Archive for the Heart-to-Hearts Category

The Saga Continues…

Posted in Daddy Issues, Growing Up, Heart-to-Hearts, WHAT?! on January 28, 2009 by Danielle Self

My brother texted me last night.

My uncle tried to kill himself over the weekend.

He hasn’t been coping well since my father died and apparently decided that he didn’t want to try coping anymore.  So he took 25 Ambien and slit his wrists.  Totally disregarding his 2 young girls, 2 step children, wife, and military career.

I understand that he’s sad that Daddy is gone… I’m sad…. my brother is sad… a lot of people are still hurting that he’s gone. But none of us are going to end our lives because we can’t deal.

I’m just totally confused at it all… not simply because he thought that that was the only way to make it stop hurting but that they weren’t close.  I get that they were brothers so there’s automatically a special bond there…. but other than that basic brother bond…. that was it.  They didn’t speak.  They didn’t email. Nothing. In fact, if anything it was more of the opposite.  They went out of their way to not speak.

What bothers me most though is that people are putting this golden glow around my dad since he’s gone.  He was a great man.  He was.  But like any other human he had his faults. And its not right to totally disregard those faults like they never happened.  Its like the end of a long relationship.  You need to look back on the good times and smile… but also look on the bad times and remember.  Not only does it make it easier to cope with but it makes it keeps his true memory in tact. It keeps the essence of my father alive to remember him how he truly was and not this picture-perfect person that never existed.  And it makes me want to scream that people keep muddling his memory. Maybe they didn’t know him like I did. Maybe they never took the time to sit with him and talk… but if that’s the case, they have no business being affected by his death at all.

Secondly, I have issues with the fact that my aunt messaged my brother and told him about my uncle but didn’t think that I would care to know.  I realize that I’m not that liked on that side of the family but I still deserve the consideration of knowing that the one person on that side of the family that I do like, tried to kill himself. He’s my Uncle Monkey… why would I not want to know?

Thirdly, I would like to point out that my dad dying and my uncle trying to die should be 75% attributed to my failure of a grandmother. When you have your husband carrying you in and out of the house to go to the hospital because you are too drugged up to walk yourself, when you put up divorce papers on numerous occasions because you are so high that you don’t know what you’re doing, when you beat your children so much it leaves marks because the drugs cloud your conscience… when you do it so often that your children know nothing but prescription drugs and think that that is the norm…. you pass that on to them. And you wonder why you’re all alone?? Get a clue. It hurt me that you wouldn’t even look at me at Dad’s funeral. It hurt me more that you lied to me and told me you loved me while not even looking at me.  It hurt me most that when you “found out” that I was hurt a week or so later, you called my brother to say that you really did love me and wanted to apologize.  You didn’t even try calling me. You selfish, lying bitch. I know you don’t love me.  You never have. Why? Because I’m too much like my mom.  You know what I have to say about that? Good. I’d rather be not loved for being happy, successful, caring, smart, and driven… than be loved for being anyone other than who I truly am.

Advertisements

The Ultimate Daddy Issue.

Posted in Bring on the Rain, Daddy Issues, Growing Up, Heart-to-Hearts on December 28, 2008 by Danielle Self

I’m not sure if it was clear in my last post but I wanted to explain my absence.

On the 30th of November I got a call from my step-mother saying that my dad was sick again and that she would like for me to come and help her out because the kids were getting out of hand.  I was “busy” of course.  I didn’t want to be an enabler. I didn’t want to make it okay for him to be sick.  I wanted him to realize that he had obligations and there wasn’t going to be anyone to bail him out of those obligations.  He chose to be sick. He chose to neglect his family and remain addicted to prescription drugs. He chose it and he would have to live with it.  I was tired of making excuses for him or not making excuses and just being embarrassed of his actions and that nothing seemed to be good enough to make him want to be better than he was. 

I laid around all day and life went on as normal. 

8:00 am on the 2nd of December my step mom called again.  I wasn’t busy… I was sleeping. I woke up just long enough to press ignore and go back to sleep. Again, I refused to be an enabler. I refused to bail him out. Twenty minutes later I woke up to her calling again. I wondered why she wasn’t calling the kids’ nanny and why she absolutely had to keep trying to wake me up.  It couldn’t be that bad.  I went back to sleep after hitting ignore one more time. Ten minutes after that my mom came to the couch where I had passed out the night before and woke me up.  She was crying.

