My first painting.

My first painting.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

My Father Gave Me a Name...... Then he Walked Away.

Since I seem to be on this streak of putting myself out there and maybe letting some walls down in the process.  I don't know what the fuck I am doing, I guess I just wanna keep it real and maybe it will give some understanding as to the way I act sometimes.  Or help someone else that may have went through the same thing.   I'm a work in process for sure.

      My Father left our family when I was four years old so I don't really remember it, I just knew he was gone. Fast forward a few years and he remarries a much younger woman and had two other children during this time.  It's really too long of a story for this so I'm giving you the short version.  I have had no real contact with my father since I was six years old, his choice, not mine.  My mother never talked bad about him and always let me make my own decisions about seeing him.  He made them for me, he didn't want to see me.  He had a replacement family and he was/is a good father to them.  I never understood why I wasn't good enough to be his daughter but his other kids were??  It was very confusing growing up.   When they were younger I would visit my grandmother (fathers mom) on the weekends and they would be at her house as well.... I always considered them to be my brother and sister, no half, no labels, just brother and sister, with pride even.  I wiped my brothers ass and took him to the park but most importantly,  I loved him.
 My sister was just a baby, she didn't know anything was off, she knew I was her sister but I just didn't live with them.  She was the cutest little girl with chubby cheeks and a love for Barbie dolls.  We had a lot of fun playing dress up and hide and seek.  I wish I would have gotten to know her better before I pulled my stunt.

My stunt:  When I was 16 I decided I knew everything and I wanted someone to blame, someone to punish, to feel what I felt.  All the years of being poor and barely getting by while watching my father provide for his family and I was in hand me down pants that were still too big.  Seeing my mother suffer and cry, wondering how she was going to feed us.  I couldn't sit back and be fake while I felt like an outcast, so I basically disowned my family (fathers side) and stopped talking to everyone but my grandmother, we moved to a new town so my mom could go to college and I never looked back.   My brother was 10 at the time and my little sister was 5 or 6.  She doesn't remember me being around when she was younger but I sure do. My brother and I were really close, we used to build forts and play with Ninja Turtles and watch the damn Ghost-busters movies he was addicted to.  I thought I was a good sister but I guess I ended up unintentionally punishing him for my father (our father) being a prick. Crazy thing is, he is a good father to them.  It hurts me and makes me wonder why I am not good enough to be his child, what did I ever do?  I was just a little girl who loved her daddy and then he was gone.  I'll probably never be completely over the hurt that was caused but I have learned to accept everything.

Fast forward once again to 2008, my grandmother passed away and my brother promised her that he would find me and make things right.  Well he showed up on my doorstep after not seeing him for 10+ years and we went to lunch and talked and I really hoped to be a part of his family.  Unfortunantly that's exactly what is was..... his family.  I went to his hometown to visit and we attended my grandmothers funeral together.  I went right up to my father and hugged him, I even told him that I forgave him.  I spent some time with him, my step mom, and my brother and sister.  I thought finally I was part of something but it was never my something to be a part of.  My brother and I remained in contact for a year or so with visits and all.  He helped me get some parts for my car, he did brother things, it was nice to have him around.  I always wanted a brother,  so for about 2 years we were family, or so I thought.

I lost my job and was getting unemployment benefits and during a phone conversation we got into an argument about something that I don't even remember now and he basically made me feel like shit for being on government assistance, which led to some harsh words about how I wasn't given everything growing up like he was and he would never understand what's it's like to hurt for money or get evicted because you can't pay your rent.  He had a dad to give him guidance, advice and support.  How dare he judge me, he has no clue!!  Well that was the last time we talked and I have no intentions of ever speaking to him again.  He can never right all the wrongs.  It hurts but I did what is best for everyone.  My sister and brother may not get it now but one day when all the truths come out, they will understand why I did what I did.  If they have any sense, they will thank me for not ruining their fake little world they have created.   I feel so much better now getting that out.... whew, finally.

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