MrJoker said:

Richie...you are truly a butterfly...

I love you.

MrJoker said:

co-sign. The older I get, the more people I meet, the more I realize how truly fortunate I am for being raised in such a loving, supportive, safe household. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

Thank you SupaFunkyOrgangrinderSexy for sharing this story. What you said gives me a lot of hope of things to come for me. thank you again

Supa,

I really admire your courage in telling such personal details of your life in hopes that it helps someone else. That's really what it comes down when you can turn a negative in your life into a positive for someone else-for anything you've survived.

I was too young to really do anything (now I wish I was old enough to have been able to) but my aunt was in that type of situation when I was little, her first marriage evidently. The guy was scum who has since turned to a born-again Christian-they aren't in contact anymroe thankfully.

I was maybe 9 or 10 when it all was evidently happening, but now I'm just glad she's happy and has a life going where there's nothing remotely like that going on. If I had known at that age, I doubt I could've done anything, but she's always been strong, independent and I admire her for that.

When I found out about what happened back then, I only appreciated her more.

Hope things continue to smile on you Supa.

Thanks for sharing this.

I have just come out of an 8 year relationship which has ended with me suffering from depression and being prescribed prozac. The relationship was rarely violent but because of my ex boyfriends jealousy and insecurity he totally messed with my mind. But i didn't know it at the time.

The thing that struck me about your story was when you said about being comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. That is so true...sometimes it is just easier to stay with what you know. The unknown can be a terrifying thing. I could never imagine my life without him.

Now for the first time i can imagine it. I think the prozac is helping me but i don't intend to be on it for too long. It has cleared my head and is helping me 'focus' on a future without my ex..it is helping me move on.

In fact i'm quite excited about the future so it's all good at the moment.

xxxx

Supa, thank you for opening your heart and sharing this.

It is truly a moving story and my thoughts and prayers go out to you...

Diva said:

Wonderful to know that your dad succeeded in being a better dad, its hard not to go over to the other side and do everything wrong again. That's what happened to my dad (he tried to do the exact opposite of his upbringing) and I have to suffer the consequences of that.

Do tell your father how much I admire him for that

Supa, thank you for the kind words.

Sag, you too

Oh Supa... Thank you for sharing your story.
Teacher, you too.
I admire the strength in both of you for sharing. I don't have the time nor inlclination to share my own at the time, but suffice to say it sounds a bit like Teacher's. Although it was only my father who was alcoholic, and I didn't get out till I was 18. But I did have that separation in mind, so to speak, in that from about 14 on I had lost all respect for both of my parents (lost it for my mom for not leaving him or doing something about it) and decided my life was no longer any of their business to the point I wouldn't even show them my report cards. Even though I was basically a straight A student.

It's sad that in this day and age I know more people who grew up through such pain and misery than those who had relatively "healthy" parents.

SupaFunkyOrgangrinderSexy said:

You are so right, but what if that person is your dad, that changes the whole situation and makes it 10 times more difficult, a child doesn't leave it's parents, it doesn't even realise it's being manipulated.
I do now, and I left (shut him out) but he's still a good grandfather and a good husband to my mother. It's all very twisted and double, I do know I'm holding on to a father I never had, and he will never be the father I need him to be, but I can't seem to cut the relation. He has been also very good in other ways. He tought me to be a reble and to love nature. To question stuff and to learn everything I can about everything that intrest me.
Without him I wouldn't be who I am.
I love and hate him for that (does that make sence to people who didn't go through everything I went through??)

[Edited 9/11/04 9:01am]

polkadotsuit said:

I'm so thrilled to hear this

The psychological and emotional aspects of abuse are definitely worse than the physical pain. Bruises, red marks and welts go away. But when the spirit is torn, it takes much more to heal. I truly think of it as someone enslaving your mind and heart with invisible chains. You don't even see that they are there and when you do, it feels like the impossible to break free from them.

I do know what it feels like to have absolutely no hope. My ex took me to places so desperately dark and desolate. It felt like I was forever lost. I thank God that I found that slice of hope and thank God for giving me the strength to hold onto it long enough to get out. When you are at the bottom of a bottomless pit and falling fast, it really does seem like there is no way you can get out. But there is.