“Shit.  He must really be legitimately sick this time….”

She told me that we needed to go upstairs and that I needed to sit down.

We went up to my room.  I sat on the edge of the bed. And my world came crashing to a halt.

My dad had died that morning.

He was 43 years old. 

What sucks most about this?

I’m still mad at him… even more mad than I was, if thats possible. 

Yes, I miss him.  Yes, I love him. And yes, I’m still so very angry with him.

I’m angry that he left the way he did. I’m angry that he’ll never have the chance to get better. I’m angry that he missed my wedding by 2 short weeks. I’m angry that he left my little brother and sister without a father when they are so young. I’m angry that most of my memories of him aren’t all that pleasant. I’m angry that he deprived my unborn children of a grandfather.  I’m angry that I can’t listen to a Garth Brooks song without thinking of the funeral and crying. I’m angry that I can’t watch a Robin WIlliams movie without getting upset because they look and act so much alike. I’m angry that he didn’t want to get better.  I’m angry that I’ll never know why I wasn’t worth him putting himself into rehab like he promised on multiple occasions.  I’m angry that he left me angry.

Do you know what my only vivid Christmas memory of him is…? The time my mom and I were trying to put up the artificial Christmas tree and we couldn’t get it straight so we woke Dad up from a nap to get him to help real fast…. He threw the tree across the room.

Then there was this one time that his wife called me saying that I needed to go pick up his truck from Wal-Mart.  He drove there so drugged up that he couldn’t look straight and took my little brother with him on top of that.  He had went to pick up more prescriptions. The police escorted him out of the store and took my brother from him. 

More sad than that was that it wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. Back when I was in middle school my dad’s doctors stopped feeding his problem and wouldn’t prescribe him anymore. I didn’t know that he had a drug issue at this point. I was still Daddy’s Little Girl. He started detoxing and began to have hand tremors.  Being a lab tech and having hand tremors isn’t the best thing for your career.  So late at night when the clinic was closed he would take me up to the lab and I would do the tests for him. He would stand by me and tell me exactly what to do but I was the one who did it because he would have spilled all the blood. On our way home late one night/early one morning, we were driving on the highway through town. I said “Daddy, how about driving on the actual road?” “Danielle, I am!” “No, Daddy you aren’t!  Look!” We were well over on the shoulder and extremely close to landing in the ditch. He swerved and somehow we made it home.

He used to get chronic migraines and it was like waking a sleeping bear if you ever happened to get so unlucky to do that. Then it was his stomach. Then his back. Then his legs. Migraines again. Stomach. Back…. and it goes on. 

When I found out that dad had an issue it had been nearly 7 years into his addiction. My mom took my brother and I to our grandparents’ house across the state. We went back to pack up our things…. the garage was collapsed because my dad had gotten angry that my mom had hid his medicine and called all the pharmacies in town to warn them to not give him any. He had drove his truck into the side of the garage in frustration that he wouldn’t be getting his medicine. Walking inside the house was a nightmare.  Our library was a disaster area.  Every single book and paper was torn off the shelves and littered the floor.  Family pictures and old love letters thrown down as if they meant nothing. 

I never got to see him get better for long.  After the divorce was final he was better for a little bit. He found someone he loved and his only vice was his daily glass of boxed wine. He was better for around 2 years… I was jealous that he wanted to get better for his new wife and stepson but apparently my brother, mother, and I weren’t good enough.  After that 2 years was up though… he seemed worse than before. It seemed as though nothing mattered to him at all anymore.  He gave up his job and applied for disability. He didn’t want to be around any of his kids. He sat back in the sunroom and slept. 

I’m not sure how but I think that he must have known that something horrible was going to happen because about a week before his death I was over spending time with him…. and out of the blue he looked at me and asked me to promise him something that I didn’t even remember until I was looking down on him at the viewing.  He said “Danielle.  Promise me something.   This is very important and I need you to not forget. If something happens to me I want to be buried with my mason’s ring and apron. Now, Danielle.  Pay attention. Your grandmother didn’t want your grandfather buried with his.  But it is VERY IMPORTANT to me that I am.  Please make sure that if something happens to me that my apron and ring are with me.” They were. I actually think that that was the last time that I saw him too. 

