My dad and I don't speak to each other. Occasionally I feel sad about this, because I think he used to love me, back when he adopted me, but now I think he feels the same way about me that I finally feel about him: I nothing him.
When I say I nothing him, it's like saying I hate him or I care about him or I (insert verb indicating feelings here) him. Except, I feel nothing toward him most of the time, so I nothing him.
Sometimes, though, I get angry and want to go punch his face in, because if I ever tried to tell him how I feel he would get angry and defensive and call me terrible names and such or he would just walk away, ignoring me completely. Really mature, right? Either way, he wouldn't even care to hear about it. But it's pretty hard to ignore a strong punch in the face.
My memories of my dad consist of three things:
5% Warm and fuzzy memories of when he actually listened to me or said something nice to or about me,
60% Not being home, out doing other things with other people, ignoring his family's emotional (and sometimes physical) needs,
35% Being home and yelling at or criticising me (or all of us) about something stupid that either isn't even true or is something no person in his right mind would get angry about (one time I got in huge trouble for getting ice out of the freezer without asking...not even kidding).
When I took the ACT and got a 34 (out of 36) he basically told me I was stupid and I should have done better. And for a while there, I did think I was stupid because I thought he was so smart and he knew so much about the world and the way things should be. Apparently, I was incredible naive. I pushed myself to my limits in school and got all sorts of awards along with my perfect grades and the mountains of extracurricular activities I put on my transcript, and he never acknowledged that I was doing well (Mim, however, was always very proud of me and supported me in everything I tried to do. Even gymnastics, which was a total failure, but she was proud of me for trying).
One of our running family jokes was that if something would make him mad, we would all get the silent treatment for exactly 3.5 days, to the hour. I'm not even kidding. It was so perfectly consistent that we actually found it funny. The exception was the summer before I left for college, when he refused to talk to Mim for three months, resulting in her breaking down and ending up in the psych ward for a week. He, of course, denies he ever did that. Now I find it both funny and pathetic (not the Mim in the hospital part, the 3.5 days part).
Sadly, he was such a "good person" in my eyes that I wanted to be just like him, so I immersed myself in religion and science and wanted to be a doctor just like him. It took me years to figure out that he is a selfish, arrogant, holier-than-thou, racist (very very racist) person, and once I realized that I was able to let go of a lot of things I had been very angry and hurt about. I even feel sorry for him sometimes. But, once again, for the most part I nothing him.
All this aside, the reason I sometimes get so angry at him is this:
He cheated on Mim and nearly destroyed our family. Em was so torn up about it she tried to commit suicide and ended up in the psych ward for a week (I'm thinking there's a pattern to this). Jorg lost his faith in God, because he prayed and prayed and prayed and God never answered his prayers that our family might somehow be mended. I had to deal with a lot of this during my first year of marriage, which was hard enough in and of itself, with my being sick and our being broke and my not being able to find a job. Mim was so heartsick she couldn't eat anything for months and lost about 50 lbs.
He used Kwiddens. She knew about the other woman and he was nice to her for the first time ever and so Kwiddens felt obligated to stay out of it and not tell Mim about the affair. He would have Kwiddens tell Mim he was hanging out with her when he was actually with the other woman. I used to be angry at Kwiddens for this but now I understand how horrible the whole situation was and that staying out of it was probably for the better.
Everyone in my family went through hell and a half.
So about the other woman: her name is Cambria (total stripper name...) and she was (get this): his patient. Ethics apparently be damned. Even to this day, he lies to all of us and claims they are "just friends", even though we all know from outside sources that they are engaged. That just drives me crazy: that he thinks we will just fall for his stupid lies, and that he's not man enough to admit that he's done something wrong, even when we all caught him with his hands in the cookie jar.
Every time I think I am over this, something new comes up. Usually it involves the way he treats Em, Jorg, and Kwiddens, especially Kwiddens. For some reason he has always had it out for her, ever since the day he married Mim. I had it bad, but she had it way worse. He picked on her relentlessly and I don't know how she gets past that on a daily basis. I understand that Kwiddens's getting pregnant wasn't the best thing to happen, but things happen and we move on and make the best of it, yes? Our whole family is now in love with this beautiful little baby and we are so proud of Kwiddens for making such a beautiful little baby and being an amazing mother, and we are happy to have Isaac in the family. All of us except for Dad. Dad now refuses to even speak to Kwiddens and has no desire to see the baby, which I find totally heartbreaking, because there will come a time when Nyah will ask, "Why don't I have two grandpas?" (or three, depending on if you count our BioDad) and someone will have to say "Well, he doesn't love you" (or something) (how would you even answer that question??).
So, something else happened that brought it all back and I feel like I have to start all over again.
Yesterday I found out that he's getting married. Tomorrow. He didn't bother to tell me, Kwiddens, or Mim. We only found out because he invited Em and Jorg.
I don't resent Em and Jorg at all for this. I'm even proud of them that they're mature and kind enough to rise above it all and wish him happiness. But I can't help but think that maybe if I were actually his biological child maybe he would love me enough to invite me to his wedding.
It seems I'm not meant to have a father figure in my life. I'm usually fine with that. But sometimes I get so jealous of people who spend time with their fathers and look up to and respect them. I just can't respect him. I think I might even stop calling him Dad. It seems harsh I suppose, but apparently he doesn't think of me as his daughter any more, so from now on, he's just Jason.
What a prick.
Also, you would not believe how many awful words I used in my first draft of this post. Extensive editing brought it back down to a PG-13 level.