My Dad and I haven't spoken in a while...
He announced he and my mom were getting a divorce two weeks before my wedding. I still don't really understand why, despite the explanations he gave me. I remember when he told me, I felt like I went on autopilot, robotic-calm and assurance turned on. Trying to give the appropriate response. I remember thinking how as a kid it was my biggest fear. When I was really young, my brothers told me that my parents might separate because I was such a "difficult" child. I learned years later that my dad, likely in a state of frustration and exhaustion, had told them that. Somehow, I had thought after moving away to university, we were out of the woods. I would no longer be there to put a strain on their relationship. They were together for over thirty years...he's bought a house in the same tiny town with his inheritance from my grandfather.
My dad was primarily in charge of homeschooling me until the eighth grade. I never really felt good enough for him. It's not like he didn't ever praise me, or offer me guidance...but it always came with a stinging criticism, or him eventually forgetting to help me with things like guitar lessons, or taking me to all the places that he said he would.
I feel like I don't really have a home to go to anymore. It's still there, of course, my Mom still lives there. But it's not the same. It just, quite frankly, feels like my whole childhood there was a lie. How can I go back? Knowing that all the hopes I had, all the time I believed I would have a place to come home to, all the memories I deluded myself into thinking were happy...it was all kind of devoid of meaning.
I know that they're both only human. But he still managed to hurt me in a bad way.
I still sometimes want to pretend none of it ever happened. Pretend I wasn't crying tears of sadness as much as joy on my wedding day, and that I'll be able to pull myself out of my depression now, get another job, get my life together, be a good wife...
And then of course, I worry about them. My mother, who can't handle her own emotions or other peoples' personal boundaries. My dad, who has Parkinson's, and can't even grasp what he's done wrong.
I want them to both be happy. I just don't understand why it meant having to put me through what feels like really unnecessary pain.
I've cried so much the past three months. I feel like I can't even cry about it anymore. I just feel bitter. I should be able to accept what's happened. I should be happy for them, for finally being able to get out of an unhappy relationship. I should be able to move on from the pain my dad put me through, growing up.
I should be a better daughter.
The thought of seeing them after all this pains me. It's hard enough talking to my mom, trying so hard to avoid certain subjects, hearing how hurt she is when I try to, for just a moment, express any of the hard things I'm going through.
And again, there's the blame and guilt. It's so hard to convince myself, even now, that it's not all my fault. It makes no sense. A six-year-old can't be responsible for their parents' relationship, and for that matter, a 25-year-old can't be either. But I spent so much of my life feeling responsible for keeping my family together. It's so hard not to feel, after all that time, that I haven't failed after all.
Why did he have to leave me with that?
My dad was primarily in charge of homeschooling me until the eighth grade. I never really felt good enough for him. It's not like he didn't ever praise me, or offer me guidance...but it always came with a stinging criticism, or him eventually forgetting to help me with things like guitar lessons, or taking me to all the places that he said he would.
I feel like I don't really have a home to go to anymore. It's still there, of course, my Mom still lives there. But it's not the same. It just, quite frankly, feels like my whole childhood there was a lie. How can I go back? Knowing that all the hopes I had, all the time I believed I would have a place to come home to, all the memories I deluded myself into thinking were happy...it was all kind of devoid of meaning.
I know that they're both only human. But he still managed to hurt me in a bad way.
I still sometimes want to pretend none of it ever happened. Pretend I wasn't crying tears of sadness as much as joy on my wedding day, and that I'll be able to pull myself out of my depression now, get another job, get my life together, be a good wife...
And then of course, I worry about them. My mother, who can't handle her own emotions or other peoples' personal boundaries. My dad, who has Parkinson's, and can't even grasp what he's done wrong.
I want them to both be happy. I just don't understand why it meant having to put me through what feels like really unnecessary pain.
I've cried so much the past three months. I feel like I can't even cry about it anymore. I just feel bitter. I should be able to accept what's happened. I should be happy for them, for finally being able to get out of an unhappy relationship. I should be able to move on from the pain my dad put me through, growing up.
I should be a better daughter.
The thought of seeing them after all this pains me. It's hard enough talking to my mom, trying so hard to avoid certain subjects, hearing how hurt she is when I try to, for just a moment, express any of the hard things I'm going through.
And again, there's the blame and guilt. It's so hard to convince myself, even now, that it's not all my fault. It makes no sense. A six-year-old can't be responsible for their parents' relationship, and for that matter, a 25-year-old can't be either. But I spent so much of my life feeling responsible for keeping my family together. It's so hard not to feel, after all that time, that I haven't failed after all.
Why did he have to leave me with that?