It really upsets me that all of those bad things sometimes overshadow my good memories of him… like when he took my to my Girl Scout Troop’s father-daughter sock hop and I wore his high school class ring around my neck and we danced to “Earth Angel.”  He begged the DJ all night to put it on… and finally on the last dance he did. Or the time when we were at this wedding and he kept dancing with me to “Shout” and then he let me slow dance with him while I stood on his feet. Or the time he drove all the way out to Hot Springs to watch me lose at Miss Teen Arkansas. Or the time when he grew a ponytail because Duncan McCloud had one and my mom and I begged him to cut it so after weeks of begging he finally did. Or the time when he came with Justin and I to Rogers because he wanted to be there when the JP pronounced us husband and wife officially before the wedding. Or the time he finally gave Justin the “she’ll always be my little girl and by the way I don’t have a gun… I have a samurai sword” talk. 

…. So now I guess I face my biggest daddy issue of all.  Forgiving… without forgetting.

Beautiful Imperfection.

Posted in Bring on the Rain, Daddy Issues, Heart-to-Hearts, life, Love, Marriage, My Mom, Weddings on December 22, 2008 by Danielle Self

Its amazing the amount of things that can happen when you aren’t paying attention.

In the past year, I moved, went back to school, got re-engaged, dropped back out of school, got in a wreck, got a new car, decided said new car was a junker, got married, got in another wreck, lost a best friend, gained a new best friend, lost my father, got married again, and am now awaiting another move in a week.

Today is December 22, 2008 and I have been legally married to my husband for nearly 3 months now even though we just had the wedding on the 18th. It was beautiful. Of course there were a few things that didn’t go perfectly but really that’s part of what made it so beautiful.

As I sit here at my new mother-in-law’s house and watch my husband sleep in his signature pose (mouth WIDE open), I can’t help but realize how lucky I am to find a match that fits me so well. No, he’s not perfect. But neither am I. We argue… we fight… we definitely disagree on some things… but all in all we are each other’s perfect balance.

Its odd to think about how one minor decision changed on either side could have altered everything. Now I couldn’t be more thankful for my past drinking problems and his failure to even show up to his classes.

Not only has my marital status changed, but so has my religious status. A self proclaimed atheist mere weeks ago, I’m ready to start believing there is a God again. I’m still not so sure about this Heaven and Hell stuff… but I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no way that all of the things that happened to get me here writing this today could have happened without a little guidance from the giant puppeteer in the sky.

Also, if there were no God… then how could I feel my dad watching me right now as I type? I miss him. More than I thought I would, to be honest. I guess its the old saying that you never really know what you have until its gone. Yes, he made many many many mistakes and for a while I really and truly hated him for it. But it was another one of those things that had it not happened, my life would have been drastically different and I’m 100% positive that I wouldn’t be sitting here next to my prissy little puppy and snoozing husband.

Now, I’m about to head back off to Hawaii. The one thing that crosses my mind? How desperately I’m going to miss my mom. There are other people and things I’m going to miss here… but my mom. My mom has been my rock for so long and kept me grounded and heading in the right direction. She’s not perfect… but we’re developing the perfect balance in our relationship more and more everyday. Its so easy to take people for granted until they are taken away from you. I know that my mom will always be there for me… but its different when you are 4,000 miles away. I’ll just have to keep my promise of no babies until I’m back in the Continental so she can spoil them properly.

In a messy room… filled with dirty clothes, beer, game cords, not much money, but a whole lot of love… I must say that I am easily one of the luckiest people in the world.

LAX and all the joys it brings

Posted in Heart-to-Hearts on March 20, 2008 by Danielle Self

I love getting emails from people you forgot about- or even better- people you assumed had forgotten about you.  That magical moment when you see their name in your inbox can’t be explained.  Before even reading the email you start to smile because that means that even for a brief moment you were on their mind.

With that being said, I opened up my email today to see that LA Lawyer had written me.  Now, not many of my friends know about LA Lawyer seeing as its kind of a complicated situation and most of my friends are shallow enough to deem me “skanky” after I continued to keep in contact with him.  Therefore- I’m going to put this out in bloggy land and gush there.

