Thursday, March 11, 2010

This mornings drive to the Methadone clinic was somewhat unique. My dad took my to the clinic, we left around 8am, and I brought the new Biography of Kurt Cobain to read. I've read everything about Kurt there is, this particular book is called Kurt Cobain. I read every book on Nirvana also. This biography is almost identical to Heaver than Heaven by Michale Azzard. Some details are diffrent, but not much.

I read all the way from our house to the clinic. I was as far as his childhood, into adolecence. When I went into the clinic, I brought my book, but I found the conversations more interesting. The clinic was packed, no seats. The computers were down, so the nurses had to hand pump out Methadone with a syringe. I got there and the number I picked was 36, and the sign with numbers on it said 5. I knew I was in for a long wait. So I read some more of the bio. Someone got up from their seat, and I jumped at the chance to sit in a chair. While in the chair I put the book down, and listened in while all the patience complained about how long the wait is, and how cramped the waiting area was. The guy I was sitting next to had his son's first evaluation for school, and he really wanted to be there. I offered him my ticket, I had nowhere but home and sleep to go. He refused because he had driven someone there and he would need someone elses ticket to give to guy whom rode with him to the clinic.

I didn't catch the name of the guy I was talking to, though I've seen him every morning for the past 2 years I've been there between my living Hawaii. He was talking and he told me and those around us that he had a son, and had adopted the daughter of his girlfriend, whom he was engaged to. Then he asked me where I'm from, and I told him Oconto Falls, and then he asked is there any places to rent here in my hometown. I said yes, and asked why he would want a one bedroom apartment in Oconto Falls when he has a family. He then told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up. He mentioned that it was four years together, and then a they broke up. I mentioned that both of my serious relationships lasted four years, and ended. Its like four years is the curse of the non soulmates. Perhaps even the soulmates.

Anyway, my number was called, and I went up to the nurses station and got my dose. I said goodbye to they guy I was talking to, and got into the Jeep with my dad. On our way home we stopped on the Indian Reservation to buy three cartons of ciggeretts. While he was in the gas station I read some more. When he got in the car I read more, and half way home I put the book down, and my dad noticed. He asked "why aren't you reading your book". I said,"Its making me depressed". He asked what the book was, and I told him a bio of Kurt Cobain. He said, "Haven't your read every book there is on him and his band, and I said "yes".

My dad proceeded to interigate me about what I knew about Kurt. His birthday, his parents names, his daughters age and name, why he supposably killed himself. I answered all the questions, and on the last one I said he was sad, and Courtney had an intervention for him where everyone told him if he didn't stop using Heroin he would loose everything, and then Courtney told Kurt that he had dropped Frances on her head a few days before while he was high. I went to explain how he went to rehab, but jumped over the wall, even though he could have left throught the front doors. My dad said, " I wonder why he did it", and I told him he had a family history of suicide.

When I said that, for whatever reason I teared up. I tried to hide it from my dad by rubbing my eyes as if they itched, but he noticed, and asked why I was crying. I was so embarrased. What the fuck! Why am I crying after saying he had a family history of suicide. Then I realized, I too have a family history of suicide, and I agonize over weather to kill myself every night. I don't tell anyone except for this blog about my suicide idations. Sometimes I will tell my mom how I want my possesions dispersssed after I am dead.

It was then I realized I wasn't crying because Kurt shot himself. He was a great musican, and an interesting man, but he wan't the reason I couldn't stop the tears from dripping. I was mad at myself for saying their family had a history of suicide, because he knows we also have a very song history of suicide in our family. In essence I told my dad that I was suicidal, and want to die. I hurt him. He tried everything in the book to get me to stop crying. Changing the subject, not looking at me to so as not see the hurt in my eyes.

I denied that I was crying, and my dad said yes you are. Even though he knew I still denied it. I hate to make my dad feel helpless. To feel like there is nothing he can do to make me feel better. Even though he knows that when my sister died the only way to numbe the pain, to keep himself from offing himself was to take extra oxycontin. In his mind he knew the only thing that would make me feel better in the momment, but he knew, and knows that I can't use/ Not even once.

Are there other people out ther whos only friends are nobody not even themselves?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dont feel bad anna
I also have issues and the only ones I can count on are my parents, and I'm always feeling guilty if I treat them bad and I feel bad if I treat them really good cause I feel weird, If you could socialize with other people I guess you wouldnt be so pendent on your parents do or donts.
I really wish you all the best for you and your parents.
Someday things will find their way, they got to.
GOOD LUCK ANNA!

Barbara said...

You are a sensitive daughter to care so much about hurting your dad...but your words aren't what hurt, its the realities of life that hurt. You just reminded him like the book reminded you. There will never be a day when there is no pain at all, but there will be good days. I was fantasizing about suicide again last week and today, I actually feel kind of happy. Just keep going, keep doing your life. Keep writing. Keep being you. I am sorry you feel so alone, but you aren't really. Just for now maybe, but not forever.