Daddy's Girl

I have mixed feelings about writing. I don't mind it when I'm talking about a topic that's not personal like creativity but when it comes to writing about me: the artist and my life: It's a want to but I don't kinda deal. On the one hand, I'd rather I told my own story then others after I pasted. I want my children to have an accurate account of what really happened from my point of view: how I felt about it. How I got past it, but just the act of writing about it comes across like I'm stuck in the past. Which I'm not.


I really didn't go into detail with my children about it while they where growing up.


I just stated the facts: I was abused. Turned them in an that's why we don't always get along. They would see my parents on holidays an that was about it. Mainly because that's about all I saw them, with the exception of working with my dad at the bar. Daddy, an yes I do still call him that as an adult tried in his own way tried to bring the family back together through that place. Him, me & my sisters. An it worked to a degree because we all had a job to focus on. We all where focused on saving what his ex wife tried to take from us. We had a common goal. I know I worked too hard as a kid just to loose it so I helped. It healed some wounds between us, but I wasn't willing to be subjected to any abuse.


An for the most part he was careful not to.


He needed me after all. It wasn't a job he could just do himself. An to at least me, it was a omission that he at least needed his kids. The pay was awful though, an I had my own family to support. I really didn't like subjecting myself to the pressure of arguing with him over details of the business. It was like pulling teeth some days, to get him to do things with it I knew had to be done. It was really annoying to have to deal with his ego. He had to believe something was his idea in order to do it sometimes. An I would get extremely frustrated emotionally. He just didn't seem capable of giving anyone else credit but himself. The truth boils down to he couldn't afford to pay me a management salaries others could. An I couldn't take the pressure of him. Managing was a lot easier in my eyes working for someone unrelated to me. So I quit twice on him. He didn't fire me.


I came back the second time because my sister was in the office in tears.


Saying she couldn't do it either without me. So, I picked the gauntlet back up and worked it, my in home daycare and painted commercial building all at the same time. I had to spread myself really thin to make it financially an do that job. An I left because I ended up loaning him money off my credit to get caught up. He thought the money came from my grandmother an refused to pay it. Or me any kind of reasonable salary. I paid 9% interest on that $5000 loan for almost seven years paying it back. While he'd argue: I wasn't worth the money.


An it was the final blow between us before he passed.


He said to me: I wasn't worth the money. An I just went off on him: Told him to “fuck off, grandma isn't here to apologize for you anymore.” I was the last kid, still hanging in there speaking to him. He had fired the other two over issues he should have address years before he did. They had both told him off way before I had. He was grieving, an maybe I shouldn't have let that be the last words to him but the man had a way of pushing your buttons. An it's why I left when I got pregnant with my son. I didn't need that kinda emotional bs when I was pregnant. Wouldn't subject myself to it. I'd still go over there an visit. Check in on things but I'd only help in a way that didn't reopen emotional wounds for me.


I kept my emotional distance. I just learned I had to with my parents.
Both of them have good sides to them, I just never usually get to see that side much of either of them. I am thankful to others for showing that to me. Cause I did need to see, they where not terrible with everyone. Just me.


I'm just lucky that way I guess.


They both save an take out there worst on me. They always have. I'm the family scapegoat. I just kinda got use to it. Ignored it mainly, because after I turned 18 my emotional support never came from either of them. You tend not to need your parents approval when the rest of the world validates you. All I ended up with is mixed feelings about both of them. I love them both deeply, but at the same breath they can be toxic for me. And I know it.


As long as I didn't have money dealings with my father as an adult we could get along just fine.


It didn't mean I forgot the man beat me as a child. It really just boiled down to me forgiving him for my own peace of mind. Not his. He knew he did something wrong. Stated that to me when it happened at thirteen. Apologized for it. Promised it wouldn't happen again form him: An he didn't. He kept his word. An that's why it's so much easier to forgive him, then it was my mother. She can't understand that.


First of all, he did it a lot less.


