I had a conversation with my father the other day that triggered me in a couple of different ways.

First off, just a few days ago, I was greatly anticipating the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. I get 5 days off in a row, and I was trying to coordinate with my sister what the best way to get together with her family might be. I was greatly looking forward to seeing her again as well as my nephew and 3 neices. We were also trying to coordinate a situation with my aunt to get together with us as well. It's about a 5 hour drive, and I was actually planning on going down there for a night or two, and she was planning on coming up here for a night or two. Nothing is set in stone as of yet, and I'm completely fine with waiting until the last minute.

I'll be frank. When it comes to making plans, I freak out. I panic. When I'm going to leave town for a couple of days, I am filled with an immense amount of dread unless all of the planning is left up to someone else. Just tell me what days to take off, let me know how much money I need, and I'll go with the flow from there.

Then my dad comes into the picture. He wants to know right now what the plans are. He wants to know right now when he can see his grandkids. He wants to know right now what to do, and he won't fucking talk to my sister about it.

Three times now, I've told him that I'm waiting until they tell ME what's going on. I'm fine with that because I have a completely open schedule, and my sister is raising 4 kids with their various activities plus trying to work plus trying to teach a computer course plus trying to run a daycare plus trying to run an ebay business, and her husband works 60 hour weeks in addition to raising the kids as well. I'm the odd man out, and I'm just feeling fortunate that they want to spend time with me.

So here are the boundary issues. My father is constantly asking me to go gambling with him. How many times do I need to explain to him that I am a recovering gambling addict, and he is a full blown gambling addict? He's only available to go down to my sister's place for one night (leave late in the evening, come back early in the morning) because of poker obligations. I've tried to tell him so many times that I refuse to plan my life around his gambling obligations, and he refuses to listen. It's bad enough that I have to save money for his retirement because he's blown over a million dollars at the poker tables and in the slot machines over the course of his life. I just won't do it anymore.

But then he goes one step further and tells me that it won't be any problem for us to stay at my sister's house. We can sleep on the floor if we need to.

To hell with that. I'm NOT sleeping on a floor, and I'm NOT asking my sister if we can stay at her place. I told him flat out that he's going to need to talk to her if that's what he wants to do, but I'm keeping some money set aside for a hotel room just in case she doesn't invite us. He said, "that's okay. You can ask her for me."

And there I am, a ten year old kid again. I wanted to say, "ask her yourself, you fucking coward." Instead, I just smiled and nodded, playing the aloof without making a committment.

I have come to realize that I have so much unresolved crap to deal with as far as my father is concerned. I'm really pissed right now. I'd rather just stay home for the holiday and miss seeing my sister and her family, a family that I love dearly, than have to deal with the crap that my dad is putting me through right now.

So bad, I just want to say to him, "At some point, you're going to have to decide what's more important to you....your gambling or your family." I can't. And the fact that I can't makes me feel like such a fucking wimp.

I hate my fucking parents.


Revenge is nothing more than another way of perpetuating abuse.

What the world needs now
Is some new words of wisdom
Like la la la la la la la la la.
-David Lowery

Having a friend who will keep a secret for you is worthless compared to a friend who won't keep a secret from you.