the maddness
I wrote this on friday...I'm just now posting it...since I've finally gotten around to configuring moveable type and putting my website back up and all...what a frigging HEADACHE. so yea I wrote this on friday:
you know...everytime I think about how frustrated and bad my father makes me feel, I immediately have to counter by reminding myself traj's father is dead. I'm sure traj would rather have his father alive and annoying then deceased.
all that aside for momentary venting purposes, I love my dad so much and it was a nice gesture for him to fly out here to spend thanksgiving with me but I am not happy right now. until he leaves tomorrow afternoon I won't be able to breathe. I can't take a step without him berating me for stepping that way...he's complained, at least thirty times in the past four days, and I am NOT exaggerating in the least, about how much he hates my apartment, how it's a piece of shit, how I wasn't raised like this, how he's gonna personally see to it that I move out of new york and back to either denver or DC where either he or my brother can watch me like a hawk and run my life until the day I die.
thats not fair to my brother, though...hes not nearly as bossy...but I know my father feels he can control me through chad...thats how it was the entire time I was at howard.
since tuesday my father has been cleaning my apartment...now the average person wouldnt' see the problem with this but lemme break it down for you. he will use it against me later. I give it a month...and then it'll never end, ever, like the guilt trips he gives me to this day about shit that happened when I was 15, 16 years old. he'll say "I had to come to new york and save you"...even though I don't need saving. a year from now, when I make another choice in my life thats not up to his standards, he'll say "you can't even take care of yourself correctly, I had to travel hundreds of miles to clean your apartment". he is real good at that.
so he doesn't like the way I live...he has a right not to...but I have a right not to care. my father has been running my life for years...bullying me into doing shit he wants so I "lower [his] blood pressure"...man I just really truthfully wanna follow my own path. I been in new york for four years, yo...doing this shit by my fuckin self...supporting myself, doing my own thing, finding a way where there wasn't one. I've lived in this apartment three years and ten months and hes never once bothered to visit me until now...so after nearly four years paying my own effin rent all of a sudden I need him to sweep down and run shit? I am the sole proprietor of this bitch...my fuckin life...
he's in my kitchen right now scrubbing my floor which I already scrubbed...although he has been complaining about a sore throat and headache all day. when I asked him to please go sit down he snapped at me...and said "no I said I was going to scrub it and I'm going to scrub it"...he has been cleaning shit this entire fuckin time. like I'm dirty. I'm NOT. I scrubbed and cleaned every surface in this place before he got here...but he always gotta belittle shit I do, even shit as small as scrubbing a floor. I didn't do it "good enough" so he has to do it. my apartment isn't "good enough" so he has to take me store to store trying to find a mop he likes instead of the perfectly adequate mop I already have. I don't eat dairy but he had to buy milk and cheese, which will get thrown away the second he walks out my door, because I'm not "good enough" to decide my own meals.
today we had to go to a furniture store to buy a table for my kitchen because HE thinks I should have one. even though I am working with minimal space as it is and I've learned to make do...I need yet another item of bullshit in my apartment so he can sleep better in denver tomorrow night. yea, after nearly four years, NOW I need another table in my kitchen...the fuck...
aww man I am not explaining this "good enough" either...I don't know how to put it into words. but I have been crying since he got here, wiping away angry tears...because after all I have done to make it on my own, even sacrificing shit I really wanted but knew I couldn't afford, after I came to new york with three hundred dollars, two suitcases, and one duffel bag and worked my way up to an apartment I can call ALL MINE, in his eyes I haven't done shit. he has to SAVE me. he has to FIX the life he feels I've fucked up because I, god forbid, don't have the right fuckin mop or he sees a spot on the floor so I'm too incompetent to mop correctly...he thinks I'm overwhelmed...well no shit...but I don't run to daddy everytime I am, I'm a grown ass woman...he doesn't want me to be.
all he does is exaggerate...my radiator turns on and all of a sudden its "literally one hundred and five fuckin degrees in here!"...I sit down at the computer for an hour to answer some emails from my clients and to finish a website I've already been paid for and its "you are addicted to the computer!" he asks me what time I went to bed last night, my answer of 3am turns into 5:30am later when he's talking to his wife...when he goes back to denver I'm sure he'll tell anyone that can listen how his daughter lives in a cardboard box.
I am really not ungrateful he came...I actually knew this was going to happen way before he arrived...but sometimes I just feel like I'm suffocating. he holds me so tight I can't even be a whole person when he's around. he wonders why I ran away to new york, well why is it a mystery...all I wanted to do was be me, away from everybody else...who I am is good enough. sick of heads telling me its not enough...my parents are supposed to support and teach me...the majority of what they've done since I decided to get the fuck away from their unwavering judgemental glare is nag me.
my father asked me last night "I'm depressing you, aren't I?" I said no because it would've lead to a five hour discussion starring all the shit I've heard before...but he really does. I wanted to have a good time with him; I haven't spent thanksgiving with him in like eight years, but I couldn't even get that. he couldn't stand to see that I was satisified with a life he's to bougeouise to accept...he hates to see me getting by without depending on him (cause obviously he feeds off of it)...blah.
ok so that ends what I wrote on friday...I am still mad and it's almost a week later...but when he was at the airport on his way back home to denver saturday he struck up a conversation with a girl who happened to be a dominican lesbian from queens (uncanny I tell ya!) who's godmother played the original role of mimi in broadway's "rent". she's supposed to be calling. even if she doesn't...my father's ability to do shit like that...to find people I might click with...and his willingness to help me...is noted. and I love him so so much. I'm still pissed off though.
guess what...thank you to nicole who got me the matrix reloaded dvd and white teeth from my wishlist...I should've said so earlier...but I was on i-net hiatus. I would've emailed you a thanks but I'm not even sure who you are...thank you though. presents make the baby jesus smile.