Are you my daddy?

It's so easy to feel so ridiculous. So childish. To go from feeling completely controlled for over a year, even when you were falling apart, to completely ridiculous.

Addiction is about wanting to lose control. To be swept away. That's why AA is focused on teaching people how to control their lives. Until you learn that, you'll always be chasing some impossible high. People don't want to learn that shit. They want the "swept away" to last forever. Why doesn't life work that fucking way. What a gip.

My addiction.

For me it's "Are you my daddy?"

I need to feel worthy. I need my dad to walk into my house and to see my art and to read my writings, to let me put on Bon Iver on my Klispch speakers (did you notice daddy I bought your favorite speakers?) and to say, "Damn Jen. You have it going on. You GOT IT. You are worthy."

I'm constantly looking for my fucking daddy. When will it end. When will it fucking end.

Instead I want to forget. I want the object of my transference to walk into my room with burning fucking eyes and to put out his strong, brown, middle-aged finger and swirl it around my eyelid. I want him to ask me, "Is this what you need?" and run his rough hands from my shoulders to down my arms, and hold my hands. And then I realize that's not what I want at all. Now he's holding my hands. Now he's asking me if this is what I need. Yes, yes it is. No, no it isn't. I need to be swept away, right? No, no I need my fucking dead dad to hold my hands and ask me what I need. Are you my father? Are you my fucking father??? Please be my father, if only for a few minutes..goddamn, can't you give me that?

I feel so ridiculous.

God damn Bukowski.

God damn Larry Schor.

God damn transference.

God damn dead daddy.