Monday, December 26, 2011

Letting go.

This is going to be a little different type of a blog for me. I am by no means "calling anyone out", or slapping anyone in the face by writing this. This is my blog to write what I feel, think and experience. Some of you might be offended by the things that are said in this specific blog may leave now.

 My parents divorced when I was 11 years old. It hurt me, yet I let out a sigh of relief. I could see my mom wasn't happy and it's true what they say "your kids aren't happy unless YOU are happy". My father moved to North Carolina shortly after the divorce. Both my parents remarried and we all continued as two separate families. Sure I visited my father in the summer time for a couple weeks. I missed my mom dearly during those weeks. My brother Robert and I stuck together through those summers. Flying just the two of us across the country, hugging when we missed our mom so much. I believe my brother and I will always have a special bond and this is part of the reason.

 We spoke to our father on holidays and birthdays....but mostly he wasn't involved in my upbringing after the age of 11. My mom remarried as I said, and my "stepdad" became my dad. He raised me. Yelled at me when I deserved it, hugged me when I needed it and let me know that he would always be there for me. He was. :)

 I moved out of my mom and dads house when I was 18 years old. I moved in with my husband Nick who was just my boyfriend at the time. The day I moved out my father spoke to Nick over the phone, and Nick could barely understand a word my father said to him. I was mortified. Nick didn't know my father like I did. He didn't know that I had a time set in my head when I shouldn't speak to my father on the phone because by that time, my father was sure to be drunk. Usually that time was 2pm my time. 5pm NC time. 18 years old, knowing the time that phone calls shouldn't be held to avoid the drunk talk. Sad.

 For the first 2 or 3 year of my relationship with Nick my father called me several time a day, every single day. Most of the time he was drunk. He would tell me the same story each time. As if I never heard it before. As if I was the first person he was telling it to. He'd cry to me about things he regretted, things he wanted and things that he had done. I was 18, 19, 20 years old during these conversations. Dying to get out of these conversations with my father. Why didn't I just hang up? How was I so controlled over a phone by a person that wouldn't know the difference if I was on the other line or not?

 I listened to my fathers stories and drunk conversations hours upon hours, for years. He called me names many times, said disgusting things to me and completely embarrassed me every time we spoke.

 When I had my first daughter Laura at the age of 21, I not only gained a beautiful little girl. I gained courage. I was going to stand up for myself, not allow my father to control me with these conversations.

 I remember when Laura was about 7 months old, I took her to NC to visit my father, stepmom and 2 step brothers. I was there for a week I believe, and every night of my visit my father kept me awake for hours to talk about nothing. He was drunk and needed to talk. So I sat there awake for hours listening.

 A couple months later he called me, drunk as usual and was being extremely hurtful. Called me names. "Ignorant" hurt the most. I hung up on him. I felt like I had taken the upper hand and showed him that I'm not taking his verbal abuse. That only lasted one night. I was back on the phone with him again the next day, and many days and nights after that being controlled by him across the country, through a phone and listening to his disgusting stories, thoughts and ideas. I wonder if anyone knew he was telling me such awful things. I wonder if he even remembers that I BARELY spoke during these phone calls.

 It took a while for me to open up and tell Nick what exactly was being said by my father over these phone calls. Of course Nick was protective and wanted me to stay off the phone. I did too.

 I emailed him a few times throughout the years explaining that I didn't like talking to him when he was drunk and I always got the same "I am sorry" emails in return. I always felt like maybe this time he'd stop calling me drunk. That was never the case. Two things happened in the past few years that shook me, and created anger inside of me.

 One time my father was supposed to come to Arizona where we lived at the time for work. He was excited to see the kids so I invited him to stay at my home for the weekend. Only drinking. He declined my invite because he wanted to spend his time with alcohol instead of with my children. I was devastated.

 The other time, he came to visit again and he invited us to have a BBQ and to swim at the nice hotel that he was staying at. Katie was a baby at the time and we were excited to have a family day of fun! On the way to the hotel I got texts from him that were awful but I could tell they weren't meant for me. I called him and I could hear he was drunk out of his mind, but he played it off as if he was just tired and had just woken up from a nap. He met us out front of the hotel and led us to his room. Saying he couldn't walk a straight line is an understatement. He bounced off of walls, tripping everywhere, all the way to his room. I grabbed Nicks arm and said "we aren't staying, don't get comfortable". My father was setting up dinner.....burgers and hot dogs. He was slicing onions and being as drunk as he was, obviously that wasn't a smart idea. He cut his hand and bled everywhere. I was so emotional and wanted to leave. How could I keep my kids there with him acting the way he was acting? We left shortly after I cleaned up his hand.

 That night I got home and cried for a long time. I woke up the next morning and emailed him. I told him I no longer wanted to be in his life. I couldn't speak to him and if there was an emergency, I only wanted him to email me. I didn't speak to him for a while.

 I told him that if he wanted me in his life, that he had to be sober.

 Since then our relationship has struggled. I know he is in there somewhere......wanting to speak normally to me. But he is too controlled and involved with alcohol.

 I ignore most calls I get from him. I have heard "I've been sober for 55 days" more times than I can count. That hurts me to say that about my own father. He has hurt me so much in the past 8 years that I feel lost and angry a lot of the time.

 I tried to give him another chance recently. I told him that he has missed all of my children's birthdays and that Laura's was up next. He promised to call her. I believed him. The day came and I got a text saying he had no service. Weird lol!! It's a good thing I know my father and didn't tell Laura to expect a call.

 Sure this blog might be sad, or shocking to some. But it's real, and honest and a lot of you don't know any of this.

 I'm angry. I was angry 2 years ago. I was angry last week. I'm angry today. I want that to stop. Sure I have an amazing life that I am HAPPY in, but deep down I am holding onto this anger that stems from one person. How can I let that person into my life after all the hurt? All the confusion and disappointment.

 I've been told not to give up on him. I didn't do that. He did. I will never give up hope that the man who made me will become TRULY sober one day, and care more about himself and his family. I sat for years talking to him. I was the one he called every night. I was the one who thought for so long that I could help him. I am the one who is left angry and sad now.

 I am working on letting go of this anger that I have now. It is hard and I'm at a tough point right now. My kids deserve to have ALL of their mom happy and at peace. I'm not there yet, but I pray that I will be soon. My resolution to myself this year is to work on this anger that I have deep down for my father. Will I speak to him? No. I can't. I'm not sure when I ever will. That's not my fault. I refuse to feel guilty for that.  

 I love him, I always will.....but I cannot let the negativity from him in my life. I think people have a hard time hearing and accepting that from me because he is my father. Maybe now that they read this, they will fully understand how I feel. How I have felt for years. I know this might be hard for some people to believe that I am putting out there, but for me.....this is step one in my resolution to free myself of this anger and sadness. I hope you can all support me on this journey of mine. :)

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