Thank you to everyone who has shared their stories. I do understand anyone who is not willing or able to share and think you should only do so when you are truly ready. To all my friends in this thread, I love you so very much. I appreciate your friendship like you would not believe. I am largely over the trauma of this experience, but I will never forget.

This thread is not really about my healing, I've done much of that already. This thread is about throwing that lifeline out to someone out there who is willing to reach out and grab it. It's sad to say that many people will be lost in these situations, some even paying the ultimate price of death. Please never give up hope. It's your greatest strength. Let these stories serve as beacons and proof that you can take control of your life. You can leave. You can.

This thread is dedicated to all the men and women out there who have yet to discover their strength. This thread is dedicated to those who have made it out alive. This thread is also dedicated to all those men and women out there that work with people in this area. Those who help to save people from their hell. Thank you so much for the work you do.

.
[Edited 9/11/04 14:45pm]

Whateva said:

This part is probably the hardest. You are connected to your parents by the most intimate of connections. You are the fruit of their loin. You are their creation. Eva I'm so sorry that you have had to experience the tragedy of not having your parent the way you need them. So many people out there don't. I know it doesn't make it easier to accept but the sad fact is that many people cannot depend on their own parents and it's the saddest thing. I think you made a wise choice to distance yourself. You don't owe your father a thing. You owe yourself the space and time to heal. I believe you can come to a place where you can manage the feelings of the horror you experienced instead of letting them manage you. I truly stand with you with all my heart. Anytime you need to talk, I'm here
[Edited 9/11/04 14:47pm]

I'm sorry you had to live with shit like this, Supa. It's not something anyone should have to go through.

Teacher is an incredibly strong,cencere,inteligent,brave & sweet lady.
An angel with scars healing.
Thanks 4 your story and also Supa who is a brave person as well.
Much respect 2 all people out there with strenght 2 breake the chain of a vicious circle
& turn their life into a more positive direction.
/peace Manki

Supa, you are such an amazing person! Thank you for sharing your story, it really makes who you are even more beautiful.

SupaFunkyOrgangrinderSexy said:

Thank U hun, I know I'm nearly there And don't worry, I'm already past the part where I consider my fathers feelings. I don't care. But I do care about my children. The part I can't seem to deal with is my mother (she didn't know, but wasn't there for my either) I love her, not as my mother, but as someone I had to take (emotionally) care of and protect against my father (I thought if she found out it would destroy her, with that all my chances of having a real mother would be gone).
How can one cope with loosing something that was never there in the first place?? I just don't know.
But I know I'm no longer a victim and I don't need to be one to survive, I feel I need one more step to be free. I hope time gives me courage to do so.

spelling edits
[Edited 9/13/04 13:08pm]

Teacher said:

You are so strong to still want to take care of them and also being able to take care of yourself aswell.

Supa, Teacher, Whateva. Polkadotsuit... big hugs to you all. I can relate.

My father was a man with rage unlike no other that I've ever seen before, and he was the most loving, caring, kind, gentle man, as well. I truly believe that not only can you bring yourself to love/attach yourself to people who are abusive in some way, because of what you experienced when in a prior abusive relationship or growing up in one, but I believe the abuser can act out on what they learned from growing up in one themselves. My dad's dad abused my dad's mother... she was beaten with a stick for helping my mom and I get away from my dad once, my dad's dad (he was never a grandfather to me... he looked evil and was) told her it was none of her business and beat her. We didn't find this out until a month or two before she passed away. But, through therapy, short as my therapy stints lasted, I did learn that the reson I am attracted, or attract men, that are abusive in some way, (never physically... I tend to attract the mentally abusive men), is because of "transference", and until I face certain issues within myself, I will continue to find myself in these types of relationships...

