In which everything is Terrible

Guess who's back and better than ever!!

Not me

I'm worse than ever

Everything has gone to shit (which isn't a new development), and it's wearing me down, man. I'm about to shuffle off this poor mortal coil and ascend to the stars in a phantasm of complete and utter indignation (and possibly inebriation). I mean, I was drinking whiskey by 8 AM, and that should give you an idea of how my day is progressing so far.

Since the kiddies had school today, and it was their first day and all, I decided to get up and go with them, partially to make sure that Dad didn't do anything weird, and partially to lend a supporting and helpful presence in their hour of need. So I got up, and even though I got about three or four hours of sleep last night, it all was okay. We had breakfast, and I brushed their hair and made sure they had their homework and all that (and I took So Many Pictures, like the proud mother duck that I am), and then we drove off. Dad, true to form, almost made them late, but it's the first day, so maybe their teachers cut them some slack? One can only hope. So we dropped them off, and then the metaphorical shit hit the figurative fan. Dad began to wail and groan and gnash his teeth, and he became so upset that I made him pull the car over, and I drove the rest of the way back. He was so disconsolate that I made the mistake of engaging him in conversation, and then he wouldn't stop, so when we got home, I spent a completely uncomfortable half-hour trying to counsel him through all his issues (actually, no, not all of his issues, he has way too many for that). Finally, he wandered off, and I hightailed it upstairs to pour out my heart to my best man, Jack Daniels. Jack is a good listener, and soon, the world looked just a bit brighter. May the cup of friendship never run dry, truly. 

I slept all day, trying to avoid Dad, and it worked, so by the time I woke up, he was gone, and Xander (bless his soul) had made me a big mug of coffee. Let me tell you, that was the highlight of my day. No matter what happens, coffee has never failed to make me a bit happier (why do I drink alcohol again?). So I cleaned up a bit (with Xander's help), and we talked about our fee~eelings, and then he went upstairs to practice, so I turned on some good ole Broadway show tunes and made lunch for the kiddies. And then they came home! It's so exciting! They're both real school children now! Anselm made some friends, and Talia did a good job on her lit essay, and overall, it was very successful, and none of the things they were worried about came to pass. So that was quite a relief. But then we had to deal with Dad, which wasn't as fun. Fortunately, he went off to his psych appointment soon after that, and we all got to enjoy a pleasant hour or so by ourselves. The thing about psych appointments, though, is that they don't last forever. So now Dad is back, and he's (of course) himself. He cornered me and asked me for a hug, and at least he asked?? Like, he usually doesn't do that much. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I said no, and he got all pissy, so now I'm hiding out in the library. I don't think I can deal with another emotional discussion right now. Maybe after a few shots of whiskey. 

Okay, so I realize how bad this all sounds, like what the hell Maria, you're not even going to hug your poor old dad? What kind of monster are you? And trust me, I feel tremendously guilty about that. I hate myself if I don't, but I also hate myself if I do, and this way, I don't have to feel dirty and violated afterwards. See, Dad isn't one to touch people normally. He's extremely possessive and entitled, and frankly, creepy about it, and Xander and I think this has something to do with our social awkwardness today. All our lives, Dad has been unwantedly touchy, and we never really knew it was a problem until we grew up, and by then, it was already weird. Now, he tells us delightful things like, "this is helping you! It's good for you!" and "even if it feels bad to you doesn't mean it is!" and "I know better than you do. This is good for you!" and "come on, don't be mean. I need this!" (All direct quotes). Which is very creepy. I suppose touching us helps him fulfill some kind of physical need or desire or something, but. Like. It's not our job to do that? And frankly, feeling entitled to touch us however and whenever just because we're his kids is Really Frickin Gross. Fortunately, it's mostly just me whom he touches, although poor Anselm does get his share when I'm not watching, but it's bad enough that I honestly dread when he comes over, because I know what's coming. I've started having nightmares about it, like really bad as traumatic ones, which is annoying, because I have enough nightmares already, thank you very much. And maybe it's my duty to provide this sort of vehicle for physical satisfaction, but I'm really uncomfortable with it, and I can't make myself relax and enjoy it, no matter what anyone says. Nor can I just "sit back and let it happen for my own good," as my dad so eloquently puts it. This goes against every fiber of my being, and honestly, I have a right to bodily autonomy just like everyone else, a right that protects me from all people, even blood relations. As I write this now (I haven't really thought about it before because it's so uncomfortable), I realize that it's symptomatic of my dad's general attitude towards me. He regards me as property, and feels so entitled to me and everything that I am, that he sees no problem with using me as a personal therapist or emotional punching bag or whatever he wants, anytime. Not that he's the only one, honestly, I mean my mom has also woken me up to vent her feelings on me, and stuff like that. But my dad is so much worse, and he does it partially knowingly, I think. Why does this happen? Heaven knows I'm the last person to victim-blame, but I'm not really a victim, am I, and I can't help but feel it's all my fault. If I were different, maybe I would be treated better, and I would feel more comfortable being around my home. 

Dad is now having a very loud conversation with his therapist on the phone, and I'm sure this will end badly. Which is to say, it will end with him seeking me out, and because I feel so much guilt over not hugging him earlier, I'm probably (definitely) going to go with it. And then I'll go drink. My life is so predictable lately. During the day, Dad will use me, and when Mom comes home, it will be her turn. I have prescience now- Apollo himself would be jealous. I can see how everything will turn out, forever! It's amazing, really, but who knew that future vision would turn out to be such a curse? (Literally everyone, yes I know, I'm as steeped in classic mythology as the next person) I need a change. Or maybe I don't, but I want one, and in this society, isn't that almost the same thing? 

I've already slept more than I should have today, and honestly I feel like I'll have weird dreams if I sleep again, so I'm awake now, for better or for worse. And it's definitely worse. What am I supposed to do right now? I don't know. I gotta get out of this place, if it's the last thing I ever do~ I gotta get out of this place- girl, there's a better life for me and you! (Well, there's not, but hope springs eternal and all that) If only there was a revolution that I could wholeheartedly throw myself into. I could die on the barricades and all that. It would be very poetic, and maybe people would draw attractive art of me for years to come, and art historians would analyze my luscious curves and flowing tresses and talk about the symbolism of my jewelry. Which, as we all know, is the dream. Maybe they would even make a musical. (Maybe my part would even be an alto role.) Who knows! All I know is that I would dearly love to punch a National Guardsman in the face. 

Aww crap Dad is bothering Talia. Better go intervene. Why must things be this way? Maybe I was a terrible sinner in my childhood (even more so than I am now). Nothing like uncomfortable situations to bring out the best in problematic retribution theology, am I right? Okay, better go. Bye now!