My Saturday morning started out as any other; get Jason up and fed for work (that sentence sounds like he is 2) and then clean house. This morning Jason was actually early so we sat down to watch a little TV before he left. Flipping through channels, he ended up on cartoons; something we never watch because, well "Spider Riders".....really?! BUT as soon as my little eyes saw animation on a Saturday morning, like a Pavlovian dog I got up and marched into the bedroom.
Growing up, my sperm donor had a lot of rules. My life was dictated by rule after bogus rule; over and over he pounded stupid shit into my head. "Don't eat raw cookie dough," don't ride your bike to the end of the driveway," "sit at the table until you finish all your Hamburger Helper,"wash your hands after touching anything I haven't blasted with pure bleach." I was so freaking neurotic as a kid; in fact, I am still neurotic but no where near his level! He was like a level 50 Warlock when it came to everything - EVERYTHING!
So why did I march my tuchuss into the bedroom? Because - as a child I was not allowed to come downstairs on the weekends to watch cartoons unless my bed was made and my room picked up. Then, Sargent sperm donor would do a military check and if it met his EXTREMELY high expectations for 7:30am; I was allowed to go downstairs and have breakfast and watch cartoons.
It was like a military flashback! Jason even told me to leave it and sit down so we could spend some time together before he left. I couldn't! I HAD to make the bed. Right then. Don't get confused; I make the bed every single day. I can't sleep in a messy bed - HUGE pet peeve! But the freaking cartoons set off a literal panic alarm internally and I was driven to do it; partially out of fear! Fear! Honestly I cannot believe that at 27, that abusive dumbass still holds power over me! It took all of 5 minutes and then I sat back down with my coffee and felt --- normal.
So now I have a whole new basket of issues to take to my therapist...... jesus christ! Part of me wants to rip the bed apart right now as a form of non-compliance but the person I would be trying to piss off; is dead to me. How can a corpse still dictate your life even after they are gone and you thought that you had finally beaten all the demons he left? Part of me also wants to drive to his house and just lay him out on the concrete for fucking me up so bad; but he is a girl and would call the popo. :EPIC EYE ROLL:
I am certain that this creature will continue to haunt me until the day he actually dies. And that pisses me off. I want control of my life back- and I want him to not even be a memory. I want him to be nothing. But you can't erase 17 years of hell and you can't erase 17 years of structured fear. 17 years of living in constant panic and terror......
Whatever- I will let my therapist figure this puzzle out. I have spent to much time already today wasting thoughts on him. For being a nothing he sure takes up a lot of my time......that saddens me.
Off to try and have a "normal" Saturday. It is GNO (girls night out) tonight and I cannot wait! First stop - Hoots for a razorblade with the girls in memory of Ms. Kara Bear (we <3 and miss your face Laaaaaaaaaaady!!) Then over to Scooter to show the gays how we do it! Holler! Operation Effy Blackout '11 is about to go down!
Peace, <3 and Chicken Grease!
~~~Effy
No comments:
Post a Comment