Whateva... I understand completely your comment that you love and hate your dad for creating who you are today. I don't speak to my father anymore, and it's not out of hate for the abuse in the past, but simply for the fact that I no longer know who this man is, and haven't since he and my mom divorced 23 years ago. I can't remember a time hating my dad... but always feelings of "if we make it out of this alive, I want a big hug from him". I was a complete daddy's girl. I've mourned for my dad years ago, went through a stage which felt like he'd died, because, in reality, he did for me. I don't know who the man is that is walking around in my father's body now. It's the other man that I loved and he's long gone. And, I believe, in my quest for searching for a partner, I'm looking to fill that void... I'm looking for my "father". I found him eleven years ago, in my husband. (He was never physically abusive, as my father was). And, that's what I have to stop.

I think it's wonderful that your dad has a good relationship with his grandchildren and that he is good to your mother. My dad doesn't see my children anymore, and it wasn't from lack of trying. Which is sad... but, I really don't care, nor do I think about it much. The most difficult part was explaining to my kids why they weren't seeing him or his wife.

The thing that does make me angry is how things were back in the 70's as compared to now, or maybe it was just because it was a small town. I turn on the television and see an episode of "Cops" or some documentary on domestic violence or abuse and the police are there to help... really, without too many questions asked and the abuser is gone off to jail. During the abusive years of my parents marriage, the police would turn their shoulder, each time my mother would call. Finally, she realized that calling wouldn't do any good. Out of the many, horrible things that this side of my father had done, this was one of the first memories I had of the abuse and realizing the police wouldn't help, and hating them for it.

Thinking my mom had locked the door on him when he came home from hanging out with the guys, and after her not responding because she was in the tub and couldn't hear his rants outside, my father started banging on the house... my mom heard this, saw him going around to where my bedroom window was and knowing he was going to do something, she basically saved my life. My father threw something into the window of my bedroom, saying that maybe hurting me would get her to unlock the door, and just as my mother scooped me up, a shard of glass, from the window, stuck in the mattress where I was laying. My mother rushed us out of there after she saw him come around the garage with an ax, and we fled an hour to my aunt and uncles to hide. My father chopped up everything we owned and placed it in the front lawn, tables, chairs, couches, just... everything, Called everyone he could think of and told them that if they were hiding us out, they better hide us good, because he was going to kill us both if he found us. My mom had called the cops, and they told her it wasn't any of their business. It wasn't until he got out his gun and shot holes in the stop sign at the end of the road that they came and arrested him. Destruction of the county's property. That stop sign is still there, with all of the bullet holes in it. And, my mom never locked the door, he was too drunk and didn't turn the knob right... he thought it was locked.

There were many times that the police wouldn't help, unless he did something to them, or the county's property.

It also makes me angry how people tend to "cover-up" for the abuser. My father's sister lives in the house now, where most of the abuse from my father took place. From the one instance that I shared above, there are ax slices in some of the kitchen cabinets, which were covered up with pretty little praying hand plaques and cute little pictures, nailed to the inside of them. When I told my step-mom of the abuse, when my father and her married, she didn't believe me. I told her to go to my aunt's and look behind the plaque. She saw it, my aunt covered it up with some lame story. Everyone in town (where I grew up and where my dad still lives) knew of the abuse, no one would do/say anything then, and now... he's the "big-shot" in town. My father is very charismatic and a treat to be around... it's only when the rage fills up his eyes that he turns into a monster, yet, everyone has always turned a cheek to that part of him and waited for his other face to show.

To end this... my mom talked to my father a few years back and they were wondering what happend with their marriage. (Once my dad stopped drinking, half-way through their marriage, the abuse stopped). When they divorced, neither one really wanted it, but my mom is stubborn and went full speed ahead with it. During this conversation, she brought up a few instances of abuse. My dad thought she was making it up, until, as she went on, he saw by the expression on her face that it was true. He had no idea of this side of him. He wasn't aware of any of it. During his rage, he would be in a complete black-out. The next day, she wouldn't mention it and he would immediately start drinking and think nothing of the furniture in the lawn (as, at that time he knew), or of the bruises on her body. He drank away what he had done. By the time he sobered up completely, and never drank another drop again, all of those memories had vanished.

To everyone who posted here and to those who haven't but have been victim to abuse, I'm going to use a quote that is simple, yet is truth. That which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. And, everyone here holds that strength in their soul. There really is a purpose behind everything.

