2006-04-19, 11:42 p.m.

depression. i feel the old familiar depression lingering over me. part of me embraces it and uses it to go numb in sadness. the other part of me is sick of the old familiar feelings: wanting to die, feeling hopeless, feeling like there is a cloud constantly hovering over me.
I saw Julio today and he picked up on my mood. He asked if I was grieving something. Immediately, I answered yes. He said what? I said my parents.
They've been on my mind a lot lately. How I want my dad to be something he isn't and how the impact of my mom's insanity never seems to decrease. The more I hang out with my dad the more I find out he isn't the person I want him to be.
Julio and I talked about how my dad said he didn't want to go to my sister's wedding. The more I talk to regular dad's or encounter regular dads - like in family group or my friend's fathers - the more I realize how much my dad mispercieves things. The dad's in family group are sympathetic and caring. They say they hate to see their daughter hurting, wishes there was something they could do, feels like THEY messed up somehow, and tells them to take all the time in the world to get better. My dad isn't like that. Julio thinks I should write down a list of things I can expect to get from my dad and not expect. We talked about how it'd be easier if my parents were dead because that is real clear cut and black and white. With them still being present and me living with them, it creates all these shades of gray that are hard to grasp. He also said there are stages of grief:
And that different aspects of the relationships may fall under different stages. I'm going to work on identifying the stages and aspects.
I didn't talk in group today at all. The first word I said was several hours after I've been there. Rita said, at lunch, "I haven't heard you say one word." I said, "Hi." Today felt like a waste because I came for the end of Rita's group, didn't participate, ate lunch, and left for a job interview. Thursdays are usually good because we have Laura in the morning and Rita in the afternoon.
tired. food journal than bed.