Irrational Non-Sequitur

...so here's the irrational non sequitur: my father is to blame for my water heater's recent demise...

...wait, wait...no, no, you say...that isn't right...a non sequitur is, by definition, irrational...so you're use of it basically means "irrational irrationality"...

...exactly...

...such is the wiring in my brain...

...2012 has not been shy...it's announced its presence like an auctioneer at the county fair--the bad news just keeps coming until it's piled up and i'm bidding against myself...

...about ten years ago i finally forced myself to realize the universe and the great karmic equalizer had not been punishing me for the sins of my father...as a child and young adult, it was easy to (ir)rationalize my misfortunes by assuming that the world was punishing me for being a rapist's daughter:

if i scored poorly on a math test = rapist's daughter
if i a boy/young man didn't like me = rapist's daughter
if i couldn't pay my bills = rapist's daughter

...we all need a scapegoat...and mine was perfect--silent, distant, a shadow with a mean disposition...by extension, i too was all of these things...the apple, after all, does not fall far...

...so essentially, i blamed myself for everything that ever went wrong:

my sisters' teen pregnancies = my fault
John Ritter's death = me again
the cat's sudden pneumonia = yep, you guessed it

...i'm not a psychiatrist, so i'm not sure if this made me irrational or narcissistic, but in nearly every aspect of my life I (yep, it's capitalized this time) was the problem because i was damaged goods...

...then someone said something so profound, so simple, that my life changed completely...he told me i wasn't damaged, that my father's crimes were his own...

...so for the last ten years i've been able to believe that the things that happen to me do happen for reasons, but those reasons have nothing to do with my father...

...until 2012...or the end of 2011...october, 2011 to be exact...when i started writing to my father for the first time in 26 years...

...because of those letters i feel the universe and karma knocking, warning me i shouldn't poke the turd...some things, my world says, are better off left alone...so i can't help connect all of the shitty circumstances of the last six months to the turd, to myself...writing to my father has somehow disrupted the kosmos, and i must pay in blood...i deserved everything i'd gotten, i told myself...i deserved more...

...enter the broken water heater...we got home yesterday and were welcomed with a steady stream of hot water spurting from the top of the unit...the one saving grace is the thing is located in the garage, so there was no damage to the house...but this bit of sunshine hardly mitigates the necessity of a new tank, plus proper piping and tubing to bring us up to code (surprise, surprise--we've uncovered many a hidden "not up to code" gems since we bought our place seven years ago)...i have half a mind to send my father a bill for the $1000 it took to get the water running again...

...i have an even more irrational feeling to blame him for his father's death...on the day my grandfather died, my father was in a mississippi hospital undergoing his first, and only, surgery for prostate cancer...my mind immediately thinks the kosmic energy of the universe shifted during those moments, that subconsciously the two men met on another plain, and that my father's being there killed my grandfather...how's that for new age jargon?...

...and the sound you hear is that of a thousand phones bleeping me text messages with numbers for trusted professionals waiting to hear from me...

...seriously, how else can i blame my father for my grandfather's death...work with me people...

...and then, an epiphany and the shit-i'm-a-grown-up moment: there's no one to blame...things just happen, the universe is strange...to place blame, at least in these instances, is to give my father more importance in my life than he deserves...to fall back into the habit of seeing him as the evil genius whose criminal past has thwarted my own existence is not only a delusion of myself as a comic book superhero, but it's also an admittance that i'm still the frightened child i was 26 years ago...i've come too far for that...