse control? Fail. Total fail. Let's hope I don't end up with egg on my face because of it. Regardless, listen people: failure can officially be fun. And not so fun. Depending on the circumstances. As with everything. Problem now is backtracking: simple conversation, silly flirtation, random times spent doing random things.

So now we wait. We hope. I try make decisions about whether to speak, or to shut up and wait some more. Maybe this can be a testing ground for me getting back my spunk. I let Stanley screw me up in CT. I became the exact type of mallable woman I disdained and never wanted to be. I used to be such a hard-arse; said what I thought, had certain things I wouldn't compromise on. Then I changed. Started worrying about people leaving me if I said the wrong thing. Now I want to change again. Go back. Re-teach myself to be confident in my opinions. Boom! Let the magic happen.