Happy Mother’s Day

I’m tapped out. I don’t have much to give right now. Usually, I’m up early and texting every mom I know to wish them a Happy Mother’s Day. I don't have it in me today.

I really wish I had not used up my retirement. I wish I had worked harder to get a job (although as hard as I work, there have been only a few small bites). I wish I had been more careful in my last job and not made that mistake that got me fired... although I would not be working today regardless because I was working in the travel industry — the cruise industry actually — which is now defunct. I wish I had not let myself gain this weight. I wish I had chosen to date even when I wasn't quite ready because now I am so very alone.

I know that I am so very very VERY blessed because I have so many friends and family members who care about me a LOT. I have more than most people, and the relationships I do have are all the many hands that lift me up and give me the love that every human being deserves in order to feel valued.

I don't go looking for bread at the hardware store. A 12-step recovery program taught me that. So I don't expect the gratitude and show of affection from my father or anyone else for that matter when I am of service to them. I also have learned, thanks to therapy from 2015-2019 that I can, should and DO acknowledge when there isn't that gratitude of show of affection. Yesterday as I piled more dirty laundry into my car, I said with contempt and sarcasm, “Thank you Andi for taking care of me. I really appreciate it. I appreciate you bringing me food.” That was my way of acknowledging what my dad should have said to me. (Is it a choice he makes to be an ass? I don’t know.)

My brother thinks I was exempt from our dad’s verbal and/or physical abuse. I was not. My brother was called stupid. I was called fat and ugly.

There are times I wonder if I should not care about my dad at all.

The other day I was on my way to his house, giving up the time of my day to, one-more-time, take care of him. He needed to sign some papers so he can get his co-pays removed. He screamed at me and I finally lost it. Here I go out of my way to help him. And I get yelled at. I had to hang up quickly because a recruiter was calling (and of course, I need a job!!) and I said, “I have to go! I’ll call you back. It’s a job.” But of course, my dad needs me to talk slowly and clearly. He needs me to repeat myself several times. I didn't have the time. I had to take this other call. I said I would call him back and I had to hang up. After the recruiter called, he called back and screamed at me at the top of his (very powerful raging lungs) “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!!!!!!!!” I lost it and I screamed back in the exact same way, “I SAID I'M COMING OVER SO YOU CAN SIGN PAPERS TO GET THE CO-PAYS REMOVED!!!!”


He hung up on me. Surprisingly, I was not hysterical or in tears or even upset. I was relieved I didn't have to repeat myself.

Then I started thinking. The day before was his birthday. Did anyone call him? My brother? My sister? My other sister? In fact, has anyone called me to see if he’s ok? Does anyone call to see how he’s getting food during this pandemic?

I tried to remain calm but when I arrived at my ex's house to pick up my son, I called my dad back. He answered and I said calmly, "You have to stop yelling at me like that. I'm trying to help you."

OK he said and hung up.


Now my blood was boiling.

I called back and he didn't answer. I called and called because by now I was pissed and going to let him have it. I was going to cross the line. And I did. He answered.

"Did Jim call you for your birthday yesterday?"


Did Teri?


Did Marian.


That's  because no one gives a shit about you except for me, you piece of shit.

I ran out of breath and could not say anymore.

I hung up.

Trying not to cry...

I looked up and my son's stepmom was nearby my car door.

She had a flower from her daughter to me. She said some things, I don't know what, but the small act of kindness made me cry and I could not stop. She asked what was wrong, did I need a hug and I couldn't speak, just shook my head no. It was so kind, her daughter adores me (I think).

She ran and got Oliver before he could come into the car so I could compose myself. I wiped up the tears, put on my sunglasses, and about 3 minutes later he came out. And off we went. To my house.

Obviously, I did not go to my dad's to have him sign the paperwork. Pay the damn co-pays I mumbled to myself at one point.

There's only so much I can take. It’s constant, him being angry and unhappy and upset. And taking it out on me. Me who is taking time away from doing work that will save me and Oliver. Me who now risks having COVID-19 because I shop for him, which by the way, I've noticed he shops himself anyway. So what's the point. I put myself at risk. He put me at risk. He’s put himself at risk. Do I just give up? Who else will take care of him?

I'm conflicted because ...

There is another side to him though. One that is caring and loving. One that is incredibly generous. I saw him interact with my son. It used to make my heart soar.


I think a part of me right now is missing my son's father. In a weird kind of stupid way. I don't long for him to be back in my life and I know he is happier than he ever was with me. I know he has a good wife and realistically I could never reconcile with him. EVER.

But man do I miss my old life and wonder what it would be like today if we had reconciled back then BEFORE all this other shit happened. Would we be living in Bay View? Oak Creek? Would I have learned to appreciate him? God, life was WAY easier when I was married. OMG. So much easier.

So, that's just where I'm at today.


I'm in tears this morning. I just can't seem to get this clamp around my heart to release. Oliver is sleeping and I am tweeting on my narcissist free twitter account trying to make myself feel better. Helping myself in this way helps others. Every one of those women and men who write to me for advice or who send gratitude my way for my Instagram posts or tweets has no idea that I do this for me, not for them.


Best go wipe my tears now before my son wakes up. It’s 10 am and he’s bound to be bouncing into the world with more energy than I have right now.

I think today is a good day for a Xanax.