christmas thoughts

So. I love my family, mostly. But I really don't want to see my dad for Christmas this year.

I'm hoping it'll be like last year and he'll want to just be with his new family and he'll have too much back pain to drive down here. Because I'm tired of trying to make it work with him. I hate going to visit my country grandparents and feeling like a fucking martian. I love my grandparents a lot. I just don't have anything to say to them.

They don't live in the same world I live in. It's like whenever I am around them I am constantly reminded of this vision of "normalcy" that I will never live up to. This phenomenon is magnified with my dad, who I want to see even less than my grandparents. And it's not that I don't want to see them, it's that I don't want to feel the sick-in-my-bones feeling I get when I visit.

I've talked about that feeling before. I try to avoid it at as much as possible. I don't think anyone, ever, should have to feel that. Even if it means eschewing familial obligations.

I hate that word, obligation. It implies that you owe people (in this case, your family) something, and I am of the school that you don't owe shit to anyone, especially not your parents. I do things for my close family and friends because I love them and helping them makes me feel good. It is enriching. Obligation does not drive me. Not in the least.

But. I do, at times, feel the pull of the family obligation. I think it's bullshit though because seeing my dad's side most often leaves me feeling empty, drained, sick, not-good. Mostly because of my dad. And then I feel guilty because as much as I see them (which is never) is all I can handle of them. So where does that leave obligation? Fucked. Which is right where it needs to be.

It makes me sad, the whole mess. The fact that my dad sucks and will never be Mr. Rogers or my old Psychiatrist or anyone besides someone who gives me money sometimes and activates my anger a lot. And I am ok with that, to a point. I try and have this superficial-type relationship with him. Talk to him on the phone occasionally, tell him I'm doing good in school, ask him about the weather in New Mexico (seriously). And I let go of so fucking much to be able to do that. But guess who lets go of nothing? Him. Like all that bullshit with the Presidential Elections and his insistence upon talking fucking politics with me. I've known for years that the last thing I would ever want to do is talk about

And my sister hasn't talked to him in two years, except for the time he came to Tulsa and we surprised her at work.

So what do I do with all that? I mean, shit. I try to have sympathy for him because I know he misses us and feels guilty about not being more present in our lives. But he shouldn't feel guilty because I consider his absence, sadly, a gift.

So, yeah. Layers. Upon layers.