Good Enough

I had an fantastically introspective emo melt down last night.  Things seemed fine: we had dinner, I wrapped Chebbar's gifts, and then we hung out in the office until I crawled into bed with my book (due to my ongoing issues [enter heavy eye-rolling here], I'm still sleeping in the office during the week, so Chebbar will continue doing his thing on the computer until I'm done reading, then he'll cuddle with me for a bit before retiring to the bedroom himself).  While my mind was engaged with reading, I was good.  It wasn't until I had dropped the book and lay waiting for Chebbar to turn off the computer that my mind started to wander...

(The majority of this was spoken aloud to poor Chebbar.)
I can't believe Dad still hasn't replied to my email.
What if he doesn't answer?
What if he does?
Do I even want to go at this point?
I hate Christmas.
No, I just hate Christmas right now.
I feel awful for forcing you to celebrate Christmas when this isn't your favourite time of year.
Next year, we're not having Christmas.

I wish I could just wake up and it was January 2nd.

Are you happy?
Would you really tell me if you weren't?

Yeah, I'm mostly happy.

But I wish I was better.

I wish I wasn't such a mess.

I wish I wasn't so neurotic.

I wish...

I think too much.

I worry too much.

I'm too suspicious.

I'm too jealous.

I can't let shit GO.

But I hate not being in control.

Things are easier when I'm controlling everything.

Things aren't as scary when I know what's going to happen.

But I can't control everything and I hate that so. much.

I'm a mess and I'm crazy and I'm sorry you have to deal with me.

Don't look at my eyebrows: they embarrass me.

There was more; I was all over the map last night.  The weirdest part?  No tears.  Well, a few may have leaked out of the corners of my eyes, but no full-fledged crying that would be the norm for me - I was just that... numb?  I wore myself out enough that I slept like a log.

To be fair, there is every likelihood that my switching back to my old BCPs has a hand in all of this.  It's possible that the time of year/change of seasons (yesterday was the shortest "day" of the year, after all) has a hand in all of this.  It's possible that the potential family drama has a hand in all of this.

After dancing around the subject via facebook messages with my siblings, I finally bit the bullet, put on my big girl pants, and sent an email to my dad asking if we were invited for Christmas.  I haven't heard from him since I emailed him the week after my birthday on an unrelated matter, to which he replied by apologizing for failing to acknowledge said birthday because of some serious family shit that we were ALL going through (seriously: my brother faced going to jail on my birthday, yet even he managed to send me a text message AND call to wish me a happy birthday - we were ALL a mess over that).  I sent Dad an ecard for his birthday in October, and never heard anything.  How fucking awkward is it to have email your father to find out if you're being included in Christmas?

My mom knows that I haven't heard from him since he didn't acknowledge my birthday.  She knows that I'm all confused and conflicted about Christmas.  I sent her an email this morning regarding unrelated stuff, but mentioned that I had sucked it up and emailed him, that he hadn't bothered to respond, and that it was making me feel like shit.  How does she respond?  BY COMPLETELY IGNORING THAT PARAGRAPH.  Seriously.  Thanks for the support, Mom!

An hour or so after Mom's email, Dad replied.  In his typical fashion, he started out with excuses (STILL talking about being stressed over the possibility of Nick going to jail EIGHT MONTHS after the fact) and closed with flipping it around so that it's somehow my fault (he actually had the audacity to play the wounded party by claiming to not know what role The Donor is playing in my life and if there's room for him - I... I just... there are NO WORDS).  He even delved deep into the manipulative mire to pull out a "there will always be a special place in my heart for you..."  Now, is it just me, or does that not sound like the type of bullshit parting line you give when trying to soften the blow of a break up?

And now I don't know.  I'm not left with the overwhelming feeling of being wanted there, but now that I've addressed the elephant in the room, if I choose not to go, it's going to cause drama.  He will play the wounded party (no, I'm serious: I'd bet my home that this is how it would play out) and I'll be the bad guy.

So, on top of all the emo-vomit bullshit last night, I'm feeling unheard and unsupported by my mother, and unloved and unwanted by my father.  See why I just want it to be January now?