(no subject)
Universal frustrations, pains, issues are so irritating because they are so universal.
Who wants to have the same pains over and over.
Who wants to talk about issues that everyone else has. Its like a carousel mirage. You know what you're seeing, you know it's because it's hot and you're thirsty, you are annoyed at yourself for knowing that you are seeing a mirage again and again but you still look at it and you still thirst. But the thirst comes from the mirage before it comes from dehydration. We can imagine thirst, death by suction, a lack of water vapor. So does that pain of imagining make my issues less authentic? I refracts it a bit. Makes it harder to collect into what is actually a problem.
Because in seeing a mirage, there is no line between outside the mirage and the desert. So its hot, that means I should have a mirage. It's like, the conditions are what it takes to make a mirage, so there must be one. But maybe I've made the mirage, and the problem isn't so much a problem as I am thirsty and all I know how to see is a palm tree, an oasis, a purple camel and a diamond studded black saddle. It's a one hump camel.
Anyway, I guess I write this because my aching issue with my father keeps bubbling with more ferocity every time I see him. It's become a holiday schedule now- our interactions are conducted via leisurely activities. I hate having an issue with my father. It makes me feel pathological. It makes me think I'm making something up because that's the type of issue I'm supposed to have. And having this issue with an issue makes it worse, because I'm just making it harder for myself. I also put up a mirror to my actions so I watch myself as I consider myself and therefore make a prison for my father that he can't escape from- or at least, my conception of him can't. The issue is just
that
he has no conception of me other than his daughter. There is nothing about my person that he actually knows. I almost am unsure as to whether he knows what I studied in college or what I'm doing now. He doesn't ask, doesn't need to know, doesn't have the patience, energy or interest to listen. I do, and he glosses over, and I say okay, it's because he has a business that he works at every waking hour. Of course he can't pay attention to me because he's thinking about work. He has had this business my entire life and for most of his and this is how its always been. He didn't come to my volleyball games for 5 years, sometimes asks me what my birthday is, doesn't really know who my friends are besides Britt- who's been around for 15 years. And it's not for lack of trying. And I don't know him because of all this. I know that he is his business but I also know that that's wrong. I am thinking of seeing a psychiatrist because I am certain that this issue has led me to date the men that I have (god forbid I ever date a man who could challenge me, take me out of my comfort zone or make me uncomfortable). See, my father never ever did that. I'm not saying he doesn't love me. He loves me dearly. He would love me if I worked at Walmart, or tattooed sections of Finnegan's Wake on my face or gained 300 pounds. He loves me because I'm his daughter. So I've always been free to be whatever I wanted because I knew I would be supported, my parents would love me for whatever I did. But in someways, that's the problem. It doesnt matter who I am and he doesnt seem to really actually know anything about me at all. I wish I could say this in a more honest way, but I feel so contrived it's almost laughable. I want him to see me, actually me. I want him to have the energy to look.
Who wants to have the same pains over and over.
Who wants to talk about issues that everyone else has. Its like a carousel mirage. You know what you're seeing, you know it's because it's hot and you're thirsty, you are annoyed at yourself for knowing that you are seeing a mirage again and again but you still look at it and you still thirst. But the thirst comes from the mirage before it comes from dehydration. We can imagine thirst, death by suction, a lack of water vapor. So does that pain of imagining make my issues less authentic? I refracts it a bit. Makes it harder to collect into what is actually a problem.
Because in seeing a mirage, there is no line between outside the mirage and the desert. So its hot, that means I should have a mirage. It's like, the conditions are what it takes to make a mirage, so there must be one. But maybe I've made the mirage, and the problem isn't so much a problem as I am thirsty and all I know how to see is a palm tree, an oasis, a purple camel and a diamond studded black saddle. It's a one hump camel.
Anyway, I guess I write this because my aching issue with my father keeps bubbling with more ferocity every time I see him. It's become a holiday schedule now- our interactions are conducted via leisurely activities. I hate having an issue with my father. It makes me feel pathological. It makes me think I'm making something up because that's the type of issue I'm supposed to have. And having this issue with an issue makes it worse, because I'm just making it harder for myself. I also put up a mirror to my actions so I watch myself as I consider myself and therefore make a prison for my father that he can't escape from- or at least, my conception of him can't. The issue is just
that
he has no conception of me other than his daughter. There is nothing about my person that he actually knows. I almost am unsure as to whether he knows what I studied in college or what I'm doing now. He doesn't ask, doesn't need to know, doesn't have the patience, energy or interest to listen. I do, and he glosses over, and I say okay, it's because he has a business that he works at every waking hour. Of course he can't pay attention to me because he's thinking about work. He has had this business my entire life and for most of his and this is how its always been. He didn't come to my volleyball games for 5 years, sometimes asks me what my birthday is, doesn't really know who my friends are besides Britt- who's been around for 15 years. And it's not for lack of trying. And I don't know him because of all this. I know that he is his business but I also know that that's wrong. I am thinking of seeing a psychiatrist because I am certain that this issue has led me to date the men that I have (god forbid I ever date a man who could challenge me, take me out of my comfort zone or make me uncomfortable). See, my father never ever did that. I'm not saying he doesn't love me. He loves me dearly. He would love me if I worked at Walmart, or tattooed sections of Finnegan's Wake on my face or gained 300 pounds. He loves me because I'm his daughter. So I've always been free to be whatever I wanted because I knew I would be supported, my parents would love me for whatever I did. But in someways, that's the problem. It doesnt matter who I am and he doesnt seem to really actually know anything about me at all. I wish I could say this in a more honest way, but I feel so contrived it's almost laughable. I want him to see me, actually me. I want him to have the energy to look.