My truth. My first monster was my father. Just to state, I was never sexually abused by my father. I am a survivor of severe emotional and mental abuse. The occasions of physical abuse are few but are still present in my memory.
For as long as I can remember, I have had a shitty relationship with my father. I have some “good” memories but they are far removed. My father has been an alcoholic for the entire duration of my life. The rift in our relationship started with my mother’s alleged affair. I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7. My father asked me if my mom had a boyfriend. I don’t even think I had a clue of what a boyfriend was. I don’t remember my exact response. I just remember that whatever I said strained our relationship forever. To this day, he still blames me for not telling him about it. In our last conversation, over 20 years after the initial conversation…months after my mom’s passing, he brought up the anger that he still had towards for me concerning that incident.
I remember the night I ran to my neighbor’s house in the middle of the night. I was in my bedroom and heard loud yelling from our living room. I heard fighting and violence. I put on my shoes and ran out our door through the kitchen. My neighbor opened the door and saw my crying and afraid. She was super kind. She asked me what was going on. I told her that my dad was drunk and was fighting with my mom. She let me wait at her house while she called the police. The police walked me from her house back to my home. In a nutshell, both of my parents denied that anything had happened. My mom and I packed our things and spent the night at my grandmother’s house. We went home the next day. He never forgave me for that.
At almost every single graduation ceremony that I have had, he has found a way to start an arguement with me. He hated that I was not afraid or dependent on him. On the day of my high school graduation, he threatened to not take me to the early admission STEM program at my college. I told him that I would just find another ride there. At my college graduation, he disappeared after the ceremony with no cellphone amongst a sea of people. When I asked him why he had disappeared, he got angry and started yelling.
I made the decision to cut him out of my life after my mother’s passing. He acted an entire ass from the time we found out about her terminal illness through the funeral preparations. I couldn’t take anymore. Prior to her passing, I told my mom that I would be cordial to him. However, I told her that once she transitioned, I would be done with him for good. A few days after her funeral, he spoke ill of my mother. It was unforgivable. This was after he had already insisted on splitting her ashes. I ended the phone call and the relationship with him that night. Several months later, I received a phone call from the hospital telling me that he was trying to give my name as being the person responsible for my mother’s small amount of medical bills. The women on the phone were so kind and apologetic. They told me that legally it was his responsibility and that they would pursue further actions as needed. Mind you, I had already covered the entirety of my mom’s funeral.
He tried to con me into believing that I was not worthy of anything good…That I was inferior and a mistake. That I was unworthy of happiness and love…I make a choice to rebel against this daily.