Besides which you see, I have confidence in me

Ok, I don't, but I wish I could and maybe I will, maybe. It's always so disconcerting to have someone express such confidence in me, especially when that someone is a person who knows me so well and for so long, but only knows the parent-friendly side of me and not the irresponsible, self-destructive side that I'm constantly battling. The pressure I feel to not let these people down is overwhelming, especially because they don't know what they're dealing with.

To rehash, dinner Monday night was half wonderful and half awful. Seeing Byron was great as always, and he really does feel like my dad. The people who truly mean the most to you are the ones you can go months or years without seeing, and the moment you're back with them it's as if no time has passed at all. The evening's conversation went from good to bad, fun to uncomfortable, enjoyable to very upsetting. Thank God Genovese wasn't busy, so few were witness to me crying at the fucking dinner table. I was definitely expecting the topics we discussed, but the reality of them still affected me significantly, and paired with the fever I was already running, I was in quite a state by the time we left. I'm left in a very strange, although not wholly unfamiliar, position of bearing the responsibility of bringing my fucked up nuclear family together. I don't want that responsibility, and I feel like this is really unfair. Whether it was a positive or a negative turn of events in the larger picture, it seems like the timing worked out for a reason, for me to have had such fresh ammunition against my father to prove to Byron that things aren't as simple as he thinks they are. The fact of the matter is, I know my father is sad and regretful and hurt about what he did to all of us, but I truly don't believe he's any different and he can't have those people back because we're all different people now, more strangers to him than we were back then, if that's possible. I don't hate him. I don't even know him. But one thing's for certain, I don't miss him.

I've spent the last 2+ days in a hole of despair. I hate being sick, really really really hate it. (Duh, who doesn't.) It's just unfortunate that I get sick so often, and that I stubbornly make poor choices to drink and party and not sleep, knowing full well the repercussions such behaviors have on my pitiful immune system. I've been dealing with this for years now, you'd think I'd eventually learn. I'm really quite stupid.

My dogs are driving me positively insane. I've often wondered what they do all day when I'm gone.. well, now I know, and I'm less than impressed. They made the misery of strep throat even worse with their running and barking and jumping, getting in the trash, hogging the couch, constantly in my face wanting attention.. numerous times I wanted to just turn them out to find new homes for themselves, but relegated to putting them in the backyard instead. I'll tell you what, they're damn lucky we have a fenced in yard.

On another note, hey, I'm fucking stupid about guys, big surprise. I have documented horrible taste, and I think what it's all pointing to is the resolution I came to about this time last year, which is: just don't. No guys, no flirting, no dating, none of it, it's all disappointing and distracting and ultimately damaging, and I should just worry about myself and setting my plans in motion. I've got to get out of here, and attaching myself to someone doesn't fit in to my plan of escape anyway.

RIP, Maggie. You were such a good dog. I'm sorry my father made us leave you behind, but I'm glad you had a long happy life on the farm.

+++ 3WK Underground