Before I drove to work yesterday, I picked up my mail. I had a standard-sized envelope from my father and thought, "Holy Ned, this is it!" I knew I shouldn't open it before work, so I stowed it in the trunk of my car with the other mail and hit the freeway.
Traffic was reasonable, so I had time to spare when I arrived on campus. I thought, "No, I shouldn't read it yet. I have to teach and hold office hours. I don't want any interference." So again I delayed.
Leaving campus late that night, I delayed one more time because I live very far from work and didn't want to drive if I was upset by something my father had said. And once home, I made sure I took care of some teaching business before I allowed myself space to open the damned thing.
Empty. No letter. Sometimes, he sends me checks wrapped in a bit of note paper and folded into a small envelope. This time, he had sent a check wrapped up in a large, thick piece of paper and placed into a standard envelope. I was so let down that I threw it. Being paper, it didn't travel very far, and I felt stupid and grumpy for getting so uptight and going through all of these idiotic steps to be a professional and a safe driver and all of that.
This entire debacle has been going on for two years--or for decades, depending on point of view. I just need the coming-out process to be over. I need to be out to both parents. And I guess I want SOME kind of resolution from him--and maybe even from her--about my fractured childhood and his (and maybe her) role in it. But sheesh, how long is he going to drag this out? Just do it, for crissake. Just tell her and take the fallout--and then write something real to me, as you keep threatening to do. Don't keep stretching it out. I need this mess to be DONE.
I was so uptight while I was on campus that I mentioned the situation to one of my colleagues. He didn't really get it. For him, everything boils down to either I want a relationship with my father/parents, or I don't, and why keep thrashing around about it? I don't know whether he has ever had major issues with either of his parents, but he has never had to deal with the queer/trans element, which looms LARGE and always has in one way or another and which changes everything. I have no control over what my father does, and I wanted control over my own coming-out, but I didn't get to have it, and now it's just dragging on and on. I finally made contact with him in 2013 precisely BECAUSE I didn't know what I wanted from him, so I thought that the only way to find out was to make a move and figure it out as I went along. I really think that a lot of queer people wind up doing that. Not everything is cut and dried. I have about six tons of emotional baggage, it is causing me a lot of stress and grief, and I am still trying to figure it out. Why is that so hard to understand?
I hate to say it, but I'm now thinking, "Thank you for your feeble non-attempt to support me. But it's a trans thing. You wouldn't understand." But my colleague isn't responsible for any of this, so I don't know why I'm mad at him.
I have a therapy appointment in less than an hour. I need it.