On my semi-recent flight back home, I met someone.  An amazing someone to be exact.  First of all I would like to point out that I was taking my 2 year old niece back home and had already been stripped of my ring so I slightly resembled a scared (yet very trendy- I might add) single mother. Therefore, I expected to get 0 looks… much less talks and subsequent exchanging of phone numbers and emails.  Anyways- this amazing someone sat next to me on the long flight from LA to Houston.  At first I was a little nervous seeing as its a fairly lengthy flight and I don’t like being that close to people I don’t know.  But, nevertheless, this very attractive man introduced himself and commented on how cute my “daughter” was.  I quickly explained that I am no mother, simply a very caring, helpful, nice, sweet, loving sister who bends over backwards for the men in her life. (Ha! I’m not lying… I swear) My niece fell asleep within the first 10 minutes of flight leaving the entire time to just LA Lawyer and me.

We talked about everything from college, to parents, to love, to life in general.  I’m telling you- this man probably knows more about me now than some of my closest friends.  I kid you not.  He told me a multitude of things about himself including how he grew up in Beverly Hills, he is Yale Alumni, he was starting guard 4 years on the basketball team at Yale, he is a lawyer in a prestigious law firm in LA, he has 2 sons- one of which is 13 (Um… 6 years younger than me?! EEEK!), he is divorced, single etc. etc. At this point I’m thinking- Wow nice guy… but you would think that he would come up with a better story than being a rich, successful, intelligent, driven, attractive, stable guy who loves kids and is interested in me.  I mean, those just don’t sit next to you on every flight.  We talked a little about age and I begrudgingly told him how old I really was.  I could tell that he was a lot older than me and it would have been a lot better to say I was oh… 25. But no- damn my honest nature. He kind of chuckled a bit but never actually said how old he was.  There was not a silent moment the entire flight.  I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him.  When the pilot came over the intercom to say that we were landing- my heart dropped.  I knew that these past few wonderful hours were coming to a close and there would be nothing more of it.  He is a late thirties (or so I thought) lawyer living in LA and I’m a 19 year old college student taking a break from school to live in Hawaii.  Right before the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign he turned to me and said “******, I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.  I know this seems crazy, but I really want to see you again.  And soon.  Lets figure something out so we can get to know each other more. Heres my card. My cell phone number is on the back. Please, call.” Then away he went down the isle as my jaw rests lightly on the floor because THAT just happened.  The last flight of the day I was in total La La Land and feeling quite confident about myself as well.

When I got home, the La La Land feeling had faded and I got to thinking- this guy surely must be a con artist and has an amazing back story to make every girl swoon.   Um, no. Me being the delightfully resourceful/nosy/stalker that I am, Googled Him. Yes, I did. And I didn’t have to search far either.  The very first link that came up was LA Lawyer. It was the firm’s website where they had an entire page filled to the brim with his accomplishments including all the ones he had told me about and more.  Um- anyone watch CNN’s Burden of Proof? He used to frequent that show as a main commentator.  I was floored. Partly to the fact that I saw his graduation year from Law School was a number of years before I was even born.

Regardless of his age, I still had to talk to him again.  Since I am a Southern Belle and we like to pretend its the 1800s, I was always taught that a lady is NEVER to call a gentleman whom there may be romantic interest until there is an established relationship. I stray from this occasionally but generally am pretty good about it. Therefore, instead of calling, I emailed.  (I never said there weren’t loop holes.) The next day, I had a reply.  We kept up daily emails for about 3 weeks until I started freaking out that he was planning on coming to Hawaii in 2 weeks to see me.  Uh- yes.  MAJOR FREAK OUT.  I mean what exactly does a mid-40s man expect when flying out to see a 19 yr old that he met on a plane once? I had NO idea… I can’t get into bars… I wasn’t sure how comfortable I would be hanging out in his hotel or whatever… I freaked out and stopped emailing.  Seeing as he would have spent last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning here, last Monday I decided to email him back a response and just say I got “really busy at work and things have been hectic.” I honestly didn’t expect a reply from him…. but today I got one! And I’m happy about it too.  I’m not thinking that coming to visit me in NWA has the same lure of visiting me in HNL though. ;-)