forgive my father

Firstly Sorry for the rant but I just dont know what to do – this is the first time I have ever wanted to do something about it in the past I was happy to leave it but I have realised how my life is now affected by my fathers behaviour and I want to change!

My parents divorced when I was 7, I totally understand why as they were very different people. It was a joint custody agreement but my father never utilised the opportunity he had to stay part of our lives. He remarried quickly to a lady with major issues – she has never accepted us and has always been jealous, even when we were kids of 8 and 6! When he met her he changed completely; he suddenly became ill with a bad back that 20 years later he still has, stopped work and has many phantom allergies.I think she is the main reason as to why everytime he moves it is futher and further away – with each move the calls became infrequent. He originally lived in the next town but now lives 1000 miles away!

Over the years he has consistently let me and his family down, I stuck up for him for years until suddenly he turned on me accusing me of ludicrous things – despite my efforts to tell him otherwise he did not listen or believe me. Since then we talk about every two months but never talks about his life (at one point I was forbidden to ask how he was!!). I think he himself has psychological problems that he wont deal with.

I know it cant stay as it is – it is pointless to remain in contact if it will be in such a ficle manner but how do I go about it?

I’m not 100% on that, though. Its definitely something I want to do. But wanting it and actually doing it are two very different things. I just can’t get past this anger.

Common sense dictates that I should sit down and explain it all to him. Reality is, I avoid all communication like the plague. Rather, I prefer to rant anonymously online, curse him behind his back, scream my guts out in the car where no one will hear me….. you know, all the usual psychotic dysfunctional behaviours. Which just serve to make me even angrier with him, because it’s his fault that I can’t communicate with him, right? I have no part of that problem. Nope, not little ol’ me.

This is the part I hate the most. Knowing I have to find a way to forgive all the wrongs I feel he has done, but still being SO hurt by them, I can’t see straight.

Is a one step at a time thing. When will I be ready to make that first step? What does taking the step mean. For that matter what does letting go of all the anger mean. Arg!

I went home on November 1st to pack up my room so he would be free to do what he wanted with the house, and he was such a jerk to me. He barely said hi, stayed with Grandpa to ‘supervise’ my actions the entire time I was in the house (like he didnt event trust me), came up to ask me to ‘hurry up and leave’ at least three times (because he had better things to be doing with his time), and refused to let mom take John’s TV to the apartment when we tried to bring it there. He was cold, formal, and only talked to me about how much the house needs to be redone and his upcoming shows with Franklin Footlights. I was told that he was in the next room one of the times that I broke down sobbing in my friend’s arms. I wonder what was going through his head. I wish that he would have shown me that he cared.

Well..I came home for the summer, and once again my dad had a talk with me about my weight. He always has something to say…and it must be a serious talk. He breaks me down and I end up sobbing because it is difficult to hear, especially when he insists that I grow up and become my own person, all the while he is still treating me like a child by saying things about my own body. I’m almost 21 years old and it’s nothing new that I’m overweight.

But this summer was a little different. We had the ‘serious talk’ and then he was like ‘well, my point isn’t to make you cry so let’s just end this conversation.’ ‘Okay’ I said. and then he said ‘alright, I have something else I want to ask you (pause, as he looks for an okay from my face full of tears that it’s okay for him to ask me)(And then it happened) Are you gay?’ And I quickly answered with a sharp ‘no!’ And a look of disgust on my face. I am no gay…and I’m not a homophobic person. I have alot of gay friends, which is actually one of the reasons to how he came to conclusion that I am gay.

He said that because I have about three (guy) gay friends all of whom I am very close with, and he has met. Also I went to visit him on Father’s Day (mainly because I had on Mother’s Day and I didn’t want him to feel as if I’m oppose to making things work with him or that I love him any less or respect him any less….that was the point of visiting…) and it happened to be the same day as Pride Day which I attended with my (gay) friend Seth because he wanted to go, but didn’t have anyone else to go with. I guess me telling my dad that I went to pride day, was supposed to be a subtle way of me telling him that I was gay…according to him.

I just HATE him for this. I can’t help but feel anger and sadness anytime I have to be around him.

Well, I do love him. I love him because he’s my dad. And because for years of my life I had his support and love. Now it’s hard to tell when he gives either, but I’m sure it’s there. I think I have a lot of personal crap of my own and don’t know where to place the blame. So I blame him. He’s the one who has told me time and time again that I’m overweight, and that I need to lose it. I know he’s right, but it’s hard to hear from him, because he’s been sort of distant the past few years. He doesn’t seem to ever talk to me about anything else that’s real except for this. It sucks. I don’t know how to be closer to him. I always feel that I have to prove myself to him and maybe that’s my own fault, but I’d like to know that it’s a two way street. I just don’t know how to begin solving it. I can’t stand being around him because I just assume he’s looking at how fat I am, and that I’m not what he wants in a daughter.

I’ve realized why I resent my dad so much today. I disagree with his belief system and refuse to accept him/ be kind to him because I feel fearful that if ‘I am nice to him’ it means that I accept his ideology on life.

This is BULLCRAP and I realized this today. Who cares what type of values my father has? Am I closing up towards him because I feel insecure and threatened? Do I fear that by agreeing with him I automatically will become him? No WAY – this has been an illusion. I tied accepting my father to my own ego and allowed ‘being nice to him’ hurt me.

Why should I feel ‘hurt’ by being nice to another human being? Why should I keep all this anger inside – which hurts me more? Why should my father take up so much of my thought? Who am I to judge his value/ belief systems when mine aren’t perfect?

All I did by hating him was began to hate myself and developed low self esteem and a ‘fun’ eating disorder for 5 years.

I LET GO . TODAY

My dad and i get along great. we see eachother everyday just about ..talk and we never fight. my did did somethings in the past though that i feel haunt me now and will continue to haunt my future..he apoligized and i do feel as if he is truely sorry..but, he doesnt know that i still think about it now and it still brings me down…how do i even begin to talk about something no1 even wants to think about with him

I have no idea how to begin this letter. Even the salutation alone has cost me many minutes of strenuous thought. How do I start…”Dad, Dear Dad, Father, Mr. Williams, Sir, Mr. Calvin M. Williams, Calvin, Cal, followed by what? A colon, comma, an ellipsis?

I feel like I’m writing to a stranger…stranger to stranger. Like one of those assignments you get in 2nd grade where you write a letter describing yourself, your likes/dislikes, little description of yourself… seal the envelope, attach it to a balloon – color of your choice… then just let it go.. fly away.. desperately hoping, wishing, dreaming that it’ll reach someone interested enough to respond. But this time, when I let this go, seal the envelope, when I watch it go up into the sky until it practically disappears… disappears enough where it’s immersed into the clouds and my eyes are sore, so sore from tracing the balloon and staring into the glare of the sun until I have to turn away then look again and it’s gone… I know exactly where it’s going to end up. And I don’t want a response.

Can’t say you haven’t made me stronger by staying away… I know now what not to look for.

at least, find a trash can for my hate.