Getting Out

I thought bringing my dad home from the airport would be similar to the other times I did. Him talking my ear off about his month-long-trip visiting my brother and his friends out west/Texas. It wasn't. Driving my dad home, trapped in my car with him, with my anxiety and blood pressure sky high the entire time, if it wasn't any wonder by the time he got out of my car, I bald my eyes out from relief, pain and sadness all the way home to Sean.

I need to gain more coping skills, because he used this time to pry into my life. Anyone who knows me, knows how easy it is for me to share vulnerable information at really any given time. I know my dad isn't a safe person share those things with, but yet, I continued to share as he asked hard questions and brought up difficult topics.

Where to begin... he got into my car with his Red Trump Hat and scolded me for relaying the codes from his check engine light in his car too harshly, just the day before. He said "I'll give you a little tip when calling someone. Don't tell them their *car is fucked* (I said "your shits fucked), just give them what the codes were and ask them how you can help." He clearly doesn't understand my humor. I literally was just quoting Sean's opinion of the look on the Autozone man's facial expressions who was reading the codes and printed them out for us. Scrolling through each code he said, "Looks like there is a misfire in... cylinder 3." *scrolls more* "And in cylinder 2." *scrolls a lot more* "Ahhhh, in every cylinder but 4 actually and a few other things." He looked at us and even through his mask his face looked like "You don't notice anything wrong with the car? It must be running funny, how did you even get it here?"

Next stop death/family/religion. (a big one) While my dad was gone this past month, my grand father died. (on my mom's side) He was the ONLY one who reached out to tell me and told me. Since than, I found out everyone was rallied together and specifically instructed not to tell or invite me, and to stop talking to me all together!

A cousin of mine informing me of unhealthy family behavior.

But my sister messaged my dad who than told me. During our car ride home I found that my sister caught flak from the family after I shared screen shots of my dad and I's conversation on my socials. All because I truly wasn't meant to know or be invited. While that sucks, that isn't the worst part of this car ride. My dad continued to ask me if I went to the services to "paid my respects". I told him that "funerals are for the living, not the dead. And since none of the living wanted or invited me, and went well out of their way to try and prevent me to come or even know about his death, I wasn't going. What reason is there?" He continued to tell me that it would be respectful to my grandfather and to show up for him. You know, the deceased one, to let him know he cared.

Hence, religion talk. I told my dad that I was agnostic-atheist. This was the first in depth religious conversation we have had since I told him I denounced my membership and removed my records with the Mormon cult. I don't believe in an after life, my grandfather was dead. We don't have proof that there is any observable consciousness after death; showing up to a funeral means nothing to me especially considering I was so unwelcome to everyone else in attendance. It would be disrespectful to show up. Plus, Covid.

My than dad informed me that my brother was at one of the services and I would have gotten to see him. You know the brother who does want to be in my life, which I reminded my dad. One of the services location/time was mentioned on his Obituary, but the other wasn't. That's when my dad told me that I should pick up the phone and call my family and chat with them. I just glared into the 4 lanes of traffic grateful this wasn't a conversation I had to have face to face where he could see my anger building up. You can read my goodbye to my grandfather, and the complications around it in my blog linked here, Goodbye.

NEXT trigger topic! My Mental health. This one is a doozy, hope you are wearing your seat belt Something my dad is incredibly ill equipped to be speaking on. His favorite tool to whip out is "Have you been talking to your therapist and counselor?" He does this because he thinks the question is caring, when really he just wants to point out what you are doing wrong, and what you could be doing better, according to HIM and his infinite wisdom on mental health.

#1 I've never had a therapist and counselor at the same time. I've had one or the other, and the only thing that separates themselves is usually further education and one is licensed. Therapists have a masters degree in psychology! Therapists can offer long term care. Counselors, like the kind in your high school... don't. They are social workers! Most social workers don't take up long term therapy, or have the proper training and education I need. Though, the terms are rather interchangeable and it depends on the person you are talking to what they prefer; I've never had both. Mainly because insurance doesn't allow that. Of course all this is what runs through my mind when he asks this question, but rather trying to explain that all again I say, "Yes, I have been holding my weekly appointments".