Thank you for your story, Heather....You always have such incite and inspiring words.

Glad to see you


Smooches;)

Azure ...For as long as I've known you, I've never heard the details of your experiences growing up...I only knew there was abuse, and that of course it was bad. I'm so glad I got to know you even that much better now.. You, my dear, really are amazing to me...

And as Azure stated, very sincere and heartfelt thank you's to everyone so far who has shared an experience, a story, on this thread... I've read them all, some of which I've known about before to a certain extent (Whateva, you've given your story to me already, thank you......and Julie, should you decide to share..you have always been inspirational to me in seeing/knowing where you are now, compared to where you were then. )...and I simply shake my head with a sigh at the strength that resides within that helps us overcome such circumstances. What a testament to the soul it is, to see that strength on display within a thread like this...Again, thank you Supa, for starting it all with your own personal words.

.
[Edited 9/12/04 9:59am]

MsMisha319 said:

Thank you...

It is good to be seen.

Byron said:

Yeah... crazy isn't it. We've known one another for, what, five or six years and we've never really discussed that too much. That is a big misconception about me, that I talk about my problems on here too often. Sure, I tend to go on and on about other things, within my life, that aren't too "personal" to me... husband, boyfriend, life in general, they affect me, but they aren't deeply devastating to my being, basically just venting, throwing it out there, getting if off my chest, hearing different points of view, gaining advice, etc. I tend to keep the other things quiet... those things that I'd like to really forget. Though, I have posted about this on here before, a couple of times, when the topic came up.

It's funny, though... abuse and the form that does the most harm to a person was the topic that prompted us to start talking all those years ago. Remember? Mental abuse vs. physical abuse. On the old purple and black org...

And, thank you for the hugs. I know I'm not the greatest friend in the world, due to my "down times", difficult to get a hold of, etc... I thank you for sticking in there with me through all of these years, and mostly, for being understanding and knowing that in those times, I simply cannot be around, because I want to just go away and that it's not intentional. In fact, I'd like to give a big hug to Sag, too... and AnotherLover, as well. Their friendship has meant a lot to me, and I miss the hell out of Carrie!

Huge thank yous to everybody relating to our stories here, to the sweet and caring people. Sometimes I don't really think of my childhood as having been that bad, but I just re-read all of our stories on here and I realise that we are all lucky to be alive. Had my sister been born first I'm not at all sure that we would be alive either of us, but somebody somewhere must have been watching our backs.
I believe in destiny or fate, and most of the time I am bitter and cynic enough to also believe that it is "their" intent that I should give up and die. However, when I read all of our stories I wish more than ever to be well again, and work towards helping children who are in similar situations. I WILL BE HEALTHY AGAIN SOME DAY.

My situation updated: Friday I saw my new shrink, I am going to apply for a spot in a group therapy for adult children of abusive homes and upbringings. I really hope I get this spot because it's what I most need to work on, it's what in my nightmares every night. I also see a physical therapist who specialises in psychosomatic problems, and I'm seeing my family doctor Wednesday. I am fortunate to have gotten so much good help, that and what I've shared with you here is what makes me go on. I'll become an auntie in November and that feels exciting as well as a relief because I now don't have to feel the pressure of producing babies

We are all survivors, and I would like to point out again to EVERYBODY here that when it feels rough, I am always here to take part of the burden.My love goes out to the people here that I have leaned on for support - Finess, Redfeathers, JD, TheMadMonkey, Kamille. I love you all.

I had been planning this thread for quite a while and when i saw I was close to the 10,000 post mark I thought no time like the present. I had wished for Anotherlovertoo to contribute to this thread as she and I have had many insightful discussoins about this and other subjects and I know she could bring a much needed perspective on the issue. Carrie, if you're out there, consider coming out of lurk mode. Your contribution, and your presence, is most welcome here

Teacher said:

Teacher, that is so amazing. I don't think my father will ever straighten out. I'm at the point where I'm considering never speaking to him again. I hardly speak to him now as it is... He's an alcoholic and a compulsive gambler. One of my earliest memories is waking up in the middle of the night to yelling, screaming and breaking things. I was probably 6, my little sister was still a todler. We just stayed in the hallway. I just remember a split second of that. My father was always unpredictable, yelling for no reason. At parties, he would always get drunk and end up getting close to a fist fight with one of my uncles, who was drunk as well. The police would come and break it up. I remember being in a bedroom with relatives, trying to calm me down. I would be so nervous that I would tremble uncontrollably. Of course, I would be crying too, because I didn't want anything to happen to my daddy.

