I'm Selfish

Warning...this is a "poor me" post. It’s my problem. I am so tired of feeling like no matter what I do; it’s not great or even good. Dave Gamble was a very important part of my life. When I was growing up, there were so many issues with my home life, and Barbara & Dave were always there for me (my parent’s best friends). I remember poker nights when my parents and Barb & Dave would get together. Dave would do the greatest tricks like blow smoke out of his nose like a dragon (yes from his sickerette) or make his thumb disappear. They accepted me for who I was. They loved me and made me feel loved. I absolutely craved time with them growing up.

Dave passed away today. When I heard the news, I immediately decided I was not going to the funeral. I knew (in my own selfish way) that I would be with the very people I grew up with in my life …. These people knew how things were in my home. But, the entire family was going, so of course I had to go. I immediately shifted into obsession with trying to impress those that would be there. I was going to look my best, and show these people that I indeed grew up and became somebody.

To back up a little, I have a younger sister by 3 years. I was the hyper kid, the tom-boy, the clown at school, the leap before you look kid. Les was the clean, quiet, anti-messy, straight “A” kid. While Les was on the honor role, I was being tested for dyslexia. So she ended up doing everything right, I did not. She finished high school, went to college, and got her masters, and so on. I had my daughter at 17, did not finish school and did not have a long list of accomplishments as she did.In fact there’s not much to say about me … except I am a good mom.

Back to the funeral. It was a beautiful service. We go to Barb’s house and reminisce. Les and I are sitting there with Eric’s wife (Dave’s son) and we are playing with her baby. One lady we knew growing up says “Ed and Gayle (my parents) were here last night. Les…they were telling us how you’ve decided to go into residency.”I sat there. I did not even know. I plastered a smile on my face. Wow! So panic is rising slowly but I am still okay. Eric comes in. Yes, your dad told me the great news. You need to tell Dave (Eric’s brother) because he’s looking into this. Then he turns to me and says “Stacy, what have you been up to these days?” Obviously I was not mentioned last night. I tell him I have twins now. He had no idea. I get up to get a coke and wash down the lump in my throat. How could they not have mentioned me at all?Barb and another lady were in the kitchen. “Stacy, you live right down the street from Eric, you should stop in and see them.” Then she begins telling the lady how I have a new house, and how beautiful it is. My father barges into the kitchen and immediately interrupts. “You should see Leslie’s house, (as he whispers the price) and on and on about how big it is, what a deal, what a neighborhood, and I am invisible to everyone but Barb who just smiles and shakes her head at me.At this point, I am desperately choking down the rising sobs of the little girl inside that was once again a failure. I walk out onto the porch. Barb follows. She tells me she knows how they hurt my feelings and he doesn’t mean it. She tries telling me Dad is really proud of me too, he just has a hard time showing it. Barb tells me how much Dave loved me.I am so angry. This is the reason I do so many different things. Surely one of them will be a topic that my parents can brag about. I work my ass off at work and nothing gets said. I work my ass off at home, but what have I accomplished? I joined the Red Cross as a Disaster Volunteer. I play softball, I coach little league, I lift everyone up around me.Why am I here, and what did God intend for me? I have no talents, and my life is very hard. He gave me an alcoholic father and a depressed mother. My father has never said he loved me growing up. No matter what I do, it will NEVER be enough. I look in the mirror and I hate what I see.I know I am the most selfish person in the world. How dare I take a funeral and make it all about me. I wish I knew how to stop the feelings. Why is my skin so thin? Why can I NOT worry about what they think?How do I stop this pain and frustration? I don’t tell a soul to those who know me now. I am a good actress. I play the part but I am tired of the constant fear and sadness deep inside.