Blogging, cheaper than therapy?

I am thankful for being turned on to this blogger site. I can't blog on myspace for I have family members there (ie; husband, his family, etc) that can read it and really maybe they SHOULD. I can come here and know there a select few that read and love me regardless and any other unknown readers may judge away and it won't hurt me one bit.

My family life is a rough one, but sadly probably not that uncommon. I grew up in a divorced family. My parents were divorced when I was five (still thinking this might be wrong, I might have been two, actually but for some reason five sticks out as a thumbnail in my life). My parents were young, my mom turned 17 a few months before I was born and my dad was almost 20. They made choices back then that were "young" of them. I hold no resentment. I couldn't imagine being that young having kids. I think they did the best they knew how at that age and time. Now though, I see more and more how much my childhood HAS affected me. So no resentment, but definitely awareness.

My dad has a drinking problem. He is one of the most functional alcoholics that I know...but it doesn't stop at alcohol. I remember one time he was driving me (DRIVING ME)down to college for the start of my second year. He was smoking pot, like they were cigarettes. Driving me. Smoking marijuana. It was not uncommon for my dad to be out at early morn mowing the grass drinking Lord and water. Never though do I ever remember seeing him DRUNK or HIGH or acting as if those elements affected him. He always seemed the same, maybe in truth, I never saw him sober. Anyway, I could never tell if he was drunk or high. My brother and I lived with my dad (maybe this is where the five comes in) for quite a few years before my mom regained custody. Since then, my dad has been in and out of my life. For years putting the sole responsibility of correspondence on me...at 11ish. It was crazy. I wanted more than anything though to have him in my life. I remember him coming around to the BIG things like graduation, my first wedding...etc. That was about all.

Speed up to today. I haven't spoken to my dad as previously posted. I called. I got the same story that he usually gives. Life is crazy. He is really working on getting his together. He has realized now at the ripe ole age of 53 that FAMILY is much more IMPORTANT than other things. Well he said family and work, I think the work part comes in because he lost his job a year or so ago because he failed the drug test. So he reconfirmed that yes he has my number, he knows my address and that he is going to try his hardest to keep in touch with me. I hung up. Glad I had made the call, but trying not to expect too much more than I have gotten in the past few years.

My brother has led a life much like my father. He got in trouble at an EARLY age (middle school, ok, maybe that 'early' doesn't need to be caps, but damn pretty young) for selling fake marijuana. His criminal record as a juvenile escalated and went into his adulthood. He has just gotten out of PRISON for the THIRD time. Ironically, he called me this same night that I had taken the plunge to call my...uh, our dad. I have always said that my brother is my father, but my father hasn't been punished for his wrong-doings. My brother IS my father. His voice, his mannerisms and quite frankly his crap about wanting to be better. I don't want to go back to that place, he says. I am going to do it this time, Stace. I want to have a relationship with you.

Skeptical as I am, DAMN IT, I want all those things they promise or say. I want them too, but ya know what? I think I am getting too old to believe it anymore. It's like Santa, just ain't there. I can't believe in something that isn't there. Sure, I can hope, and I can dream but the buck stops there.

So as my brother has taken a liking to my dad's lifestyle, I have taken a liking to marrying a man similar to my father. This statement infuriates Hubby. I think because he knows some of my hurt that my father has bestowed upon me. I think Hubby thinks that my father isn't much more than a father, basically he isn't a dad. Hubby is right in that, yes, Hubby is there for his child and Buggy for that matter. BUT, uhm. Yes, Hubby is like my father. Hubby drinks. Hubby drinks daily. Some of the same disappointments I have felt with my father are felt with Hubby. Good thing is, I don't have to live with my dad, yet, I kinda am. Hubby does NOT handle his alcohol in the way my dad did (does), which I think is a pretty good argument that Hubs isn't MEANT to be an alcoholic. Ask Hubby to give drinking up and you would think that he was asked to give up a limb. It's a disease. So I have heard and been told in Al Anon. This disease pisses me off, though I guess so would any other disease that I couldn't do a damn thing about! All in all, it is MY problem to deal with because Hubby isn't budging. In an argument this morning, Hubs said, "does all this have to do with your brother getting out?". UM, NO Dude this has to do with YOU. Even when we were in counseling, Hubby would leave there with the understanding in his own little warped brain that all of this was CAUSED by my feelings towards my family. NONE of this was HIM. So when that was expressed, I said, fine, let me go deal by myself then if it is me. Tune changed real quick then. *deedledee-deedledoo*

So here I am today. Little hopeful, though not unrealistic. In a mess of a marriage, but not willing to let it go just yet. I remember a couple times leaving my counseling sessions thinking, "That therapist thinks I am crazy" as she shakes her head. So go ahead. *shake your head* I do. It's ok. If life wasn't meant to be a little crazy then we wouldn't love Jerry Springer. OK that wasn't what I was going to originally say. If life wasn't meant to be crazy then it would have been really boring.

Much love for reading. :) Commence head shaking. ;)