His way of disciplining you normally was to work ya to death. Or talk your ear off til you cried. She can't understand why us girls act like he's a saint now. Well, I don't. I'm perfectly aware of the mans flaws. I had to listen to them regularly from my grandmother. An those flaws he had where just him being human. We all are. He had money issues from his second divorce, was struggling to get back on top of where he was before her. That I can forgive easily. I've been through two divorces myself with same kinda ex that won't go away and leave you the hell alone. My first, we where just too young when we married. The second still to this day, won't mind his own business and stay away from mine.


An let me tell ya it's annoying to be stalked through your own family.


An my mom staked my dad, so we definitely had things in common at I grew older. But what she doesn't seem to understand, his bad bad behavior with me stopped. He didn't continue to do it to me. His apology was sincere. The sisters think he treated me different. He didn't. My mother did. They do because of her, but he didn't really. If he needed a honest opinion, I was the one he came to. They all do. I'm the one that choose to keep my distance.


I do it because I don't like emotional manipulation an bullshit games.


I look at all the things that have gone on since my grandmother and father have passed. An I can honestly say: It's not them. They aren't here to pull emotional shit on me. It gives me a lot of peace actually. Because it's clear the bullshit wasn't coming from their direction. They both left plenty of “signs” I was loved and accepted for who I was. It's made me rethink a few things that went on in our household those remaining years.


Because he left shortly after I did.


He didn't stick around for the bullshit once my sister & I where older either. His only regret an I know this to be fact: Was he couldn't take the youngest with him. Which is a totally different subject, I don't want to get into right now. This is about my father an my relationship with him. My father though for years it was my grandmother getting in the way of our relationship. Truth is, she spent a lot of time trying to mend it once I was out of the house.


An I was pretty conflicted.


When he divorced my mother: He tried to tell me but I stopped him. Told him, she's my mother. Please respect that. An he did. He never spoke a ill word about her to me after that. He lived with it. An to this day, she really doesn't get how he comes out smelling like roses in this. An I'll tell ya why: He didn't speak about her much. An when he did, he choose his words carefully. I've tried to do the same myself, with my kids about their fathers. I don't run on them, except the one that won't get the hell out of my families lives: An the most the kids normally get is: He's an asshole.


My dad finally did sit me down one day because grandma made him an told me his version of what happened. An he kept it short and brief. He married her because she was pregnant with me. He wanted me not necessarily her. The just of what he said was, they...the family was afraid she'd take off with me an them not know where I was or how I was doing. An back then, it was the right thing to do. So he did, even though he really didn't want to. An he had my sisters because that's what ya did back in those days. He said he loved kids, an wanted us but he never loved her like a man should. That she was more like taking care of another child, then a way a man should feel about his wife. An he left it at that.


He didn't go into every shitty thing that happened over those 20 years.


Deep down, I knew he was lying about it. I've always know he didn't love her like a guy should but trying to make it work. An it's effected my relationships because I won't stay in a relationship for the wrong reasons. A birth didn't seem like a good enough reason to torture oneself an I really wish he had not put himself through that. Or her. Nothing seems sadder to me then to trick yourself into believing a man loves you who doesn't. An nothing seems more devastating to me then having a spouse who sabotages your life either to get what they want. My mom got her way in the short term, but not the long run. An no one can ever accuse me of making that mistake with men.


I've never used a child to try to manipulate someone.


In fact, I've walked twenty miles around it an have no regrets doing so. I'd much rather fly solo having children then delude myself. It's been harder raising them but I'm okay with that because like him. I wanted children but unlike her I wanted someone with me for the right reason: They love me, not just our off spring. My hang up, I totally admit it. But in my mind, you can love me an them together. Or just them separately if you don't. I see no reason to drag out anyone's pain in the name of love.


Anyway since Daddy's death, I've had to reevaluate some things because of the way orders where giving around my house as a child. Most of the time, they where giving by my mother in my dad's name. Not his voice. He was always mad out to be the bad guy. He's the one telling me to tell you to do something. An this all happened around the time he was about ready to leave. He had an affair. Around the time I turned them into DCFS. He continued the affair for ten years. He didn't leave.


An a part of me feels it was my fault he didn't. He should have.
It's not wrong to want to have your own dreams & life.


