This morning, we’re off bright and early to drive to Dallas.
Let me be real blunt here.
I freaking HATE driving to Dallas. I’m like…89% sure I’m going to crash and die every single time. It isn’t my favorite.
Today, I’ll have 2/3 kids with me. Christian, my 6 year old, has his cardiac “heart failure” appointment. He has 2 cardiologists. One local to us, and an even more specialized one a few hours away. I’ll also have to take the baby. Thankfully, I could convince my parents to watch my 4 year old, because I don’t think he’d enjoy being dragged around for 5 hours of driving and at least 2 hours of appointments. I don’t think the baby will either….but hey. I’ll take what I can get.
And SPEAKING of my parents. We all know by now that Monday night is my therapy night, right?
Well…TONIGHT…guess who’s coming with me?
Go ahead, guess.
Nope, not my husband!
My dad.
We’ve been talking about it in therapy jokingly for years. Because we can be so dysfunctional at times and it just…yeah. It’s rough. He’s my children’s third parent. At least, in his head he is. And I just do not love that.
So…that’s my day today. Leaving at 7am to drive to a 9:45 appointment. By myself. My husband isn’t coming this time, despite me literally begging him to drive us.
Then therapy at 6pm, for 2 hours…with my freaking dad.
We have an extremely tumultuous relationship. And he’s already “warned” me that he “isn’t going to be nice” and “may embarrass me in front of my therapist”. Lol whatever. I’ve literally degraded myself in front of her more than another person ever could.
So let him have at it. Let him tell her EVERYTHING that I do wrong. Because ALL I do is wrong, and I don’t ever do anything good or helpful or productive or loving or…ya know. Anything positive.
(Can you tell I’m not nervous for tonight at all?!?!?)
I’m more worried (not worried exactly, maybe nervous is a better word? Anxious about? Unsure of what will come?) from therapy tonight with my dad, then of my sons EXTREMELY important cardio appointment.
That, right there, says a lot.
Please just hope and pray or whatever it is that you do that I don’t literally kill all of us on the drive there and back today, because I can assure you, it is incredibly anxiety provoking for me.
I’m prepared for the worst case scenario of hearing the words “heart failure” and “medication” and “cardiac MRI”. I’m prepared for that. Honestly, I’m expecting it.
But I’m not prepared for my therapist hating me a little bit more, because my dad has some choice bold words. And maybe she believes him.
And maybe, just maybe, she never sees me the same way ever again.
Out of everything that’s hard about today…that’s the hardest.
My dad has warned (threatened?) me over and over again that he won’t be nice. That he won’t hold back. And I’d expect nothing less from him. He’s got some big opinions and a loud voice. And he isn’t shy to share a single thought in his brain.
I don’t lie to my therapist. I don’t sugar coat or hide or downplay….and I pride myself in being straight up. Even when it’s hard as shit.
So I hope. Even though tomorrow will be fucking BRUTAL for me. That she knows me well enough to know that the shit my dad says, the perspective that he has….well….it isn’t entirely accurate.
Contrary to his belief…I am in fact NOT the literal worst parent in the world. I do love my children. Very much so, in fact. And I don’t just sit around all day doing nothing. TRUST ME, I fucking WISH I did. Do you know how much easier my life would be if I sat around all day doing nothing???!!!???!!!
Anyway, that’s my day. A hard one, and a long one.