(no subject)
I have an ugly secret. I spent a lot of time and energy over the past couple years fearing I'll be just like my dad. How is this an 'ugly' secret, you might ask? Well, maybe it isn't really, except to me, but then I am the only one who has to live with it. When I became horribly conscious of this earlier this year, I realized I couldn't live like this anymore and needed to find a way to cope. "Integrate the experience of his life into yours," is what my therapist told me. Now there's something I can relate to. So far this hasn't been terribly difficult, although not entirely without its challenges. Let's just say I no longer fear and hate all the things that he and I have in common, and I am beginning to feel more peaceful about this issue. It feels like something "coming together" in a way, instead of being these two fragmented pieces of myself constantly warring against each other.
"You're just like Dad!" has become a sort of insult in my family, just to give it some context. I've had to learn to say, "We're all like him in some way or another," and to realize that acceptance is the key. Most of my friends don't think I'm like him at all, which is kind of reassuring, but did little to stop me from having those nasty thought patterns.
This morning I was awoken by some kids screaming and shouting and playing ball in the crisp autumn air. "Damn kids," I grumbled and rolled over until I realized that my time for sleeping was over. I always laugh about being cranky and old, because if you can't have a sense of humor about it, you're fucked. And that's when I remembered that my dad was so afraid of getting old that he refused to celebrate his birthday, and even refused to tell people his age. I am the complete opposite. Indeed, I couldn't be happier!
Steve left late last Saturday night. That was one week ago. Last time he was gone, I lost my marbles. Not that that's what I wanted--I felt completely shitty about the fact that somehow I was incapable of living my life without him like a normal person. But this time is different. very different. I'm enjoying doing my own thing quite a bit more. Not that I don't miss him, but I'm having far less of an issue with it this time around. And it better not be an issue, because he'll be gone for 2 months. For some reason I'm reminded of the first year of our relationship, in which he was there and I was here, and I lived in a world by myself. Only this time I mind it a lot less and I'm not so alone. I've got a LOT of stuff to do... let's see if I can do it all in 2 months. Maybe not, but I can try.
"You're just like Dad!" has become a sort of insult in my family, just to give it some context. I've had to learn to say, "We're all like him in some way or another," and to realize that acceptance is the key. Most of my friends don't think I'm like him at all, which is kind of reassuring, but did little to stop me from having those nasty thought patterns.
This morning I was awoken by some kids screaming and shouting and playing ball in the crisp autumn air. "Damn kids," I grumbled and rolled over until I realized that my time for sleeping was over. I always laugh about being cranky and old, because if you can't have a sense of humor about it, you're fucked. And that's when I remembered that my dad was so afraid of getting old that he refused to celebrate his birthday, and even refused to tell people his age. I am the complete opposite. Indeed, I couldn't be happier!
Steve left late last Saturday night. That was one week ago. Last time he was gone, I lost my marbles. Not that that's what I wanted--I felt completely shitty about the fact that somehow I was incapable of living my life without him like a normal person. But this time is different. very different. I'm enjoying doing my own thing quite a bit more. Not that I don't miss him, but I'm having far less of an issue with it this time around. And it better not be an issue, because he'll be gone for 2 months. For some reason I'm reminded of the first year of our relationship, in which he was there and I was here, and I lived in a world by myself. Only this time I mind it a lot less and I'm not so alone. I've got a LOT of stuff to do... let's see if I can do it all in 2 months. Maybe not, but I can try.