How do you let go?

The basic thing nobody asks is why do people take drugs of any sort? Why do we have these accessories to normal living to live? I mean, is there something wrong with society that's making us so pressurized, that we cannot live without guarding ourselves against it? -John Lennon


So here it is 6 am and I really haven't slept all night. Mainly because I had a dream last night about Daddy. I am not sure if it is because his birthday just passed or if because in just a few weeks marks the 3rd anniversary of his death. I just know that I don't want to dream of him, that it does nothing for the pain and the anger except make it worse.


It has been almost 3 years and as time goes by I just get even more angry. Angry because yet again the drugs were more important. More important than my happiness, more important than watching me walk down the isle to receive my diploma a week later, more important than seeing the life I have built for myself, more important than meeting my husband and daughter, more important than seeing me grow into the woman I have become. My mom says all the time that I shouldn't be angry, that drugs have a hold on people. Well you know what, I just think that is bull. There are people who get clean and sober all the time and I can't help but think that this whole "product of your environment" crap is just that-A LOAD OF CRAP! People make choices. People decide what they want for themselves and their children. My whole life, I was surrounded by drugs. My mom did them, my dad did them, most of my friends did them, ALL of my family did them. BUT I DIDN'T! I hate to even drink really. It hurts to think that my dad made his choice. He chose to get high that day knowing that just a week later I was graduating. He chose to miss most of my life because he wanted a "fix". I just don't get it, nor will I probably ever. I just know it hurts. I know that is something that I will never get over and pain that will never ever go away. It's been 3 whole years and I am still so angry. I don't know if it is because of why or when or the fact that I didn't get to even go to his funeral to get closure. I know it's real. I know he's gone. I have been to his grave several times since then to put flowers and a pic of caylee and to let him know that I am still Daddy's Little Princess. You know, it's such a shitty feeling when there are hardly any good memories, mostly only ones of him being high or drunk and forgetting that he promised to pick me up for the weekend. I was little but I remember. And I remember my mom always trying to make excuses for him so I wouldn't hate him. And I remember her holding me while I cried because YET AGAIN he forgot about me. There are good memories, like him calling me princess pretty much my whole life, or him teaching me how to ride a bike in his front yard, or the time when i was really really little and I stabbed him in the hand with the fork and he just gave me that look loll. Or the times we went to uncle Shane's so I could play with Candace and Chris. Christmas at the house with my grandma and aunt kitty and all my little cousins and big cousin blane. I remember all that, but for some reason-it's the painful memories like him getting so drunk while he had me at a fair when i was only a toddler, that the police had to take me and bring me back home, or him getting high with me sitting right next to him, or the DOZENS of times he was supposed to pick me up for the weekend but was too drunk to remember. That hurts. And I just don't get why I was never important enough for him. I just want to know. I just wish I could ask, "Daddy, why was I never good enough?" I hear he has another daughter and I am thankful that she didn't have to know him like I did because I would rather not have to live with this pain and anger. I would rather never have to remember all the hurt he caused me as a kid and the hate I felt for my mother because I thought she was just being mean. In my eyes, that girl is lucky.


I just have to end by saying that in a way I am thankful. I am thankful because I am the parent [no offense to you momma] that my parents never were. My daughter will never be exposed to the drugs and alcohol like I was. She will never in her life question "Why aren't I as important as the drugs?" She will never EVER as long as I live have to worry about being forgotten because I am too high to remember I promised to pick her up. She will NEVER feel that pain. It is hard enough for me to live with, to know that Daddy will never ever meet her or see the precious and beautiful little girl she is. And how much she is just like me. She'll never know that.