Bigger than the Sea: Ending and Beginning

It has been a long time coming.  44 years, in fact.  This end.  I’ve been hemming and hawing for a lifetime.  Afraid of doing what I have sensed so long was the only answer.

What should one do about relationships that harm you?  What should one do when everything is a charade, a game of survival, a false front and just trying to get through the occasional shared meal?

What I wanted was a father who loves me.  Who doesn’t want that, really?  No matter our age, we want our parents to be proud of us, to believe in us, to enjoy our company.  We want family that feels like family.  Blood, thicker than water.  The tie that won’t ever unravel.  The soft blanket of care that warms us.  The smiles and laughter that sustain, build, say “you are important to me,”  “you matter,” “you have worth,” “I am better off because I know you.”

We want easy conversation with people that are a part of our own DNA, reflections of ourselves that help center and guide us.  Familiarity.  Familia.

But sometimes family is just famine.

I gave up, for the most part, dreaming of connection.  I mean, sometimes there’s still a fantasy here and there, like when out of the blue he says, “I’d like to help pay for your wedding.”  Wow!  That sounds so generous, so fatherly!  So….traditional!

But the fantasy fades quickly. I know I can’t take his money, I know that it’s just another charade. A show of power.  A statement about the haves and the have nots.  A bragging right, a means of making himself feel and look better.

When the illusion of love evaporated, like drops of dew on a blade of grass in late morning sun, I found something else to cling to.  At the very least, I thought, one day I will be remunerated for all for all of this sadness.  While money cannot buy happiness, it might, in the end, buy a sense of repayment, a feeling that, though not the prize I’d had in mind, it would at least take me traveling all around the world, buying a beautiful home or two, providing a future without any concerns of the monetary sort.  It would be an unexpected and unnecessary largesse for my partner, “Here, here, take this trust fund and be merry! Get whatever you want.  Do whatever you feel like doing.  Quit your job!  Lounge on remote beaches!  Pursue your art.  Do anything you wish.  Go for it!”

Ah, the consolation prize.  If not love, then money.  At least, there’d be money. A huge amount of it.

But all of this leaves me feeling empty.  It isn’t enough, the promise of payoff.  It includes all the same sad feelings I’ve always had about him and his wife. There is in fact such a thing as dirty money. Can anyone actually ever enjoy dirty money?  Can they?  Could I?

I don’t think so.

And I don’t think I can do this any longer.  Play this game.  Pretend like everything’s okay.  Sign all my letters “Love you lots!” and “Miss you!”  I just don’t think I can carry on like this another fucking day.  I think it’s time to cut the cord.  I think it’s time to seek freedom through separation.  I think it’s time to end so that I may begin.

I hope there is still a chance that I can find a way to love myself, in spite of what he has told me about myself all my life.  I hope that, without this ruse, I can move forward finally, rather than staying stuck in the feelings of inadequacy.  When virtually everything he has ever done has proved to me that he does not know how to love, and even if he did, that it wouldn’t be wasted on the likes of me…. How could I ever feel okay about myself while keeping him in my life?

It’s been toxic for as long as I can remember. I just don’t think I can tolerate it anymore.  I think it’s time to say goodbye to the father I always wanted but could never have.  I think it’s time to say no more to the self-deceiving about (almost) being loved and respected.  It is hard to think of the finality of what I’m talking about, but every single day of my life has carried with it a terrible feeling of falseness.

I have never felt such loneliness as I feel in his presence.  Isn’t it time to let go? Can love begin when the lies end?  Can my life begin at last, when I release this sad imaginary hope for the Something More that never comes?

I’ve got to let this go.  It’s time to say Goodbye. If I am ever to love myself, I have got to rid of the ones who will never really care.  Even if it’s my own father. I’ve got to be clear that there is no amount of money that can make up for a lifetime of sadness.

Did I want more?  Of course.  Is it a lie?  Of course it is. It’s never going to happen.  And he can keep his dirty money to himself, and keep trying to buy his own happiness with it.  I’m worth more than this. My friends are my family.  My friends love and respect me.  My friends believe in me and think I have value.

