Where to begin?
I was told that when you and my mother first got together, you and I were very close. Of course I was barely two then so I have no memory of such closeness. Do you know what I do remember? My first memory of you is when I was three and I was going to bed. I went to you to give you a hug and a kiss goodnight and you turned your head and roughly pushed me away. Apparently you and my mother had a fight and you took it out on me. Our relationship continued to go downhill from that point on.
I remember consoling my mom after you screamed at her, calling her awful names, and took off for hours. Maybe even all night. I remember you giving me looks as if I were a disease riddled rat you just couldn’t get rid of. Any time you told me to do something and I did it the wrong way (otherwise known as not your way) you’d flip out on me yelling, “Are you stupid or something?” You teased me maliciously and relentlessly and not the goofy, cutesy kind of teasing, you were downright mean. One time you even called me a “little shit” because I was being a kid and accidentally hit you in the head with a toy. I was fucking five! I was a little girl who wanted nothing more than your love and approval. I couldn’t get any from my own father and I obviously was such an utter disappointment that I didn’t deserve any from you.
When my little sister, your first born daughter, was born I was seven, almost eight, and I officially became the evil, red-headed step-child. When I found out we had to leave Mom at the hospital I cried. I cried the whole car ride home and you yelled at me and called me a baby. I was scared she wouldn’t come back, but that didn’t matter to you. I was just a huge inconvenience for you. When my sister was probably six or seven months old she was laying on the couch and I was supposed to be watching her, but I got distracted by the TV and she rolled off. She cried and I tried to pick her up and console her, but you pushed me away so hard I fell to the floor. You screamed at me, putting you finger in my face, and told me to never ever touch her again. When Mom tried to defend me you snapped at her too. You acted as if I threw her onto the floor. You made it clear several more times I was not as good as your biological daughter and I began to hate my sister. I was only eight years old.
By time I went to the seventh grade I was so miserable I started thinking about suicide. The only thing that kept me from doing it was I did not want to leave my mom alone in that miserable situation, but I found a way to relieve my pain. I’ll admit, when I started cutting I did it just to get attention, but I realized it actually made me feel better.
Any time we would take a family trip it would be ruined by your pissy attitude. Mom and I walked around that house on eggshells. The more kids she had with you the more of a burden I became. By my high school years I was so sick of the bullshit, your anger and your foulness was abhorrent and you even started treating your own daughters like shit. Screaming and yelling at us every single fucking day. I joined as many afterschool programs as I could just so I could stay out of that God forsaken house. Seriously, none of us were good enough for you unless we were living your dream of being great at softball.
Recently I have been told you have changed. That you no longer have your anger issues. Wanna know what my theory for that is? You have someone you can blame everything on. My mom. She left you and you’re feeding your kids shit filled lies about my mother. The mother of YOUR children. My mother put up with your sorry, pathetic ass for over two decades. She had to work two jobs because you were perfectly content milking your disability check. Then when disability finally said fuck off, get a job, you whined and cried about how you’re older now and can’t do the jobs you used to do. You used every excuse under the sun instead of stepping up LIKE A MAN and getting a damn job to help provide for your family.
I don’t believe you have changed at all. You are just as miserable as you’ve always been, but you’re being Disneyland Dad for your kids so you can hurt Mom. Showing them the time of their lives so they’ll stay with you even though you’re on the brink of losing that house. Feeding the kids lies about what Mom has done and continues to do. You can’t even be bothered to actually be a parent to them. You let them do whatever they want. No responsibilities, no structure, the only thing that matters is getting your youngest daughter to her softball practices and games. Do you even know what your other kids are doing? Do you care? I highly doubt it, but PLEASE feel free to correct me. I would love to hear all about how you are a “changed man.” Make sure the kids witness it though, because if they’re not around your true colors might show and we wouldn’t want to tear down that fragile facade, would we?
The Ungrateful Step-Daughter You So Heroically Took Under Your Wing And Raised As If She Were Your Own…