Author: Wild Little Hare

I’ve had a few friends ask me recently why my blog is so dry?  I have no real reason except this might be writer’s block 🤔😅😭 (and also this garden ain’t gonna water itself) 

Social media is flooded with fathers today.  Dad posts and Dad photos and Dad memes.  Dad Dad Dad Dad.  It’s great, but I’m selfish so I hate it.  I hate it when my friends brag about the cute shit their Dads do for them.  I hate hearing stories about Dads who would do anything to protect their little girl.  I’m selfish so I’m jealous.  I’m immature, so I keep it inside and let it eat at me until I’m alone and in tears on Father’s Day googling “How to Let Go of Anger”.

My Dad is not dead.  My Dad is alive and well and lives about 20 miles from me.

I can’t say that I’ve ever had a close relationship with my Father.  When I was younger, he was always at work.  When he was home, he was drunk and fighting with my mother.  By the time I was a teen, he was cheating on my mother and moving in with his new girlfriend, which he made his new wife that same year.  When I moved away at age 16, my Dad adopted a new daughter.  When I was 19, I moved in with my Dad and I honestly thought it might give us the relationship I had always wanted with a Dad.  Sadly it didn’t.  It was weird and dramatic for both of us, and if anything it put all our differences between us, and pushed us further apart.

My father remarried to a Drama Queen, and he became her Drama King.  Fueled on drama.  They breathe, eat, and sleep drama.  I can’t remember the last time I heard my Dad say anything nice about a family member unless they were dead.

On Easter, after watching my Dad and his wife scream and yell at my aunt in the garage, I called my Dad out on his childishness.  I laid out my thoughts and feelings for him completely.  I received minimal resistance, and actually received praise and thanks from 3 of the 4 family members I was speaking to, including my Dad.  My Dad said that he was proud of me for speaking up, and then his wife thanked me for saying what “needed to be said”.

A month later after I haven’t heard from, nor reached out to my father, I began to hear stories about myself.  Stories spoken by none other than my father.  He’s told my aunts and my uncles and my cousins and even my brother that I said something I didn’t.  Not just “said” something that I didn’t- but he’s actually going so far as to tell our family that he’s upset with me for “saying” these things.  He’s angry with me for saying things I never said, even with 3 other family members as witness.

At first I was angered.  Angered because I dont understand him or what happened.  Angered because I don’t understand the world he lives in.  Then I slowly became thankful I can’t understand that mindset. Psychosis.  And today I’m in tears because I feel like I lost my father- not gone, but certainly not here.  And I think what hurts the most, is that I know it’s better this way. 

Date a real jackhole that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be good enough for him.  Date a total asshole that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be good enough for anyone.  A guy that forgets your date nights, and everything else you care about.  Date a guy that makes you feel unworthy of his time, even the time of people he knows.  Date a guy that asks you for rides and for other free stuff.   A guy that refuses to invite you out with his friends, but still sees them every weekend instead.  Date a guy that tells his friends he’s only going to hang out with you for a blow job.  Date a guy that says terrible things about you when you’re not around.  And even maybe to your face.  Date a guy that tells you that he wishes you had tits like your bestfriend.

Date a guy that treats you like shit, and then leave him.  Leave him and learn from him.  Learn everything you can about your self-worth and then leave that fucking twat waffle.  Leave and grow and never regret.  

Grow into the woman you were meant to be, for the man that is meant to love a woman like you.

I’m feeling like I have a shitload of animosity towards almost everyone in my life right now.  Thank God the only exception is in fact my boyfriend that I live with.

I’m not sure how I placed myself in a position to feel disrespected by basically everyone, but honestly it really sucks.  And since it’s everyone all at the same time, I can’t help but to wonder if it’s actually only me, being overly sensitive.  Am I reading things wrong?  Am I the one that’s wrong for being and feeling ignored?  Am I wrong for being and feeling left out of my entire family’s plans?  Are my expectations too high?  Does my personality suck?  Am I actually so miniscule that it never crossed anyone’s mind to think that maybe they were treating me poorly.

I know I should speak up.  I should have spoke up.  Now it’s been weeks and I can’t tell anymore if this is reality, or just the world my brain has spiraled me into after weeks of living alone in my head.

I’ve been battling depression for about a month now.  I’ve been in denial about it, taking a single day at a time, crawling into bed right after work, wallowing and wondering how the fuck I was going to fake another day.  I’ve kept it to myself- mostly because denial, also because I don’t want anyone getting all worried about me.  I know I’ll pull through- ETA pending. 

I’ve convinced my boyfriend that my allergies are so bad, I must lay in bed and do nothing for as long as possible, everyday.  Today he spent seventy-eight fucking dollars on Claritin again.

I’ve begged my boss to switch up my work schedule, butting my way past the others with seniority to demand the opening shift instead.  I’m up early every morning, jetting down flights of stairs in the pre-dawn world.  Is this meaning?  Is this purpose?

 I have a full time job where I’m valued more than I value it.  I’ve without-a-doubt reached the peak of my dating career.  I have this beautiful 2 bedroom top floor apartment with said man, and my two loving kittens.

Somehow I can’t get my mind right. 

