Mystery Phone Call

It's so difficult to hear my phone ring and see it say "Mom".  Because for one, it's not my mom calling.  She's dead.  She can only speak to me in dreams now.  And for two, it's my dad.  Maybe I'm an awful daughter.  I haven't contacted him since this summer.

So, he left an unintelligible message.  I couldn't understand it at all.  He was yelling too close to the mouthpiece of the phone.  Maybe he wasn't yelling, maybe it was his regular phone voice.  But it was spooky.

I didn't call back.  I just couldn't.  I'm such a hypocrite.  I watch people in movies and TV shows - in fictional scenarios - and I think, just do it - just call him back and get it over with and feel relief.  But, I just can't.  I want my mommy.  I want someone to hold my hand and lead me through it, to protect me. But there is no one.  And my mom tried to shield me for way too long.  That definitely wore on her health - protecting others from the wrath of my father.

You know, I've read those two books about dealing with a person with BPD.  They helped a lot.  They were a revelation.  But, does my knowledge make it any easier to deal with this man who... terrorized me as a child, kept me from coming home too often or for too long in college, and didn't motivate me to save money or take time off from work to go home for the holidays.

I know that in essence he can't physically hurt me.  He can't financially hurt me either.  I mean, if he were to exclude me from his will, it wouldn't really be that big of a deal - I always figured as a kid that he would disown me one day.  Maybe because that was always his big threat - disowning us.  But, did he ever really "own" us?  I mean, you don't own your kids.  You don't even truly own pets.  Sure, my dad payed for me, gave me a roof over my head (even though it fell on me at a young age), fed me, clothed me, sent me to school, and helped me out later when I needed money.  But, so did my mom, moreso than my dad.

It's gotta be a bad feeling to think one has ungrateful children.  I'm not ungrateful, I just am emotionally vulnerable.  The longer the gap between communication with my dad, the harder it is to make that connection.

You may notice, that I haven't written on this blog much in the past several months.  I just haven't had anything useful, soul baring, or even meaningful to write on the topic.

But now, here I sit, writing this blog, instead of returning the phone call.  I know I need to, but I don't know if there's enough alcohol in the world to make this phone call easier.