Thursday, July 14, 2011

"Father of mine, tell me what do you see, when you look back at your wasted life and you don't see me."

Note...this couldn't be more different than the last letter entry.  This is me in the middle of working out a lot of issues.  Writing in my blog is therapeutic, and I have no shame in anyone reading this.  I do not expect comments.  I just want people to know the truth.

Dear Dad,

That seems way too cozy.  Too personal.  After all, it's been 20 years since you died, and I only really ever called you Daddy.  That was too good for you as well.  When did you ever truly act like a daddy?  Up till I was 5?  Gee, thanks.  Way to shape those formative years of my life.

Maybe I should just refer to you as Al.  But Al was a so-called "man" who tortured the women in his immediate life.  As Mom said, "Oh you're such a big man, Al.  Beating up on your disabled wife and little girl...such a man."

When people ask about my biological father, I can casually say "Oh he died of a heart attack at 38.  Oh, don't be sorry!  It was a blessing in disguise."  How can someone just cavalierly talk about their father being a piece of shit?  Well it's easy when that father was you.

I had barely thought about you on your birthday until this year.  June 23.  I'm November 23.  Easy to remember.  You would have been 59 this year.  When you died, you looked like you were that age.  The Philly morgue freezer being broken didn't help matters much.  Closed casket.  Cremation.  Barely any attendance.  People really only showed up for me or to make sure you were actually dead.  Then your "friends" and family completely ditched me.  I've met that side twice, and I can barely remember them.  I barely know my family history.  Your parents were dead by the 70s and your sister never called until you died.  I have an aunt who I wouldn't know if I fell over.  We got a sympathy card from your aunt, titled "Dear M and 'daughter.'"  Isn't it great to feel wanted?  I have been shunned all because you were/are a piece of shit.

So naturally I mourned.  I was 10 years old!  What the hell do you expect.  I knew that it was better that Daddy couldn't terrorize us anymore, but it was still my daddy.  I would get beaten for wanting to play Nintendo, watch a movie, go to the circus...I can't even remember it all anymore.  I just have a few distinct memories of you going into a rage because I did something totally innocent that you didn't like.  I WAS A KID.  A CHILD.  YOUR LITTLE GIRL.  Mom had to keep me so quiet when I was a baby because god forbid I wake you.  I walked on eggshells before I could even walk.

We were barely allowed to see anyone.  We were practically impoverished.  Mom had to sleep on the couch for years while you got the room and bed all to yourself, even if you were working a night shift.  You yelled at and beat on her more than anything.  I saw you try to choke her.  You took me to see your girlfriend and told me to lie to my own mother at freakin' 7.  SHE WAS YOUR WIFE.  DISABLED.  THE MOTHER OF YOUR CHILD.  You told her, "I hate you, but you're a great mother."  So then when you guys were finally separated, you told the green lawyer to draw up papers to steal me from her and declare her incompetent.  Even though she found the papers after you were dead, she still underwent a massive exacerbation with the MS at the sheer thought of that.  Thanks a heap for the parting gift!

And people wonder why I was scared of men for so many years and so shy and uptight.  Surprise!  I ended up making so many bad decisions with men and allowed one person in years ago who was essentially me working out my father issues.  It makes me want to vomit when I think of that.  It took me till I was 27 to find a good man, but guess what buddy, I did it.  And he couldn't be less like you if he tried.  He's everything perfect to me.  He is so disgusted by you that he can't even pass by your picture in an album without wanting to destroy the hell out of it.

So now it was your birthday, and I thought I was over all this.  Well, I'm not.  20 years later and I'm still crying like a traumatized girl on Thursday nights on a sofa.  Yup, traumatized.  I had my mother and my new life to help me transition into the next phase of growing up, but I still never dealt with these feelings.  And you're lucky I'm not putting your full name and picture out in public.  Maybe then someone from your family would randomly google you and finally give me the answers I've been longing for.  But quite frankly, I'd rather put those pieces of my life together myself.

But maybe I'm also upset because I never got to have a childhood with my daddy.  I have a few nice memories, but that's it.  You were a handsome man and you could be funny when you wanted to be.  You were into movies, music, and writing, which are all good qualities I got from you.  Yes, I can actually find a couple!  But I was forced to grow up so fast and be so timid.  Everyone says I was the only person you ever actually loved.  Ok.  I can sorta believe that as I do believe part of this was mental illness and drugs.  But why the hell would you abuse someone you supposedly loved??  I will never understand that.

I can "forgive" what you did to me, but I will never forgive what you did to my mommy.  Never.  You had amazing women willing to love you, and you completely threw it out the window and practically killed yourself while traumatizing and hurting them in the process.  I can thank you for contributing to my conception, but that's about it.

Hope karma's kicking you in the ass.

Your only child,
Chrissi

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