I've been under the weather, and I think there's more than one reason contributing to that.
However, I think the most obvious reason has to do with the fact that I ate something that had been in the fridge for about a week... π€’
and confess to the fact that there was no lid. π
The next day after throwing up my food, I ended up with a fever, but thankfully the said fever wasn't too bad... or at least I think 100.2° F doesn't count as too terrible a fever, does it? π‘️
So what part am I not feeling better?
Well, I think it has to do with the fact it is Father's Day, and it brings emphasis to... well... a lot of things, but for the sake of this post, I'll just keep it about dads.
Conveniently listening to a song about regrets, I feel like that's what's become of my life.
I'm already behind on life as it is (no graduation, no car, etc.) but at the same time, it's like as if there is a part of me that is stuck in the past... a part of me that really wants my father's affection, even though common sense and real life tell me otherwise.
No, no, my dad's not dead or anything... but if he's never going to reach out to me, why should I care? I'll go even further: why do I allow myself to be hurt over his neglect?
I've forgiven him for such emotional neglect, but why keep expecting something from someone who's obviously not going to change? Is it because I come from his genes, and terrified of the idea that the lack of change that is in him has been passed to me? Could it be that I have his stubbornness, and choose to believe, even if a little bit, that he will change before his inevitable death? Could it be that I've been predisposed with an insane level of mercy towards people who don't deserve it, even if it means being stepped all over myself?
Because I know so little about myself and life, I leave these remarks as questions instead of just matter of fact. Who knows, like everything else, my mind could be racing in one direction when the reality of it all is something completely different.
Despite all the confusion, I am certain of a few things:
- My dad wasn't there for me when I needed him, and that's okay. He didn't need to be perfect, and I refuse to give in to the temptation of harboring any bitterness towards him.
- Because of his actions, or the lack thereof, I had allowed myself to be susceptible to things that should have been avoided, such as making really bad decisions. I say it in this manner because just because my dad wasn't there for me, that doesn't change how old I am now and how I need to be acting as an adult.
- Unless I do something, I'm just going to be living this vicious cycle over and over again, which, if you think about it, means I deserve all the crap that I get.