It just occurred to me tonight that I will never be able to do enough to please my father.
I had a really good day and was in a good mood when I met him for dinner.
It was at a really great restaurant that focuses on all different ways of serving mussels, which I love.
Our dinner conversation was really okay for the most part. We were getting along.
We ended up talking a lot about college, and a project that I might (note: may or may not) work on this coming year, in regards to my academic interests and so forth. He really loves this kind of conversation because I was open to discussing the project with him, and he thinks (and is probably correct) that if I do later undertake this project, and if I do it well, then I have a better chance of getting into a top-tier school (which is something he has always wanted me to do).
Anyway, this conversation made him really happy, because the man is obsessed with achievement (that's another story) and would like to have a daughter who continues in his "successful" footsteps.
I felt good talking/thinking about this project, too. (Aside from the huge knot of anxiety that was growing in my stomach while I considered all the work it would entail...)
I was a little mad at him at dinner because as always happens towards the end of our meals, he started getting anxious cause it was late and he wanted to get the check and go home. At this point, he tends to just zone out and seems completely uninterested in me, and he just sits back and looks bored.
When we walked out, I told him that he was all out of his bread that he likes to have for breakfast, so we went to the nearby supermarket. He's a picky dude, and there wasn't any of the stuff he really likes, so I offered to just get some of it for him tomorrow afternoon, but he said it didn't matter. We finally got in a cab and he was obviously tired, so I offered to walk the dog for him. He said yes, that would be nice. (Even though I've walked the dog twice today so it's technically his turn).
When we got home, I was feeding Willy before we went out, when Dad came in and started freaking out because there was no cold water in the fridge. I had taken the large bottle with me this afternoon when I went to the park and forgotten to replace it. He started stomping around the kitchen muttering to me about how it's "not fair" and "why do you always take my water?" and "can't you ever do what I ask you to do?" before he just stomped off to his room.
I broke the fuck down.
I went into my room and hysterically for a few minutes.
It occurred to me that I could try and try and try to do everything I thought would make my Dad happy, but it's never going to be enough. Even if I do get into a top school, and act like the nicest, sweetest most loving daughter and do all the chores I can, there's always going to be something that I just can't do to please him.
In some way, I'm never good enough for him.
I need to figure out how to just be "good enough" for myself, because otherwise, I'm going to be like a hamster in a wheel, running and running and getting nowhere.
When I came back from walking Willy I literally cleaned up the entire kitchen (it's been getting messier and messier these past few days cause my mom is out of town and I've been procrastinating doing them and my Dad couldn't ever possibly be bothered with something as trivial as dishes!)
It just makes me sad that I'm never going to be able to please him.
In a way, though, I'm also glad that I have come to my own realization about this finally, because I think (hopefully!) it will save me a lot of suffering in the future.