2.04.2017

Cold as a Razor Blade

I have started this post and erased this post over and over again. Because I don't know what to say or how to say it.

I've been estranged from my dad for almost three months. It's a hurt that is inside me constantly. I don't talk about it with anyone, really, other than my sister--sometimes my husband.

Because what is there to say? Hi, I'm Andy. My sister and I had our dad committed for being an alcoholic. It's been ugly since then. I could write a novel about it, but what's the point? I want someone to feel my pain. I want someone to see my anger. I want someone to see that I did the right thing. But really, I just want someone to see the raw pain that's involved in all of this. I don't want to be right. I just want him to be okay. But he's not.

So what's the point? I'm still right where I was before, even if you hear the whole long, drawn out story and even if you did think I did everything right. I'm still missing my dad. I'm still so hurt.

I've written this post five times now and erased it. I don't know how to express the hurt I have. The anger I have. The fear I have. The sadness I have. I am crushed. There's really nothing to say, is there?

Day after day
Love turns gray
Like the skin on a dying man
And night after night
We pretend it's alright
But I have grown older
And you have grown colder
And nothing is very much fun anymore
And I feel one of my turns coming on
I feel cold as a razor blade
Tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum

1.31.2017

Home

Home - By Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won't let you stay

12.03.2016

Eleven

I hate the Elf on the Shelf a whole lot--and my daughter at age eleven, HAS to know it's me, right? I'll realize, in a panic, when it's bedtime, that I haven't done a damn thing with the elf.

And yet, still...go big or go home, right?


11.30.2016

Dear Liberals:

Dear Liberal Friends: Hillary is not going to suddenly be declared the victor because of recounts in a few states. The people who make up the Electoral College aren't suddenly all going to grow a conscience and vote against Trump. The Republican controlled Congress isn't going to use the 25th Amendment to declare Trump unfit for office, nor are they going to impeach him. And if they did, we'd get Pence as POTUS and probably Sam Brownback as Veep.

 As much as I just want to hide for the next four years (please, god, it can't be EIGHT, right???), THIS. IS. HAPPENING. On January 20th, the shit-flinging hate monkey will be sworn in. So stop your fantasies and stop trying to hide under the bed. This is real, and we have to do all in our power not to lose everything that was gained in the past eight years. Write letters to the editor. Put your congressional representatives on speed dial. Call out the racist/homophobic/misogynistic/xenophobic people who did this. (If you're terrified of confrontation like me, you can even be polite about it with something along the lines of "I don't share your views. Please stop talking.")

 Love each other. Look out for each other. We still might lose everything. But we have to try. And then, if all else fails, we move to Ecuador. Or Sweden or something. We'll figure that part out later. 

But for now, fight.

 Love, A

11.29.2016

Pride and Joy 2

On the Friday night after Thanksgiving, I got a phone call that my father had fallen down (again), was unconscious (again), and was being rushed to the ER (again). By the time I got there, he was trying to check himself out against medical orders for the third time in as many weeks. The doctor was furious.

As you may know, it's impossible to reason with a late-stage alcoholic, so my sister, stepsister, and I triggered an involuntary commitment. In between his alcoholism, heart issues, and recurring melanoma, he's not in a very good place mentally. So getting him committed against his will wasn't real difficult procedurally but it was devastating emotionally.

Thus far, they've held him for a full 24 hours past the mandatory 72 hours and have told us that they may keep him for up to two weeks. He hung up on me when I called him on Saturday, and then he informed the hospital that he would refuse to take any calls from me and my sister from this point on. He has also forbidden the therapists working with him to contact us.

So, my sister and I have been disowned spiritually (there was nothing left to "own," physically). I cycle back and forth between rage and grief and lots and lots of depression, but I don't know what else we could've done at this stage, and I don't regret it. He is going to die. Probably soon. At this point, I have no idea of whether it was better to keep on standing by and watching it while doing nothing or trying to at least prevent him from further harm. No one can take care of him anymore without help. And now, the result is all the same, in that I've most likely lost my dad for good.

11.28.2016

Everybody Knows

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talkin to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates And a long-stem rose
Everybody knows



11.22.2016

Pride and Joy 1

True confessions: my dad is in late stage alcoholism and they think the melanoma has moved into his bones. It's a race now to see which one will kill him. I know this is way too much information for the internet, but it's so much easier for me to tell you this way than in person. Because in person, I will tell you everything is great. Because it's painful to share this shit. So if you have seen me burst into tears in the past week or see me do it in the future, that's why. And you don't need to say anything to me about it or feel the need to comment here. Really.