Saturday, November 10, 2012

When I blog I usually do when when I get to get my frustrations out. I am not normally angry/sad. 

I am pretty upset right now. Yesterday, I noticed that the filters in my Shark Navigator were pretty dirty. So I did what needed to be done and cleaned them out. After months of me begging M. finally decided to move his ass and rent a Rug Doctor. Don't ask why I have to beg to get something that simple done. I just have to.

Anyway, he asked his sister to clean the living room up. I told M. that I had cleaned the filters and that it would take 24 hours for them to dry. So he tossed them in the dryer and went off. 

We came home to a picked up and vacuumed living room.  Sister-in-Law started in on where was the Rug Doctor. We didn't get one because of having to wait around for HOURS to get M's check (his supervisors apparently decided to have a VERY LONG LUNCH). This could have been solved by getting direct deposit but M. refuses to go that route.

Walmart was a damn nightmare. I assume that people were grocery shopping (like us) and buying Christmas presents. So getting though the store was horrible. We decided to get the Rug Doctor another day. 

Sister-in-Law was all, "Are you going to get one?" Uh. Yeah. You sure as hell won't. You won't buy anything worthwhile with your check. The freaking local politicion pays for your car insurance on your father's car! You don't have any bills. But, please, go on about how you pay the mortgage with your father's check. Terrible hardship that. 

Anyway, today I go to do laundry and find one of my vaccum's filters in the dryer. That pissed me off. So I came upstairs to put it in my vaccum and found out that my sister-in-law vaccumed without ANY filters in it. Great. Let's just BREAK my vacuum you fucking idiot. 

Lesson learned. The vacuum is going into my bedroom with the DOOR LOCKED when not in use.

Monday, November 5, 2012

I was a Daddy's girl growing up. I remember having to go with him wherever he went. He was going to take our trash to the dump? I was with him. He was going to the hardware store? I was right there. It didn't matter where he went. I wanted to go. 

When I was very little. Oh, I was maybe, 6? My Mom used to babysit these girls whose parents had divorced. They would ask me, "Who is your favorite parent?" I answered with, "My Dad." 

When we moved to Maine... Dad acted differently. He constantly had a chip on his shoulder. Everything we did was wrong. Bad. If I needed help in school, I was stupid for not getting it immediately. Once in 2nd or 3rd grade, I needed help learning how to do something in math. It wasn't make since. Dad looked at it and made fun of me. He told me that I did math like a baby would. That never left me. I've always felt like I can't do anything right. Nothing I do is good enough. Everything I do is bad. 

When Dad left to go to Iceland, he had been acting so horrible that I was glad he was leaving. I remember the relief I felt when he wasn't around. It like we could be free. 

He came home from Iceland and we moved to North Carolina. Dad didn't send much time with us. Most of his time was spent in his office room chatting up women. I'll never forget when I found out that he was having an affair. Dad and Mom were fighting and I overheard her say, "How would you feel if I told you that I had a girlfriend, huh?" I was dazed. How could he do that? How could anyone with a conscience do that to their spouse? 

They decided to sperate. They called us into the kitchen where Mcdonalds was spread out on the table. They even got french fries. I remember this because my father would always refuse to buy us french fries saying that we had them at home. My parents told us that they were seperating. It wasn't a shock. We all knew it was coming. 

A week later, I walked into the living room and saw my parents cuddling on the couch. They never said anything to us, but I knew that they were back together. I was happy.

It came out that Dad was having an affair. Mom threw him out of the house. She was crying and crying. I went online and told my BFF at the time. She consoled me. Mom decided to move back to Maine. Stephen was going with her. I felt like I had no choice but to go with her to keep Stephen safe. Without me he would have been alone and I knew it. So I moved back to Maine with her.

Little did we know that a month later Dad was out car shopping with Sarah's daughter. 

Dad never called. We would go down and see him in the summer for a month. Then we would go back home.

One summer, I was 17, I think. He had to go to the beach for some sort of conference. Stephen and I went with him. He asked us, one night, how we felt about him marring Sarah someday. 

I told him the truth. I said that I was afraid that he would forget about us. That her family would become his family. He got angry and stormed off. It's funny, because I was right. That is exactly what happend.

They allowed me to move in with them when I was 20. I had been living in Florida in a terrible situation. Working a job that kept me so stressed out that I would come home and vomit at the end of the day. I would pray and beg God to get me out of that situation. He did. I moved in with Dad, much to Sarah's dismay. She did little to hide her true feelings.

While living there I was lied about. Dad believed every word. I loved working. I was treated so much better by the people at work than I was at home. I longed to never be there. 

I was forced into buying a car. If they had held back, I would have went to college. The car payment scared me. I knew enough to realize that I would have to support not only myself, but my car while in college. I was so afraid that I never went. 

In 2007, I moved out. It was sweet freedom. I left them and didn't call or talk to them for half a year. I finally broke the silence by visiting Winston-Salem with M. and Stephen. I called him and told him that I was in town. 

It's funny how much of a Daddy's girl I had been. It's funny that he has allowed himself to get rid of his family so that he could have women. It isn't funny. Wrong word. Sad. I would never do that to my little boys.