The day he took me to visit his brother I was not prepared.  I had a tough week myself, and a surprise visit on a Monday after work was not in  the intiniary.   He text me around noon asking if I would go with him for a visit after work, so we were on the road by 5pm.  I’d heard so much about him already, it was just like meeting your favorite celebrity.

We arrived, and my boyfriend poured three shots.  He talked about his niece’s baseball game.  He talked about our apartment, and the latest thing his dad said that cracked him up.  He reminisced to back when they used to sneak out at night, and walk to the city.  And the time their cow got loose and took off down the highway. 
Then he left for a second.  Walked away to say hello to an old friend.  I sat in silence for a moment.  Staring at the face I knew the rest of the family knew so much better.  The family I also considered my own.  I wish we’d met sooner.  I wish we’d met in a different way.  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I sobbed and bragged to him about his family.  My fingers trembled as they traced the hem in my pants, desperately grabbing at anything in reach.  I was sitting cross legged on the ground in my boyfriends jacket, wiping my tears as I caught the movements of him walking back to us.

“You ready?” My boyfriend asked, reaching for his glass of whiskey, and nudging me to follow.  I shoved my glass to the middle cheersing to the boys, and then poured it back.  Trying to hide my soggy cheeks.

“I’m gonna let Micaela take your shot this year bro.  I love you.” He began to pack up my bag.  I threw the next shot back.  My boyfriend grabbed my hand and guided me through a field of graves.  The sun setting behind the flowers left by loved ones.  The first time I ever met his brother.

I had such a terrible mood for a few hours today, and I couldn’t help but to accidentally show it.  I’ve had so many mixed emotions recently.  I feel like I’ve been drowning in a whirlwind of confusion, anger and doubt.

I’ve allowed myself to be in position that I’ve become stuck.  I’m stuck in a hole without a ladder and I can’t escape with anyone’s help.  I know I’m hard on myself.  I know I’m tough on myself.  I tear myself down further than anyone else I’ve known.

I’m not exercising my potential- I’m barely tapping into it at all.  I’m not chasing my passion- I’m terrified I’ve distanced myself too far.  I’m stuck and I’m scared and I’m pissed off about it.

I had a conversation with someone I see my characteristics in.  I sat at the table over tequila with my cousin/childhood bestfriend.  I came home to a loving apartment, where my lover fills my heart and my soul with happiness and fills my ears with laughter.

Why is it so easy to get angered by the things that don’t actually matter?

Spring feels like the real New Year.  The rain finally lets up, after washing away debris that used to exist.  Trees become even more gorgeous- beautiful already but now tipped with perfect tiny blossoms.  The sun comes back, and yanks all from its roots, growing everything strong and flawless from its water hoarding foundation.  And then there’s me- gaining another year from pisces season.

When I was a kid, my birthday meant parties and presents.  As I got older, my birthday meant out of town trips for spring break.  Now that I’m gaining maturity at rapid speeds, growing older is so absolutely refreshing. 

I made a habit to hoard these friendships and relationships that I had, regardless of their nutritional value.  I knew quality was important- but I’d never felt it, so quantity had to suffice.

I’ve dumped so many “friends” this past calendar year, I hadn’t realized until now, how unhealthy it was for me just to have these folks around.

Every aspect of life lately feels so fresh.  I’m feeling for the first time in a long time, (maybe ever) that I can be true to myself without trying to tip-toe around the judgment of other’s- others I felt the need to hold so close.  Other’s that shoved their judgments so far down my throat that I could never speak for myself.

The sun is awake and I too, feel awakened.  I feel refreshed.  I feel ready for all the blessings and fortunes that I know are coming my way.  

Nothing makes you realize the power of time quite like making awkward small talk with someone you used to be the closest with. When you used to sit in comfortable silence and now you’re scrambling just for words to say. Something. Anything.

My least favorite thing about my generation is that we can choose to stay a constant fly on the wall in someone else’s life without having to see them, speak with them, or even know them. We have a library of biographies at our fingertips: classmates, co-workers, friends of family, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends.

According to Facebook, I have 349 friends; yet I can’t think of a single person I’d like to have over for dinner tonight.

Growing up is realizing things change, accepting the differences and embracing the diversity. Don’t dwell on the past, there’s a reason you don’t live there anymore.

I’ve been trying to come up with a End of the Year/2016 Re-cap post, reflecting on where I’ve been and what I’ve done.  It’s been so heavy on my mind and I haven’t been able to find an accurate perspective to watch this fucked up beauty set sail.

 My God this year really chewed me up and spit my ass out, but I couldn’t have asked for a better series of events to grow from.

I started this year and I knew what I wanted, and knew where I was going and who I was taking with me.

Somehow over the course of a year my world was beaten with a mallet, aggressively seared from every possible edge and ruthlessly shredded to almost nothing at all.  Then simmered delicately, slowly adding the finishing perfections.  This year was continuous leaps of faith mostly emerging from false pretenses, with a kick start from my restless soul- learning everything that I knew I needed to learn.

I bartended.  I lived with shitty, sketchy people.  I got a new address (a few).  I swam in the ocean, a lot.  I met so many down to earth people.  I fell in love.  I learned expensive lessons.  I grew rich with life.