.& 015. All My Screaming Has Gone Unheard

Feels like the weight of the world; like God in heaven gave me a turn. Don’t cling to me, I swear I can’t fix you. Still in the dark, can you fix me? Freefall, freefall, all through life. If you love me, then let go of me. I won’t be held down by who I used to be. She’s nothing to me. Feels like the weight of the world; like all my screaming has gone unheard. And oh, I know you don’t believe in me. Safe in the dark, how can you see? Freefall, freefall, all through life.
Evanescence – “Weight of the World”

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted and mostly because I haven’t had the mental energy to pull on the emotional strings. Truth be told, I still don’t. But this is a release I require.

On December 11th of 2008, my father attempted to end his own life by means of overdosing on a myriad of anti-depressants and sleep-aid medication at his fingertips. Everything was prescribed to him by his doctors.

Needless to say, the entire ordeal has been very traumatic and has taken a large toll on me mentally and emotionally. Physically I am still exhausted but I cannot attribute that to the events of the last month since I’m used to physical exhaustion.

My dad and I drove out here, leaving San Diego on the 2nd of January with my cat, Lili. She did very well in the car. Dad and I didn’t talk about his suicide attempt or anything of the sort. We reached PA on January 4th and began the process of letting the cats meet and greet each other. My aunt Joyce called me the next day and wanted to get into specifics of the drive while my father was about 30 feet away. Then she gave me attitude about why I didn’t talk to him about his suicide attempt while we were in the car. She acted like I’d failed and that I was pathetic. I’m still so very very angry at her for how she handled everything.

I spoke with my aunt Carol the day after and told her about Joyce and why my dad and I hadn’t talked; he didn’t want to even touch the subject. I read body language very well and pick up on emotions. He very much did not want to talk about it. So I didn’t push. Carol agreed with me, that it was my call to make and sometimes it is better to proceed with life as normal after something like this.

My dad, myself, Rick, and Rick’s parents all went out to dinner that Monday night. It was raining fairly hard and I, as always, told Rick to put his seatbelt on. My father is very adamant about people wearing their seatbelts; he passed this on to his children. Rick, trying to act cocky, gave me attitude about it. My dad piped up with “You owe it to my daughter to wear your seatbelt.”

As I found out yesterday, Rick’s automatic response to that was going to be “and you owe it to your daughter to not kill yourself” but refrained. When he told me this last night, it felt like he’d punched me in the gut. I still haven’t really dealt with things.

I’m still so angry at my father. And I’m terrified, still, that he is going to try again and succeed this time.

Who would give me away at my wedding?
He wouldn’t get to see Kyle graduate.
He wouldn’t get to meet either of my brothers’ First Girlfriends.
Should any of us three have a child, he wouldn’t get to meet his first grandchild.
& he would never be called “Grandpa” to his face.

Ironically enough, I’d mailed a Christmas card out to my father on December 10th that was fairly sappy. It went on to say that I was finally beginning to find myself while I was out here and that I didn’t think I’d have gotten this far without him. He didn’t get the card, of course, until he was out of the hospital and I was there by that time so I didn’t push it upon him for him to read.

I’m just drained. I feel broken.

While I was gone, Rick was so amazing. He was so very patient and kept telling me to stay out in CA as long as I needed to, even though he missed me desperately. It was a waiting game and a day-by-day reanalysis of the situation with no real set date for the return.

But then I got back home and it’s just business as usual. I cry way too often, I’m not getting much help in the apartment, and I feel like he feels I’m just his little housewife because he’s bringing home the bacon. The problem is, I’m bringing home almost 50% of our household income. Yet I’m paying all the bills and I’ve been paying rent since he’d been laid off. Even January’s rent – and I’d missed out on over a week’s worth of pay because my Paid Time Off ran out while I was in CA. He didn’t have the money. So I took care of it. Again.

This month, he supposedly has the rent money already saved up and put away so I don’t have to worry about it. That will be a relief because I seriously ran up my American Express while I was in California. Rental cars, plane tickets, groceries, gas… It was the only way I even had the money in my bank account to handle the rent. Maybe, subconsciously, I knew that was going to happen.

I’m just tired of it. I am not asking to be taken care of. I’m just asking that it not all fall on me. Not the finances, not the chores… none of it.