#2 Then there is a lingering silence in the air as if he was expecting more juicey details he could poke holes through. He egged me on and said "aaaaand what kind of instructions have they given you before? Are you following them?" Accusing me of not getting better because I'm not listening to professionals advise. Of course I was dumb enough to share things from seeking medicine, getting gene tested to help improve my chances of psych meds doing their job, vipassana, my blogging, EMDR therapy, and one even suggested an ayahuasca retreat. My dad was quick to judge each one. On our trip down to the airport a month ago I told him about me seeking EMDR therapy for my PTSD. He brought up on the way home "yeah I've been thinking about that since we last talked and I think that it is an extremely unsafe and a bad idea. How could shocking yourself be helpful?" I'm fairly certain, based on the words he used, he mixed up different forms of treatment we talked about. Including: Electric Convulsion Therapy (ECT), Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. (EMDR)

My dad..... *face palm*

When I told him that there is research and studies proving these treatment methods helpful and I would be seeking them because I have run out of options with typical CBT (cognitive Behavioral therapy), he scoffed. He said "if XYZ is so beneficial why aren't more therapists doing it than?" I just wanted to break down and cry. A man who literally couldn't tell you the different between a Psychologist and a Psychiatrist wants to tell me what is best for "his daughter". So I told him the answer to his question again; knowing he isn't actually listening and will ask the same line of questioning 6 months months from now when he doesn't see the success he wants from me.... TRAINING/EDUCATION/MONEY. It's not easy to get extra training and certification in a career field that is constantly growing and changing. Finding time to get it done is hard once you have your full time job and a weekly patient list dependent on you. And me as a patient can't always afford it even if it is offered when I have limited resources with medical expenses/insurance. At least that is what I hope is the answer to his question was, because I couldn't take anymore of my dad belittling me with his own narrative that I'm not doing my best looking for proper care. I guess he thinks I like living every day wishing it was my last and that I'd get the courage to off myself already. Yeah, this life of mine is just peachy.

His last advise on therapy was "I know you do a fair amount of talking. I hope you let them have a moment to give instructions and talk back, otherwise just venting isn't going to help you either." Dig, after dig, after dig, he dug himself back into his hole. Undoing all the progress we have made in our relationship as a father daughter, and me never wanting to trust him with my personal life.

I wasn't asking for his advise, and I most certainly didn't need it.

He doesn't even BELIEVE mental illness is real. He thinks "it is all in your head." How... ironic. lol He even had the nerve to tell me that my mental health treatment is what was giving me my hallucinations that I was experiencing while practicing the Mormon faith. (You can read about some of them here.) It definitely had nothing to do with that fact what I was experiencing growing up in the Mormon cult, was traumatizing. That was the reason he brought the mental health topic in the first place. All these triggering conversations intertwined on a heart wrenching 1.5 hour car ride home. He is full of pure ignorance.

I know this is where people might tell me that I need to continue helping educate my dad. "He's family and if he really cares and wants to be in my life he will learn for you". For those who feel that way, I'm 27. My mental health has been a hot topic since the age of twelve. I Had a major suicide while living under his roof. He's had the time. And my patience has run out.

I'm so grateful I got to talk about all this with my therapist the following day. Writing this out gave me an outline of the things that happen so I could with her how to communicate with my dad better. Or if I will be continuing to communicating with him at all from here on out. I don't want to miss anything either of us said and I wanted her honest opinion.

But we aren't done with topics today! He sure hit the fucking jack pot going home last night, there wasn't one topic he wasn't itching to vent to me about. My dad talks to me like we share political opinions. He has no problem being openly homophobic, racist or bigoted. He just says it. It just falls out of his mouth. So the only thing I'm going to share today about his political beliefs is that he is worried someone is going to come into his house and take his guns..... his words exactly? "They are going to have to pry it from my cold dead hands." I replied and I quote "gun laws don't concern me because I am neither legally allowed to own one, nor ever wanted to own one." This is because of my past mental health hospitalizations, I'm not allowed to ever own a gun.I am usually against people using the phrase "It doesn't affect me therefore I don't care." but in this specific case, I find it relevant and important to distance myself from his conversation by sharing that I'm not like him. It seemed to do the job of silencing the filth he was spewing, but than again we were almost home and just pulled off his exit from the interstate.

