standing up for myself

i did it. i wrote my dad an e-mail about my Schwab account. i talked about it with Lisa today, and we went through the scenario of how the "conversation" would go. (yeah, so e-mail isn't really a conversation, but it's the closest thing a wuss like me can get to communicating with my big bad scary father.) this is how i came to muster the courage and the tact to finally express to him what's been on my mind in a manner that i hope is healthy for me and will be construed by him to be reasonable and not accusative. (because i don't want to be accusative just yet...)

in my e-mail, i said:

(a) i was confused about the balance actually was (the total account value is $7000, there is only $1100 available to withdraw, and there is like -$12,000 in margin. i don't know what margin is, but i don't like that mine is negative.)

(b) i would like to take over complete control of my finances. i painted it as a "i'd like to be a more responsible adult" sort of thing rather than a "what the fuck have you done with all my money?!" sort of thing. i showed that i am competent and prepared by finding an e-savings account from Citibank that offers 5.0% APR. which is good, for a savings account. and that's all i need at this point in my life. i'm not making enough that i can be putting away tons and taking risks with my investments. i need something safe and secure, and the good interest rate is a plus.

and i am undestandably anxious now, waiting for his response. no wonder i felt like diving into that pint of ice cream sitting in the freezer: i just stood up to my dad. i rocked the boat. and i am scared as to how he is going to respond. but i shouldn't be. i made a perfectly reasonable request, and if it turns out he feels bad about losing me money, tough -- he should feel bad. wow. feeling and expressing anger, towards my father. wonders never cease.

why did i drink caffeine at 9pm?

because now i can't sleep. sigh. so, in an effort to exhaust myself i will write what is on my mind.

weekend: slow white practice at roger williams. goaltimate sat afternoon. played well. jasper later commented on my "sticky hands". woot. par-tay saturday night. lots of people got waaaasted. early, too. most of us were gone by 9pm. we are rock stars. teddy, kris, and steve puked, that i know of. stole rich's madison shirt sweet. played uber-hungover sunday, and remarkably played OK. drove home (took a little nap in the car as frank was driving). shower, laundry, dinner, TV. chatted with bill mill and sam wood. medicine men upset potomac at sectionals. harpoon pulled out a narrow win at their sectionals to make it to regionals.

what's on my mind:

guilt about lab, as usual. not really bad, but the normal anxiety i feel after fucking off for the entire weekend. analyzing my TIRFM data is still out of my control, which is not ideal, but i can manage. am energized to try try again tomorrow. would rock if i could get imageJ to work on my computer, so i could do the analysis anywhere...

dreaming about making a trip up to mass. this week. mainly to visit adrienne after her ACL surgery, but also to hit up boston and maybe play some goaltimate and visit beth (another ACL patient). could also try to help out at a BC practice with rosie, get together with bird at holy cross to throw, and hang out with peeps in beantown. but...this would irresponsible of me in a professional/scholastic sense, and could be construed as a waste of gas. but w/ev.

feeling fat, another unsurprising item on my list of things on my mind. funny how just one week of inactivity and bad eating can make you feel like a big fatso. also seeing other people (girls) happy and hooking up makes me feel ugly and fat and undesirable. but i shouldn't see things so black and white, and keep in mind that i do have a lot of friends who don't care what i look like. i will feel better after getting some exercise this week. i've never been very good at being moderate -- i ride the waves, have great weeks and bad ones, hardly ever long strings of "OK" ones.

stupid shit still on my to do list: make an appt with the mechanic, get our cable internet set-up, figure out my finances -- esp. the status of my schwab account. the latter item requires me to confront my dad about what he's been doing with my money. i'm not happy, angry in fact, but as we all know, i have issues with confronting my dad and expressing anger towards him. this could be a good practice for me...

frisbee! regionals in two weeks. practice this weekend was good -- ironed out the wrinkles in our dumps, transition offense, & zone D. i feel good going into regionals. i am pysched and motivated to get in a few more good workouts (3-4) before tapering a bit. i am confident we can win the region handily -- even without teddy, that bastard. i have been playing well, and if i can get over this stupid cold and get back to kicking my ass on the track, i will be in good shape.

people. feeling closer to teddy, which is nice. roger williams people are in general awesome and nice (and crazy partiers). living with edwin is going well. we both kinda do our own thing most of the time and seem OK with that. maybe try to do dinner once a week to catch up with each other? i still love slow white. newest member, bird, is just as awesome as the rest. miller has turned out to be a really good captain. for some reason, i'm a little bothered by the fact christina and farina are hooking up. am i jealous? or just sensitive to how it might affect the team dynamic? i dunno.

drugs. doing better on the lower dosage of paxil (down to 30mg/day from 40). weird dreams are less severe and frequent -- they still stick with me during the day, but they are less disturbing somehow. twitching has gotten better, too.

well, finally feeling a bit sleepy. we'll see if there's anything new on RSD and then maybe try this sleeping thing again.

breakthrough (#2?)

some people say that depression is simply misplaced anger. anger towards your friend, your spouse, your parent, your boss, or the world in general becomes directed inward, and you sink into a self-hate-filled depression. seems simple enough. but i was not prepared for the power of understanding the source of that anger.

i thought i hated myself, and just need to learn to be easier on myself. turns out i was angry at my dad. ergo, my depression = misplaced anger toward my father, for being an alcoholic.

it all fits. it all makes sense. i am angry at him for becoming an alcoholic.

if he hadn't become an alcoholic, he wouldn't have pushed me so hard in track and XC. if he hadn't pushed me so hard, i wouldn't have become anorexic. if i hadn't become anorexic, i would never have become a compulsive over-eater. if i weren't an over-eater, i wouldn't be fat. if i weren't fat, i would be happy. i blame my father for my unhappiness, for my failure, for everything.

i thought, just the other night, with memories of parents coming to sporting events fresh in my mind, if only i could go back in time...i would train harder...i would win state. i would do intervals until i puked. i wouldn't fail this time. i would be good enough.

but the thing is, i would never be good enough -- never good enough for my father. and that is not *my* shortcoming, but *his*. his unrealistic expectations are his issues. not mine.

anger. i am angry. at my dad.

i don't quite know what to do with my anger. i don't quite know what to do with anger in general, let alone this huge, monster of an anger that has been living beneath the surface inside of me for so long now. (over 10 years) do i hit something? scream? cry? go for a hard run? eat? yell at my dad -- let him know how angry i have been at him? or do i quietly forgive him, and move on? do i recognize that his being an alcoholic did not make me do anything?

how i responded is how i responded. true, if he hadn't been an alcoholic, things would have turned out much differently. but for the better and for the worse. maybe i wouldn't have the same work ethic, maybe i wouldn't be at Yale, and maybe i wouldn't be on slow white. will i recognize that i am free to be who i want to be now, that he has changed and so can i? that with forgiveness comes peace, and the chance to build something new and better.

regardless of how i choose to respond and deal with my anger, i feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. i am freed of a terrible, oppressive secret. i do not think that i am "cured" and that i will magically wake-up tomorrow and my life will be perfect, or that 6 months from now i will have lost 40 pounds, or anything like that. but i am changed in some significant, deep way. it's like i'm taking off a pair of tinted sunglasses and seeing the true colors of the world around me for the first time. i am still the same, the world is still the same, but i am seeing it in a different light. a door has opened before; possibilities have been created by the recognition and acceptance of this anger.

it's strange to think how long it's been there without me really noticing it. and why i've refused to notice it, and why i've gone to the lengths i have to conceal it. the human mind will do amazing things in times of stress.

like misplace anger.