One birthday, my dad didn't come home. He had gotten jumped in a park for messing with some cholos. He was drunk, and thought he was a bad ass. They stabbed him several times, in the stomach and in the forehead. My family told me he fell off a brick wall. But little by little I got the gory details. For this reason, I have irrational fears about what might happen when I'm out having a good time. Not always... but it still comes up. I fear something will happen to my mother when I go out of town. Or if I go out without my boyfriend, something will happen to him.

So my father now has diabetes and he favors beer over his medication. His blood sugar is so high he always sounds drunk and can barely walk up the stairs to my apartment. I dont' know how he drives, I think he's practically blind in one eye. When I was about 11, my father and mother were having problems. Well, more like he was the problem and she didn't want to deal with him anymore. She was sleeping with me in the sofabed and he came over to talk to her, thinking I was asleep. She wouldnt' go back to the room with him and he was trying to convince her. They were whispering, but I was awake. He eventually said he was going to get his gun and shoot himself, and that's when I spoke up. "nooooo daddy!"

My father was in Vietnam and he never got any kind of counseling for it. He literally saw people explode right next to him. He drank and gambled to deal with all of that while he was there. He's been drinking and gambling ever since. By the time my mother finally left him, he was 3 months behind on the mortgage. He was gambling all the money away. He was very controlling and never let my mom have a job. She would make dresses for my grandmother and get $15 and save it. Then he would ask her for money to buy the milk. When my parents divorced, I could choose who I lived with. I chose my father. I didnt have a good relationship with my mother at the time and she would say I reminded her of him. I guess we kinda look alike. I didn't know about his money problems. He would buy me whatever I wanted. He would spoil me. I remember being at Target and him buying me lots of coloring books and new crayons... I didn't know he was writing bad checks to get me this stuff.

I spent lots of time listening to my father cry about the divorce. I would try to counsel him. I was 12! I also remember being in a restaurant once and someone "looked at him funny". Eventually we had to leave because he was making a scene. Of course, I get nervous and start to cry and we're in the car. All I remember is him saying "you want to see crazy?" and swerving all over the road. He dropped me off at my uncles house where we all lived with my grandmother and sped off. I was always afraid he wouldn't make it home alive.

So I'm 12 and I learn about him gambling problem like this. One day my family is all concerned, because my father is at some casino in the middle of nowhere and he needs $200. I guess he owed it to the place. It could have been a lie. Anyway no one had the money. Maybe they were tired of giving him money. I was concerned and I had saved some up to buy a keyboard. So I offered it. I can't believe that no-one in my family said "no, don't do that". How rediculous is it for a 12 year old to give her father $200 for his gambling problem?!?! Ever since then it's been an endless cycle. I've loaned him lots of money. He's paid most of it back. But I don't want to play this game anymore. I was always afraid he wouldn't survive if I didn't let him borrow money. I even would take out $300 cash advances for him! He has no credit (I wonder why)... He has told me so many lies and manipulated me so much that it was hard to break the cycle. He still calls me late at night, asking for $100 and he wont stop nagging me for money. He tried to make me feel guilty. "What's the big deal? Why can't you help me out?" All I've ever wanted is for him to take care of himself. He can't even pay his rent on time. He makes $600 a week (after taxes) and only has $600 of bills every month. He gambles all his money every paycheck.

