Betrayed

Some people may say I have “daddy issues”. And I don’t mean “Daddy” like I call Master. I mean “daddy” as in my father. Honestly I have never considered myself to have that. My father didn’t want much to do with me when I was young because of how he is. He had no way of “connecting”with me. He was the same way with my brother, who is younger than me. As we both grew up though he found ways of connecting. By older I mean the pre-teen and teen years.

With me it was music, concerts, and riding his motorcycle. With my brother it was wrestling. (Wresting meaning WWE formerly WWF.)

Eventually my brother and our father stopped connecting. My brother pulled away from him. It started when we found out that our father was cheating on our mother and wanted a divorce. It was harder on my brother than it was on me. I didn’t agree with him cheating or how he went about the divorce but I understood that people fall out of love and sometimes divorce is the best option.

I, however, stayed close with our father. Eventually my father turned into my friend. He didn’t interact with me like a father/daughter would. I honestly didn’t see a problem with it. I was grown. I didn’t really need him to act like my father. Or so I thought at the time. Master and him got along really well and again my father acted more like Master’s friend rather than a father-in-law. But again we were grown. What does it matter? I was just glad that they got along really well.

And then…

Then my grandfather was dying. He was dying for over a year. And I’m not being dramatic. He would have died a lot sooner had he not had a pace maker/auto defibrillator “installed” years and years ago. But nope. That fucking thing wouldn’t allow him to go.

Anyway.. my father and his brother (my uncle) felt the need to put him in a nursing home/hospice. My father, who is the eldest, decided that they needed to sell Grandpa’s house and belongings in order to pay for the hospice. It made sense to me at that time. It isn’t cheap and no one in the family had that kind of money.

Long story short, eventually I learned the truth. He wasn’t paying the monthly payment for Grandpa, his own father, to stay in hospice. It got to the point that Grandpa was close to being kicked out. And oddly enough my dad was buying a whole bunch of shit. I didn’t think much of it when it was all happening because my head space was pretty fucked.

After Grandpa died my head space wasn’t that much better. So I was still hanging out with my father. However eventually my head space cleared. It took quite some time. About a year to a year and a half. Then I started to realize some things. And when the fog started to clear I also had to analyze everything I was feeling because I always wonder if I’m being rational. After all, before my medication I thought I was being rational and yet I was all over the place and basically everything but being rational.

Then I realized that yes, I was being rational. If anything I was seeing clearly for the first time. I had never seen my father for who he truly was. I may be grown, but yes, sometimes I needed him to act like a father and he refused. He would pull away. He didn’t know how to connect with me on that level. Thinking of the past made me realize he never knew how to connect with me on that level except for being very controlling. Telling me what I could and couldn’t wear. How I could and couldn’t express myself. He didn’t want me to be me. He wanted me to be him. He wanted me to have long hair because he had long hair. He didn’t want me to dress or wear fucked up make-up like I wanted, even though I wasn’t dressing like a slut, because he didn’t see how I could want to look like that.

I also thought back about how he was after Grandpa died. My brother only wanted two things. Two things that my father also just so happened to want. They weren’t even worth money. But nope. Gods forbid he allowed my brother to have that. He is your son mother fucker. You have so, so much from Grandpa. You have profited beyond believe from Grandpa’s death and yet you can’t allow your son to have two things. I was only allowed to have things that my father didn’t want. Like an end table. That was pretty much what I got. An end table and a few beer steins. Why? Because he wanted the rest.

And now he is broke. My father got about $250,000 from his father’s passing. And that’s what my uncle got too. So all together it was $500,000 total. And my brother and I barely got anything regardless of how Grandpa set it up because my father conveniently “lost” the will. My uncle even told me he caught my dad burning papers.

Within six months my father was basically broke. He did some repairs to his house, which made sense. But the rest? Oh the rest was all spent on dumb shit. He was getting packages every week from eBay. Did I also mention that my dad got Grandpa’s brand new Charger? (A car.) Yeah. And that was before Grandpa even died. My father said that Grandpa signed it over to him. Never mind two days after that you had him legally declared as incompetent.

And he acted like nothing was wrong with what he did/was doing.

I haven’t talked to my father in over a year. I stopped chasing him because I also realized that I was always the one contacting him. Master even agreed with that. So I stopped to see if he would get a hold of me. Nope. Not even for a holiday. So ya know what? FUCK YOU. YOU SELFISH MOTHER FUCKER.

I will NOT be the one to break this silence. Not this time. You want to talk to me? You want to see me? You can do it this time. Then Master and I realized not to long ago that he also “unfriended” both of us on social media but kept my brother as a friend even though my brother wasn’t contacting him either.

This all came to mind this morning because I had a dream last night that my uncle called me saying my father was in the hospital after a car accident. Do you know what I said in that dream? I said that I didn’t care and that my father could die knowing that he never tried with me. To see that he never tried to see what why we had lost touch after so many years of being close. And I hung up the phone.

And then I realize that it would most likely be my actual response. I’ll show up to your funeral and your will signing but I’ll be damned if I am going to let you try and make peace with me because you’re afraid of dying. I’ll see your body and that will be that. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of me running to his side when I know he wouldn’t do it for me.

Hell, my brother was robbed at gun point not that long ago and it was even in the newspaper. My uncle told my father about it. You know what his response was? “Oh.” That’s it. He didn’t contact my brother or anything. That just goes to show you how self involved he really is.

And yes, I feel betrayed by him. I never in my life thought that he would just.. stop trying. But I am coming to realize that he never really tried. If it wasn’t something he was interested (like music) he didn’t care. And if it was serious he didn’t know how to react. And so… yeah. I thought we were close. Apparently not.

No Due Date