Sunday, August 01, 2004
"Sassy, you're so amazingly strong." "You've been through so much, you're a survivor."
Yeah, whatever. I'm sick of being "strong". I'm sick of being a "survivor". I'm sick of facing obstacle after obstacle while the world sits back and watches. I'm not a freaking superhero. Simply being alive is exhausting anymore. I'm tired. Is it so wrong to simply want to be rescued once in a while? Is it so bad to want someone to be there to pat me on the head and say, "Wait here while I go fix things."?? I don't get that euphoria of accomplishment when I prevail over the latest disaster because I've faced so damned many of them I'm numb from it all. And the next one is never very far away anyway. And the most hilarious thing is, I haven't been through anything that hundreds of thousands of people aren't going through at this very minute in this country. "Surviving" is living through cancer or a place crash. "Strong" is getting through the death of a child and still managing to keep your job to feed the rest of your family. Those words don't describe me. "Strong Survivors" don't sit at home at night fantasizing that the Prize Patrol will show up and solve all their worries, or that their estranged spouse would die a horrific, wrongful death so there'd be no divorce, no custody, no child support, no visitation, and a huge windfall to boot. They don't pray for the day both their kids are in school so they can save money on daycare and get the kids out of their hair 5 days a week. And they certainly don't wish they lacked the morals that prevent them from bludgeoning the lazy, drunken, asshole of a father of their own children with a baseball bat.
Why do my children fall for "Fun Daddy"? Every time, they fall for it. I want to scream, "THIS IS INSANE BEHAVIOR! STOP REWARDING HIM!!" But they go along with his act anyway. He screams, yells, threatens, swears, intimidates and hates. Then his sanity returns, and instead of "Sorry", he shifts into "Fun Daddy", pouring on the energy and enthusiasm, taking them out for burgers or ice cream, to the park, to the zoo, to the mall, whatever he can muster. And they go along with it. It's as if the abuse never happened. I just want to vomit. There's nothing I can do--what could I do? Say, "Stop being nice!"?? I fucking give up. I just quit. I can't fight the craziness.
Yeah, whatever. I'm sick of being "strong". I'm sick of being a "survivor". I'm sick of facing obstacle after obstacle while the world sits back and watches. I'm not a freaking superhero. Simply being alive is exhausting anymore. I'm tired. Is it so wrong to simply want to be rescued once in a while? Is it so bad to want someone to be there to pat me on the head and say, "Wait here while I go fix things."?? I don't get that euphoria of accomplishment when I prevail over the latest disaster because I've faced so damned many of them I'm numb from it all. And the next one is never very far away anyway. And the most hilarious thing is, I haven't been through anything that hundreds of thousands of people aren't going through at this very minute in this country. "Surviving" is living through cancer or a place crash. "Strong" is getting through the death of a child and still managing to keep your job to feed the rest of your family. Those words don't describe me. "Strong Survivors" don't sit at home at night fantasizing that the Prize Patrol will show up and solve all their worries, or that their estranged spouse would die a horrific, wrongful death so there'd be no divorce, no custody, no child support, no visitation, and a huge windfall to boot. They don't pray for the day both their kids are in school so they can save money on daycare and get the kids out of their hair 5 days a week. And they certainly don't wish they lacked the morals that prevent them from bludgeoning the lazy, drunken, asshole of a father of their own children with a baseball bat.
Why do my children fall for "Fun Daddy"? Every time, they fall for it. I want to scream, "THIS IS INSANE BEHAVIOR! STOP REWARDING HIM!!" But they go along with his act anyway. He screams, yells, threatens, swears, intimidates and hates. Then his sanity returns, and instead of "Sorry", he shifts into "Fun Daddy", pouring on the energy and enthusiasm, taking them out for burgers or ice cream, to the park, to the zoo, to the mall, whatever he can muster. And they go along with it. It's as if the abuse never happened. I just want to vomit. There's nothing I can do--what could I do? Say, "Stop being nice!"?? I fucking give up. I just quit. I can't fight the craziness.
Comments:
Post a Comment
