I just heard a song and wow it made me bawl while I was driving I could hardly see through my tears. The song was by NF called How Could You Leave Us. The guy is rapping and singing about his mom not being there for him and eventually dying over an overdose from a pill addiction. He talks about the things they will or did miss out on. How he was angry but now wishes he just would have called her. Now one of the few sacred songs I really relate to.
It got me thinking. Ugh and as I type I have such a headache from crying. I was always such a daddy’s girl at heart but it was never a safe environment to allow myself to express that and so the need always got left unfulfilled. I think that’s why I always felt so alone because I just wanted my dad but he was scary or just plain negative and demanding, and eventually was a heroin addict. I don’t feel like he ever took care of me. Not like a good father. Not the way I needed.
Not only did I miss out on all of the child things growing up, but I missed out on him getting to experience and appreciate the person I had become, even in spite of him. I missed out on the adult experiences with him. I couldn’t just call him to meet up for lunch or coffee. I couldn’t go for him for adult or parental advice. I couldn’t expose my kids to him or him to my kids. He never got to see and be proud of my successes even though I was a teenage mother. He never got to tell me how proud he was for graduating. Getting promoted at work. Buying a house for me and my kids. Buying my first car on my own. Nothing. He was too busy and consumed with shooting up. I often just feel sorry for him because I believe he had a lot of the mental issues I now have and while I can understand why he was how he was, sometimes I am still so angry at him. Angry that he just wasn’t there for me. I felt like love always came at an expense or was just not there. He was too consumed to make room for real fatherly love. I’ve always lived in this fantasy world about what it’d be like if he were a good dad. Or if I had one. That’s how I coped. I fantasized constantly when I was little. I still do to this very day. Constantly seeking a replacement to fill this void that is still there.
I am an adult and yet I still feel like I am just as much of a daddy’s girl still waiting for him to show up and make things right. Like I’m stuck in this childlike state that I feel like I will never get out of. This part of me is still terrified, feeling unloved and neglected, has no voice and if I had to put a picture to her, she is huddled in a corner because being surrounded by walls is the safest form of embrace I ever found growing up. I relied on stuffed animals, “blankies”, fantasies and close small places like bathrooms or closets, which I still do.
It makes me wonder so many things. Will I ever be free from her? Will she ever grow up? Will she ever be ok? Did he ever realize, like really realize, what he was missing out on? Did he ever try to be better or did he just give up? Which hurts too but I try to understand.
I guess this causes a lot of inner conflict for me. Sometimes I feel like I have multiple personalities but I think instead I just have many parts of me and depending on what is happening at any given time determines which version of me you will get. And the version of me can change within a split second if my environment changes and I either feel safely vulnerable enough to let the little me come out, or the bigger badder scorned bitch to take over as a protector. And then there is “it”. The it. I haven’t figured out what “it” is but it taunts me. Makes me crazy.
I guess that’s it for now.