Lastly he said "if you thought 2020 was hard, wait until 2021." I replied humbly, "surprisingly, this year has been the best one I've had in a while." My dad completely forgetting I have felony traffic charges for trying to kill myself in Jan 2018 by driving my car into a tree at 75mph.... had the audacity to reply to my comment about this year being a better than the past with a

"yeah everyone is collecting benefits now...."

All I said to this was "yeah all $648 a month I get and $425 of it goes to rent."

Apparently the sole reason I had a better year than the past was because I was on disability. (if you really want updates on how poor I am, read this blog here.) Disability is actually one of the worst parts about the past year that he is throwing glitter on, dressing it up, and forcing me to try and see it as a crutch. Don't get me wrong I am grateful for the help, if you want my indepth opinion about disability read the linked blog above. But this year being a better year than the past surely couldn't have anything to do with me having a romantic relationship with someone stable who wants me in their life. Someone who treats me right and loves me deeply. Definitely not because of moving out of my dads and into a decent apartment, with said lover, together for privacy and independence. It can't be because I left the Mormon cult two years ago and am finally starting to heal from years of it's trauma. But sure, keep praying for me dad that I'll come back to the fold because "it's still in me." (I had to ask what exactly was "still in me"... he said "my belief" in the church. lol)

This is NOT the kind of person I want in my life. I'm not proud of the person he is. Socially I go by first and middle name to have no relation to him or his side of the family. He's been an embarrassment to me for years. From being kicked out of wrestling tournaments when I was ten years old, watching police escort him off of school property because of his explosive anger, to him blatantly disrespecting my sisters children after my sister announced updates of my oldest nieces health diagnosis in front of my new boyfriend last thanksgiving. It was Sean's first experience of my family together. He was disappointed that directly after Meghan asked the entire family to "Stop asking when her oldest will be potty trained or achieve other child-milestones yet to be reached." That my dad did just that, saying if her parenting was better/more persistent, his granddaughter would already be potty trained.

I've cut my dad out of my life before, and honestly other than his lavish gifts, I don't see a reason to keep him around. It sounds extremely shallow to keep any relationship going, I'm aware. I don't want his gifts. This isn't a fair trade to me at all. My therapist and I talked about "doing what you need to survive" and how I am now learning to let go of things that I no longer need or serve me.

Sean has even told me multiple times he truly believes my dad is trying to be a good person and father to me. "Trying", being the key word he put emphasis on. It doesn't make him successful. That was something my therapist pointed out too. "Some peoples best is still shitty. It doesn't mean they deserve to be in your life though."

But every time our conversations go like that, and I'm left alone with his vile word vomit of judgments, I break. It needs to stop. I can't see my dad unsupervised anymore. To be around someone so disgusting makes me feel icky inside. Does he feel this icky when he is around me? Ugh. I know he doesn't know how bad he is. Since than Sean has agreed to come along and play referee to curve these experiences. My dad doesn't treat me nearly as bad with someone else in the room. The solution is when he calls and asks for help that Sean and I am a package deal. If Sean isn't available to tag along, my dad won't see me. Flat tire, quick favor ride or locking yourself out of the house- I won't be there if I don't have Sean. And likewise, my dad isn't someone I am calling on for help either.

I know my dad is demeaning, he over shadows any progress I have made in my life with harsh criticisms. ( the progress this year I've made as an adult, but gives credit to just disability) He Interrupts my replies to his prying questions with more harsh judgement. I never realized how uneducated my father was until the past few years of immersing myself into truth and knowledge. I'm not *better* than my dad for being more educated on these topics, but I am more loving. I truly think that my dad doesn't think highly of me and can't unless I live a life exactly according to his rule. Which if you didn't know, will never happen.

Forcing family gatherings. sending group mass texts and saying everything is fine just because you want everyone to show up to your dinner table for the holidays is not the kind of family my dad has. It's the kind of family he wants. The sooner he realizes the reason why our family struggles has direct ties to our collective traumatic past, that I am trying to heal from as he just sweeps it under the rug, the better life will be for everyone in his circle of influence. But I think I'm taking a hardy step out of that circle for a little bit!