He even asked me for money on Father's Day. When I turned 30 I decided this was going to stop. That was 2 years ago and it hasn't stopped. I have started to cuss him out, telling him how disgusting he is and it doesn't make a difference. This is becoming a long story that I kinda wanted to make short... I will just say that all the stories I've read have a common thread: manipulation. Because my dad had threatened suicide when I was little, I felt I had to help him with money so he would be ok. Now, I've refused to give him money in the past 2 years and guess what? He's still alive and still asking for money! He's the great manipulator. This past Thursday he showed up at my sisters house asking for money. They have less of a relationship than we do. My sister has 3 kids and is on section 8. How the hell is she supposed to have money to give him?!?!? She told him she had to pay her bills and he said "They can't wait?" No dad, then we'll end up fucked up like you. Sheesh!

Anyway, he only calls to ask for money. He's always out doing who knows what. I can never find him when I need him. And when he needs money I can't get away from him. I've begged and pleaded with him to get his life together. I've gotten hsyterical and told him to fuck off and stop asking me for money. He still calls and comes around. His whole life revolves around drinking and gambling. His behavior borders on harrasment. He argues with me, he shows up without calling and most of the time he wont leave until I give him money. I've had enough and I don't want to talk to him anymore. He wont get help. He thinks he can take care of his problems on his own. Ummmm, how long has this gone on? He'll be 57 this year for God's sake!!!

I feel kinda silly posting all of that. Obviously people have been through a lot worse. Still, it angers me that I do not have a father. He's more like the annoying brother or cousin that can't get his life together and expects everyone to help him out.

Anywho, Teacher, your story brought tears to my eyes. I used to be the only one that believed in my father. That's why I loaned him money and spent hours talking with him, trying to help him understand that he needs help. He has way too much pride. I'm pretty sure he has depression and anxiety. He gambles to deal with his problems, which create more problems and it goes on and on. It's a sick cycle that I don't want to be a part of anymore. He never went to the Veterans Administration for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but he might do that soon because he's working on a claim he filed for Agent Orange. His legs are really messed up.

Much love and strength to everyone that posted and those who are dealing with all the issues mentioned.

One of my childhood friends recently revealed to me that her father had basically been raping her and her sister every way possible since she was 4 years old. I told her I feel stupid for complaining about my life and my father... but she said not to. "Pain is pain is pain." We all have our issues to deal with and our demons to fight. Her story breaks my heart, but where she is now inspires me. She is such an amazing person. We email each other a lot now, supporting each other through our ups and downs. That is true family.

That's such a sad story Vina.
a 12 year old having 2 take care of her parent like that.
I guess that leaves deep scars although u have such strenght
coming out of that.
/peace Manki

Vina, thank you for sharing

My father was in Vietnam too and it gave him a whole hell of a lot of psychological problems. One thing I have been able to do as an adult is to understand the complexity of my fathers problems and that has helped in my own healing process and forgiveness towards him. We get along now and we have a good relationship but it still does not erase the fact that he betrayed me most of my life.

It amazes me in many of these stories how the children play the role of the adult and their parents as the children.

AzureStarr said:

God Heather.... I never knew how bad your situation was. Thank you for contributing to this thread. I know it does help people when they realize they are not alone and that their situation has been shared by others I really liked the quote you ended with. It's so true. And I really honestly look at my horror as a trial by fire. I am stronger because of it. You can react one of two ways to it, choose to let it burn you alive, or choose to rise up like a phoenix. The choice is yours

There is a lyric in Pink’s song “Family portrait that kills me…. “I don’t want love to destroy me like it has done my family”. My parents got divorced when I was 4 and at 34 I’m just amazed at the impact it still has on my life. I could think about it and cry to this day. It hurts me to know how much it destroyed my mother and how vulnerable it made my sister and me in our adult lives in our own relationships with men.

There is another line in that song.…… “I don’t want to have to split the holidays, I don’t want 2 addresses, I don’t want a stepbrother anyways and I don’t want my mom to have to change her last name” The first time I heard the way she sang this part I just cried. I still do when I hear it. I realized that she was expressing something that my sister and I always had as a part of our lives. The divide that is created when you have 2 kids and a mother who have the same last name and then the mother gets married and she now has a different last name than you. It seems that you are continually being left behind. Your dad abandons your family, your mom abandons your name.

