He Does Love Me

April 30th, 2008; 10:36 PM

Current mood:okay

 I finally figured it out. I was talking to my Uncle Edgar. He's like my surrogate father. He's my father's brother...and he's basically always there for me the way my father never was able to be. He's steady. Calm. Together. I love him very much. And I know he loves me and is always rooting for me. He's proud of me and tells me so. He makes me feel so much better when I'm having a hard day. He reminds me of why I am a good person, and of all of the things that I should be very proud of. He doesn't let me forget the good stuff. (Which is so easy to do when I'm depressed.)

I actually told him about the thoughts that wake me...pertaining to my father. The thought that "My father hates me." goes through my mind when I'm stressed out. It's a completely irrational thought. And I try to combat it. Unfortunately, it stems from my unconscious mind. It drifts into my thoughts while I'm still asleep, early in the morning, and actually wakes me up. I really hate that because this is the time of the day, that I should be resting and relaxed. I should be happy. I want to wake up refreshed, rested, and excited about the day. And thoughts like these put the kibbosh on all of that. Plus..did I mention that it's unwanted and irrational. If I realize I'm having these thoughts, and I'm awake, I will say to myself.."Delete, delete, delete...That's not true. Your father loves you very much." When I spoke to my uncle, he said that it's not irrational. It makes perfect sense. These thoughts only come up when I'm really stressed out, and he said that it was normal to want my father to be there for me when I needed him, when life was really hard. But that I just can't depend on him, and never have been able to, so it's normal to come to the conclusion that it's because he doesn't love me. It makes sense. If he loved me, he'd be there. It was my aha moment. It makes so much sense. I wasn't able to figure it out on my own. So silly really. ...We both agreed that it wasn't about weather or not my father loved me really. We both know he does. It's just that he's not able to be there. It's just who he is. It has nothing to do with love or hate.

After talking to my Uncle, I had to call my dad. I just had to hear him say that he loved me. He did. He told me that he always loved me. My dad was still my dad...and when he got my call...didn't seem to notice that I was upset, or that it was strange that I called him. (We talk maybe once a year..or every few years.) He wanted to talk about the movie premier he went to and how Andy Garcia was there. He also talked about Chaucer, the soup kitchen in Venezuela, and my Great Uncle who is a translator and still takes motorcycle taxis across Caracas at the age of 90-something, and how women in America are too hung up on age (he's turning 60 this year and still hasn't given up hope of siring a male heir)... That's my dad. For better or for worse..but he does love me.