What I'm realizing, specially now that he's gone an I've been the target of a lot of bs. Is it really wasn't him. He may have been difficult. He may have beat me a few times he shouldn't have but most of it is on her. Just like my grandmother had said for years. Because like I said, neither are here to attack my character.


An I really have been put through the mill since they died.
An it only comes from one direction. Same old direction.


So it's vindicating my dad.


That's all it's doing. Over an over again. See?
Not here to do it to ya. Not saying it. Not making false accusations.
Not trying to control you or manipulate you. Not telling others, your something your not.


So I have a real problem on my hands because my mother is aging. An I don't want to hate her, but I really don't want much to do with her either. I'd like to enjoy her before she passes away. Cause we all do pass at some point, but I don't find her very enjoyable. I don't want her to die an me have any regrets but a lot of nasty tricks have been played on me since they have passed. She's managed to wiggle her way into my life again an there has been nothing but problems for me since she has.


She's not a entirely bad person.
She has her good side, we all do.


An I've forgiven her on more the one occasion for the things she did to me as a child but what I can't deal with is her doing it to me in my adult life an trying to come between me & my children. An using them as pawns, trying to get even. She used my sisters like this against me when I moved out of the house. Blamed it all on my dad. Saying he was the one that wouldn't let me see them. It was always her blaming him.


Well he's not here to blame.


And as she's gotten more involved with my kids: The more problems I've had. Same exact kinda of problems I have with my youngest sister. An I really had to step back an watch to see if it was both my sisters or just the one. An it is always the one, that was left with my mother. Always. Same tactics. Same gas lighting. Same old bullshit. I don't even think she's aware she's doing it.


My father didn't treat me “different”


They did. He might have been hard on me, but he didn't steal from me. Lie to me or run me down to other professional contacts or the pubic in general. He didn't scream at me to sigh the check bitch! After surgery or call the police on me giving false reports. Repeatedly. He didn't have his friends threaten to beat me up. He didn't get me arrested for something he did. He didn't withhold money from me I earned. Play games with my financial stability. Or take away things that where mine. Nor did he trick me into signing papers when I was drugged. Or make false reports to DCFS. He didn't attack me on all fronts . Nor did he try to run me out of town professionally.


He is not here to gang up on me: An it didn't happen when he was alive.
An it's really easy to see, with the sisters in separate bars now.


It all comes from one direction. The same old one. My mothers side.
An as much as I love my sister, it's a hard pill to swallow.


Same hard one my dad had to eat but they've gotten all they are going to get from me: And I don't want your kind of help. It's toxic. An this is the kind of problem an adult survivor of abuse has. You love your family or you wouldn't have bothered to turn them into begin with. You do it, so it will stop. An maybe just maybe you can get back to being the family you're suppose to be. That happened on one side of the family, not the other. An I just have to face that.


My youngest daughter said to me, at the beginning of this contact with my mother, why do you hate her? She's a sweet little old lady. I told her I don't hate her. An I don't. I don't trust her. An never will. See, when someone really is abusive to you: You never do win there trust back if it continues. You try to love them despite it. My dad's abuse stopped when I was thirteen. I wished I had come to this conclusion earlier but his death is really what sunk it in.


I feel the need to vindicate him.


He's not here still instigating problems.
Or being some obstacle in my life to over come.


What I think about now is how he use to take care of me when I was little. How he'd put up with Captain Kangaroo drinking his coffee for my sake. Get me dressed in the morning: Take me every where he went. How he taught me about plants, or colors or encourage me to draw something different. How he'd play with us as children. Or how he taught me to read. Later on, how to paint a wall or strip old wood work. My good memories of him far out weigh the bad. He spent a lot of time with me as a child. An I guess it's something my mom doesn't get either. He might not took us out to fancy places all the time: but he spent a lot of time with us at home when we where young. I've tried to do the same. Even if my kids do think I was a space cadet half the time. I was there. Not perfect but there.


I remember who was an who wasn't.
An who the drama always was around.
It never really was him. He was quiet.


Anyway: I miss him an sorry it all got laid on him.
He's not the villain he was made him out to be.


An neither am I.