My mother worked and used her money to support the household. My father took his paychecks and drank and partied them away. My dad was a heavy drinker and a drug user. My father nearly drank himself to death. At one point his liver became swollen and it looked like he was pregnant. The doctor told him that he had 6 months to live if he kept on his current course. He quit drinking and drugs, but only after he had left us and was married to my stepmonster. A purely selfish, greedy bitch. Whose only concern was herself. My father has a huge greedy streak in him. This woman came from a wealthy family. My mother came from a dirt poor family. My mother didn’t have much to offer in the financial realm, she offered her heart and her love

Sylvia plied my father with gifts and money and luxuries, while we struggled at home. My mother would even go hungry sometimes to make sure that the rest of us, including my father ate. My father would expect my mother to cook him dinner and if he felt like it, he’d eat it. Sometimes he would just take the freshly prepared food and dump it in the trash right in front of my mother. That’s not what he wanted to eat. And there were times that she fixed him the last of the food in the house and he still threw it away and she would have to go without unless she wanted to dig through the trash to eat. What a way to love your wife huh?

My father told all kinds of lies about my mother. Mostly to justify his behavior. One time my grandmother came over and banged on the door. My mom opened it and to her amazement my grandmother stormed in and was just yelling at my mother telling her how she wasn’t doing her “wifely” duties and that she should be ashamed making my father go hungry. My father was there and he was like “Ah mom, nevermind. It’s OK. Just forget it”, my grandmother was not having it. My mother said “Alright, why don’t you tell me what I’m going to fix your son to eat.” She took her into the kitchen and opened up all the cabinets and the fridge. All empty because she had no money to buy food. My father was over telling his mom to fix him food because my mother refused to feed him. My mother told my grandmother “What do you expect me to cook him? We have no food”. She explained that she had no money for food after paying the mortgage and the bills. That my dad partied away his paychecks instead of buying food for the family. My grandmother went off on my dad, but not hard enough to help him to change. In the Mexican culture men get away with murder because the women are conditioned to accept all their bullshit. At least this is what I’ve seen in my life.

Before my dad left us for that witch, her parents told her to stop pursuing a married man. When my father left us her parents told her that they would disown her if she married my father. They told her to back off because he was married with children. But she had to have my dad. How sad this is. My dad was off with that woman and mother tracked him down and told him to just come home. That they could work things out. My dad said he would come back. On Tuesday my mother found my dad at his softball game. My sister and I both had colds but she bundled us up to go see him anyway. She was there. My dad came over and told my mom that she should go home because he didn’t want us getting sicker. My mom asked him what that woman was doing there, he had promised that he was going to dump her. My dad told my mom not to worry that he was going to break it off that night. That was Tuesday, on Thursday my mom received divorce papers. My mother begged and pleaded asking him why he was doing this. He said that he would have to eat crow and eat his pride by admitting that all the things he was telling people were not true. What a coward. They got married and what a burn on my dad, her parents did disown her so they had to struggle instead of live the good life like he thought they were going to do.

I remember when my dad would come pick us up for weekend visits. My mother would give us our bag of clothes in her bedroom so she wouldn’t have to see my dad. My mother would always be crying as she hugged us and I thought at the time she was crying because she was going to miss my sister and me and that she was going to be scared because she would be alone. I remember hugging her and telling her not to be scared because our dog would be there with her. For the rest of my life I will remember those sobs. How sad they were.

My dad came to get us intil I turned 12. That is when my mother remarried. As soon as she signed the marriage certificate, my father stopped coming around. He just stopped cold. We didn’t have his phone number and nobody on my dad’s side had it either or they were afraid to give it for fear of having to deal with that witch. I remember going to my granmda’s for Thanksgiving and Christmas year after year just hoping and waiting for my dad to show up. He never did.

