Sunday, November 10, 2002

I

As usual at our family parties, my father had to be the one to have his kids beg him to go home because he was drunk. As usual, he didn't come. As usual, I had to beg him. He didn't come when I drank a beer in front of him. I got tired and angry when he started yelling the same thing at me, "Go inside and get your mom." I yelled back, "That's what Christine is doing." But he kept yelling and I called him a "fuckin retard" and proceeded to use even more expletives and let myself feel like kicking the fuck out of him.

No matter how well he provides for us, and no matter how much my mom says that he's a good dad to us; he was the father he was supposed to be last night. My mom said that after I was born he would disappear for hours and not return until noon the next day. Then after she threatened to leave him he got his act together. I have a feeling that he never wanted children. He only wanted my mom and when she got pregnant it was like "Oh well." So when we were born he was only a father out of obligation. I don't think my father loves me. I think I ruined what they had.

My dad never says "I love you" unless you express suicidal tendencies, and I believe that this is only so because he feels that he wouldn't be a good father if he let you die. He never says "Thank you" when you say "God bless you" after he sneezes. He never hugs you unless you're leaving on a plane. He'll never be proud of you unless you're completely perfect. He only likes you for bragging rights in front of his family. My dad gives us what we want so he won't have to hear us whine. He, if drunk, won't go home if you beg him to. He won't drink at a party to drive his parents sober, but he won't do the same for his kids. He'll make the party his priority. He yells if you do something wrong. He yells.

I remember my dad yelling at me when I was a kid. I remember myself saying "I don't know" and him saying, "You don't know anything." I remember my dad calling me stupid. I remember my dad as being mean.

My mom never takes our side. Never. When we get in a fight with our cousins, its our fault. When we get in a fight with our aunts or uncles, its our fault. When we get in a fight with our dad, its our fault. Its just easier to blame your kids, I guess.

I did something horrible just now. It involves those suicidal tendencies, but no breaking of the skin in anyway. And now, my mom is not on my side and my dad won't tell me "I love you" because he doesn't. No one is home but me. Its my choice.

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