Am I getting on with it or am I wasting time until the next moment that doesn’t suck? For all intents and purposes I am in a “safe” place. Mentally, no. I am screaming inside again, panic attacks ride my mental vision. Let me go get my coffee now. It might help the migraine, okay? No matter that yesterday I got to sleep at 7 am. Or later, I can’t remember.
Why am I really here? I’m driving myself to distraction writing mental letters to a man child I never really had a relationship with.
My sister told me that we are/should plan that trip to Alaska that we were suppose to plan back in 2015. And she’s right. I’ve been holding of on thinking about it because it breaks my #1 rule about the past.
#1 Leave the past alone.
To go to Alaska means I will be confronting a part of my past that was not only years ago and far away but the beginning of my bipolar episodes. Up until I went to Alaska I only had depressions.
I want a cigarette so bad right now. Tyler Durden is smoking and blowing.
Well in preparation of visiting Alaska I decided I’d contact the only person who might not consider me persona nongrata. K. W., my son’s uncle. My son has never met any of his father’s family before. None of them. Ever. His father was around for about 1 year, less of his life. I sent his father off, told him don’t come back. Told him go to Job Corp where you came from originally, learn a trade, find another woman. Originally he went to the Washington Yakima Job Corp but Maine had one, that was closest. We needed to not be together anymore. I was beginning to hate him. I wanted him dead. It sucks to love someone and want them to change and find out that that will never happened. I could change. I did change. That never changed his desire to fuck any living female that would have him. The thought of him giving me a dirty disease made me disgusted and sick. My jealousy raged. My anger was a driving energy. I figured he could go back to Job Corp and get work, maybe fuck his way through his own libido and forget about me and C. I was sick of working 3 jobs to come home to his inert body, drunk on the mattress amid cockroach shit, balled up sheets too drunk to hear C cry for food or to be changed. I didn’t mind being a “modern woman” (ha, ha,) and bringing in the dough. I did mind finding out about his sexual pursuits, his botched drug buys and his lack of healthy interaction with our son. I didn’t go through 9 months of hormones and weight changes and labor to have a child just so he could leave him in his crib all day as he drank the rest of the time away.
Well, that was after Alaska anyway. Before I “dated” R, his brother, K his other brother then L within a year and a half (I think, my memory is fuzzy.) I met R at the cinema I worked at. I worked with his sister who became my best friend. R was a homeless junky. I loved him. It was that hero type of love that morphed out of a “you paid attention to me I will always be loyal to you” type of neediness that comes from a childhood past raised by neglectful parents. I loved to f^ck. He was more chaste than me but I’d pretend I wasn’t into sex. More likely he was seriously into drugs and that hampered his desire for flesh. First time I had hash was in the basement apartment I had lying on my mattress on the floor with R. The ball of muck pricked to the top of a pin. It hit me hard. I’d had pot before but it was just skank weed. I wasn’t innocent of soft drugs but I wasn’t serious about taking them or the hard stuff. R. did everything, anything had different stuff each time I saw him. I took christmas trees and caffeine pills but that’s about as serious as it ever got. I never got into the speed even though I liked the affect. The acne I wound up with when I came off it was painful and nasty. My first experience with staying away from a drug because the side effects were worse than the “help”.
In between I would run with N their sister who was about my age. She was the youngest of 11 surviving children. That’s how I met K. At some point R stopped coming around. He was doing rehab or some such, he was in Anchorage. Wrote me a letter that I should stop seeing him, he was no good for me, I guess a Dear Jane letter. I was heart broken and I was pissed. I got involved with K as much as I could. He was rarely around so I worked and I roved when I didn’t see him. I had to keep busy, my mind was running.
N, seeing what was going on after a particularly bad encounter between K and I told me that I had to drop K and leave him alone. I should never go out with him, he didn’t respect women, I’d get hurt. I respected N and stopped dealing, seeking K out. L had come into town. N recommended I go out with him. At the time it was a good idea. L had returned from Job Corp and looked like he was taking life seriously compared to some of N’s other brothers.
Now think about this. 3 brothers, within 2 years. I was on a quest. I can see that. What was it? Who really knows. Love? Family? Sex? Multiculturalism? Independence? Making my parents angry? I think a lot of it was pushing it until I could reach a start.
At this point in time L is not talking to me anymore. I broke contact with him when he started his religion chant about 10-15 years ago after another of his rehab gigs. Which is fine with me. As far as I know he’s on his second marriage and still has no children other than C. I’ve been able to come to the point where I can admit that I loved him. I am glad for C. And I don’t want to ever be involved with L again. He’s a junky, a thief and his idea of life is very far from mine. Logic doesn’t seem to obey any of his rules of reality. Hey, whatever floats your boat. I don’t want to deal with it. Plus he has denied C any rights as a Native because he’s legally denied him paternity. So f^ck him.
K isn’t responding to my initial contact with him on fb. My mind is running on about why, why, why. Really though it doesn’t matter. Obviously he has issues with it, me, C or the family. I just don’t want to care. I haven’t seen him in more than 30 years so there’s really nothing there. Truly, I have rules about men I will get involved with. No current relationships, no kids, no drugs, no religion that’s close to cultism and no turning back. When men are involved with something they can’t be involved with you.
I’m left here wondering if I should just leave this as it is. C doesn’t have any interest in seeing them. I have to admit that I care about the family even now. At the same time I’m ambivalent about whether or not I should care. It’s not like they’ve shown much interest in me or C. I’ve sent pictures to them of C as a child. They’ve contacted him on line. Not me. Not that I’m bitter. I’m not really anything.
I guess it just spells itself out.
Alaska 1. W family 0.
There are other things to do.
It will just take some mind adjustments. Here comes the pain. Here comes the change.