That is enough.  That is more than enough.

When I was five and stood on the ocean shore with him before he left us for a new and better life, I told him joyfully, “I love you bigger than this whole sea!”  I always did. But one-sided love hurts. It destroys.


It’s time to say Goodbye.



It’s time, finally, to love myself–bigger than the whole sea.





*Photographer unknown.



Into the Wild (Suburbs) — 2







More pics from my SF suburb….

So very close, yet so very far away from the City!

Into the Wild (Suburbs)

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I live a mere 30 minutes outside downtown San Francisco, when in my neighborhood there is so much unexpected wildlife for a suburb.  An eclectic symphony of bird calls wakes me each morning, horses whinny off and on during the afternoon, crickets roar at night fall and coyotes howl at the rising moon.

Last week I was anticipating my cat’s daily desperate request to go into the backyard, when I found him surprisingly frozen at the open door, refusing to move outside.  I’d never seen that before and was confused.  “Come on!  Let’s go!”  I said to him.  But his body remained still, save for his head which turned ever so slightly back toward the safety of the living room.  He was NOT interested in going out, that was clear.

“Ok, then, as you wish!” I said, and made my way alone out to the back with a cup of coffee in hand, closing the door behind me.  As I sat down at the patio table, I noticed something dark move in the backyard, just beyond the pool.  What the??  It was a wild turkey, strutting clear across the yard and then coming straight up to the patio near me.  I couldn’t believe it was in our yard.  I reached for my cell phone to take a photo, at which point he finally noticed me and, in a clumsy flurry, flew off through the trees, hitting countless branches and leaves along his way.

On the road below ours, a neighbor displays this sign on his mailbox:



He isn’t kidding!

I love it here.


French magazine - art & visual culture

Alphabet Soup

Jules Torti Stirs the Pot

Leaf And Twig

Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.

The Flipped Pendulum

How daydreams are true.

What a Shrink Thinks

A psychotherapist's journal

Deborah J. Brasket

Living on the Edge of the Wild

Susi Matters

Moments in time

Simple Pleasures

Visual Poetry, Photography and Quotes

Photo Maestro

Photographs for business and pleasure


True tales of middle-aged dating

Not My Last Words

Lori Lynne Armstrong, Writer

Patrick McCurry

Reflections of a transpersonal psychotherapist

A Canvas Of The Minds

A unique collaboration of different perspectives on mental health and life

My Continuing Journey

a blog about discovering myself

Awkward Laughter

Because most things in life are humorous, even when they shouldn't be

InkBlots and IceBergs

musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry

Danny the Grim

It can't get any worse, it already did.

Prospective Mind

Psychology: Bridging the Gap Between Science and Philosophy


Becky says things about things and other things


Craft tips for writers


musings on depression

A Map of California

Everything that's gold does not glitter


Smart and surprising

Living While Healing

The adventure of learning to fully live while healing from Complex PTSD

Everything Matters

I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV


where mind-brain meets space-place

Printless tread

Reflecting reflections


the lived experience of being dead inside

Not This Song

A storytelling site about dual diagnosis recovery

Loving Psychoanalysis

Exploring the continual becoming of a psychotherapist.

Dean Baker's Poetry and Songs

A Canadian poet, his poetry & other works

Heidekolb's Blog

Musings and Projects of a New York City based Jungian Analyst

Mental Sundries

Explorations in Esoterica, Philosophy, and Depth Psychology


Poems, short stories and random thoughts


Just another site

A Return to Words

For a Lost Language: Poems

Shirah Vollmer MD

The Musings of Dr. Vollmer

cold lambkin

writing and images by Matthew B. Everett

Waking Up

...and right on time.

Dream Dharma ~ ~ ~ ~

Building a Positive Mind with Dream Analysis and Therapy

Tales of a Boundary Ninja

Insights about life and therapy learned along the way