The only good thing my father has ever done
was teach me how not to raise my children.
was teach me how not to raise my children.
He gives and gives materially, but in return, he kills you emotionally and mentally. He is as nice as can be to complete strangers, but treats his loved ones like a burden. He treats us like we are cancer.
When I was young and we would argue, he would stoop to my level. I remember calling him stupid as a child and he turned around and told me that I was stupid. He refused to apologize to me until my mom intervened. I remember the tone in his voice. The exact canter of his words as I begrudgingly sat on his lap, crying into a hand towel from the bathroom.
"I’m sorry, babe."
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it - I didn’t believe him. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me - I never believed him. I knew he was just going to turn around and do it again. And he did. Again and again. He’d stoop to “my level” and hit below the belt.
My dad is a victim of himself and a victim of circumstance. One of sixteen children, bad parenting and PTSD from Vietnam. I have nothing but respect for him and his war accomplishments. For his wartime sacrifices. He lost his leg for this country and I can’t imagine what he went through. His sacrifice went un-thanked for decades.
But he took out his own insecurities and traumas on his wife and both his daughters. For a while, he would binge drink and hit my mother when he thought my sister and I were asleep. I was never asleep. I always listened. I was nosy. I hated him. I loathed that man, but I loved him too. I could never understand why he would do these things. My aunt had to rescue my mother and I once. And that is absolutely unforgivable. He got help, he got sober. He apologized and hasn’t binged since. I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven him. I don’t think I ever will.
I love him, I always will. He is my father. He stayed around. He was there. Every once and a while, he was actually pleasant to be around. But I think he’s a horrible person.
The other day, my mother and I asked if he was willing to help us move a couch. I’m moving out soon and don’t have and furniture yet, one of my fiancé’s neighbors gave us their old sleeper sofa. He looked at us incredulously and asked “where the fuck” my fiancé’s father was and why HE couldn’t do it. He went on a tirade of how lazy my fiancé’s father was - mind you, my fiancé’s father does insulation work. He crawls around in attics, crawl spaces and is unable to retire for many more years. He works from 7-5 every day. My father’s typical day consists of getting up, yelling at our dogs, eating, watching tv for a few hours, taking a nap, yelling at my mother, taking a nap, eating the dinner she made while watching more tv, and then going to bed.
On the way to my fiancé’s neighbor’s house, he complained about the most trivial of things. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, by the way, so I’m already done with 99% of his bullshit. He tried to pick a fight with my mother and I lost it. After years of hearing his bullshit, I finally completely lost it. I told him off and it felt beautiful. And he reacted exactly like he did when I was young. He turned around and fought back like a five year old. I walked away. I told him I couldn’t wait to leave him and his house. I glared daggers through him as I unflinchingly called him a childish asshole. I told him i hated him. I finally told him that he was the problem. He always was and he always will be. I yelled at him to get help. I may have been crying, but I never felt more liberated in my entire life.
He hasn’t spoken to me since then. This happened on Wednesday. It’s Saturday. I walk into a room, he leaves the room. I came downstairs at 11am yesterday. He went upstairs to take a nap. He’s actively avoided me and you know what? I hope he continues to. I don’t need his bullshit stress in my life.
I’m about to go into labor at any time and you know what? He’ll drive my mother to the hospital and sit in the lobby. That’s completely fine with me.
I don’t want to see him until he’s prepared to be an adult. Until he’s prepared to evaluate himself and change. Until he gets help and stops treating his loved ones like a cancerous plague he’s battling.
If my mom is the reason I can’t transfer my old phone number to my new plan I’m not telling her my new number. >:(
But when I watch Hellsing Ultimate, I want to vomit and look away; I really don’t like it. x_x
Tagged: #hxh 2011