When I was 16 I asked my Uncle Johnny if he had my dad’s phone number. He had it and he gave it to me but told me not to tell who I got it from. The thing that really astounds me is how everybody was afraid of that cunt. If any of my bothers married a woman who then tried to keep him from his own children, I would face that bitch in a heartbeat and with all my strength. I'd never back down in that situation. I would fight for those kids so hard. Well I called the phone number and then hung up on the first ring. I did that a few times. Finally I got up the nerve to stay on the phone as it rang. She answered the phone. I said “Is Richard there”, she said “He’s out doing yardwork with his sons. Who is this?”. I just made up some name and told her that I was one of my dad’s co-workers. She said “I know all my husbands friends and he doesn’t have a friend by that name. What Richard are you looking for?” I said “Richard Corona”. She laughed and then said “Isn’t that funny, my husbands first name is Richard but his last name is not Corona. You have the wrong number.” She hung up. I got the nerve to call the number the next day hoping my dad would answer and I got the following: *The number you have called is disconnected or no longer in service.” That fucking bitch changed the number!

When I graduated I hoped my dad would show up. He did not. I felt a huge void, and even though my dad wasn’t the best dad out there, he was still my dad and I loved him. That’s the hardest part about all this, your parents can hurt you in the most imaginable ways and you cannot help but love them. How can you not?

One day in my early 20s, this is actually after my break up with Paul, I got on the bus to go home and my dad was right there in the front seat. I said “Dad?!”. He said “Mijo” (pronounced Me-ho, it means my son in Spanish). I went over and we hugged and we talked all the way until he got off the bus. He had just moved home with my Grandmother. He had been living in the riverbed for about 6 months. He had gotten divorced and lost everything and was too proud to ask for help so he was homeless for a while.

While my dad was with that whore he became very successful. He started his own welding business and was making up to $400,000.00 a year. During the time he was making all that money we were struggling. Over the summer of my sophomore year I grew 8 inches. We usually went to school in last years clothes until about October when my mother would have the money to get us new clothes. This year I could not go in last years clothes. Obviously. My father had stopped paying child support shortly after my mom got remarried. His excuse? That bitch gave him such a hard time about sending us $160.00 each month that he decided it was easier to keep peace in the house and just stop the payments instead of listening to her rage on about it. At the time he stopped his payments he was making $400 k!! That is how greedy that bitch is. She can’t step off of $160.00, which is a pittance for child support for 2 kids, while she lives in the lap of luxury. I hate her so much. And I would even be willing to include her in my journey of forgiveness but she has not changed. At my grandfathers funeral, she was there and she actually told my dad "What is she doing here." My mother never did a damn thing to that bitch, and she has the nerve. Hello you stupid ass, my mother (and my sister and I) were on the scene first. YOU are the one who broke up our family. I can't stand her still and she can fuck off as far as I'm concerned. She does not deserve my forgiveness. She'd only take it and shit all over it. No thanks.

My dad was literally working himself to death. He was working so many hours that the doctor told him that his health was in jeopardy if he kept up the pace. So he sold the business and decided to do something else. As soon as the money stopped rolling in, that whore divorced my dad. My dad let the house go into foreclosure so that she would not get it. He lost everything. That is how he ended up homeless. For all the pain my dad caused us, he got paid back in spades.

Azure, one thing that you said that really struck me was how your dad did not remember his antics. For years my dad blamed my mom for the failings of their marrage. Accusing her of cheating and playing mind games, meanwhile he was the only guilty party. My mother gave a bazillion percent and would have even endured the physical abuse to be with him. She’s told me as much. I told my mom that she should not regret the divorce and to think about how much it would have affected us children to see her getting hit all the time. I only saw a few fights and they are etched in my mind like a fire brand. The other thing that struck me was when you said how charismatic your father is. My dad is the most amazing person when he's sober. He's been sober ever since he left us thank God. My dad has the craziest sense of humor, that's one thing I got from him. Looking at him now, it's hard to imagine the monster he used to be.

My mom and dad have reconciled as friends. Actually my mother has never stopped loving my dad. A few times my mother has told me about conversations they have had about the past and sometimes my father gets angry and thinks that my mom is making things up. She told him about how one time she wanted to take the tax return check and buy a washer and dryer. She was doing wash by hand and hanging them to air dry. My dad refused and blew the whole check on bullshit. He said “Mommy, did I really do that?”. He does not remember so many of the mean bad and awful things he did cuz he was so fucking loaded he was in a black out.

Talking about all this stuff and really connecting with all of you on this level is quite therapeutic. I love everybody for sharing