I got half of your chromosomes, so you’re my dad, right? I should think of you when I hear the word “dad” or “father”, but here’s the thing, I don’t. You gave me life and I’m forever thankful. You were there for some of my life and for that, i’m thankful. I still feel a lack of presence of a father figure in my life though. I still feel an empty void that isn’t in my life because where were you in the most crucial times of my life? Where were you when I needed you? Why was there more judgement than support? Why was there more blame than ownership? why was there more hate than love? Where was my dad?
If this is going to be a letter to you discussing everything that’s on my mind, why not start from the beginning? Why not start with before I was born? Why not start when you decided that you needed to put your hands on my mom? is that a good starting point for you because I have some questions. Why did you think it was okay to hurt someone? I could say why did you think it was okay to hurt a woman, but honestly, why hurt anyone? Why abuse someone purposefully? Why verbally abuse someone and tell them what to wear and what not to wear? How could you throw my mom out of your car in the middle of nowhere in the ghetto? Did you really think that was a good idea? it’s hard to believe that Mammaw and Pappaw raised you to be a woman abuser. Did you think it was smart to throw my mom down a flight of stairs while she was carrying me inside of her? You could have killed me, you know. But maybe that’s what you wanted? I honestly don’t know at this point. It’s never seemed like you wanted me as your child anyways. I could have died. After I was born and you and my mom separated, why did you feel so inclined to run over my mom’s leg with me in the car? What was going through your mind because I literally have no idea what can possess a person, a human, to run over their child’s mother. I tried making excuses for that incident, but I couldn’t think of any. I know you probably didn’t know this, but I developed post-traumatic stress disorder after that. I know you don’t believe mental illnesses are a real thing, but they are and I developed one because you decided to run my mom over with your car while I watched out the back window. I remember you taking me to Mammaw and Pappaw’s house. I remember how you made me hide under a table while you covered my mouth. You were hiding. You knew you did something wrong. SO if you knew you did something wrong, how come you still blame my mom that you ran over her leg. IF it was really her fault, how did you end up in jail? Obviously, you did something wrong, so why still blame my mom and lie to me? I’m not stupid or ignorant. I’m pretty smart actually.
While that is a main think I’ve wanted to say for a while, I still have plenty of other things on my mind that I want you to hear. I want you to really listen because these are my thoughts and feelings. I feel like they have been overlooked because you might be too proud to admit that you’re a human and you do things that aren’t that great. No one is perfect and I don’t hold people to that standard. I just want you to listen to me. I’m your daughter and I have some things that I think you should know.
When I came for visits, I had a good time. I liked spending time with you. I liked renting movies and watching them with you, Cody, and Angie. I liked having my own room at your house. It made me feel important to you. I liked how you made sure that I put lotion on after baths because it showed that you cared. You wanted to make sure that I didn’t have dry skin and I was taken care of. I appreciated these things so much. I know you cared in these moments. I know and I remember these times. You took Cody and I to a lot of cool places. I remember when we went to a water park and it was focused around this parrot. I’ve never seen a parrot up close and I thought it was so cool. We went on vacations some years and it was a blast. I feel like sometimes, you didn’t really know how to appeal to Cody and I, but I know you tried. I know you thought we only wanted the materialistic things from you. I hate to tell you, but I don’t really remember those times. I remember that car ride where you were being really goofy and singing to the car radio as loud as possible. I remember how you taught me to drive on those awful roads. I remember the time you took me on a motorcycle ride. I remember the time you took me to pick out a futon because you wanted to make sure I had a room at your new house. I remember the little things because those were the times were I felt really close to you. I felt loved and cared about by my dad, by you. With all of these good times I've had with you, I know you were hurt when those every other weekend visits turned into once a month visits or once every two months visits. I know it was hard for you and you want to blame my mom for me not seeing you ever weekend, but I can tell you that it was my decision. It was my decision in the way that middle school was more demanding. Friends become more of a focus in middle school. This was very true for me. In 6th grade, all I did was hang out with my friends. I was rarely at my house. I was only at home during the week and it was spent doing homework. Every weekend, I was at a friend’s house. This is what happens to middle schoolers. I know you felt left out, but I left my entire family out. Puberty happened and peers were overly emphasized in this period of my life. I’m sorry that you felt left out, but you weren’t the only one and it wasn’t my mom’s decision. She didn’t stop me from seeing you. I chose my friends over family. It had nothing to do with you.
I guess you should know that my depression and anxiety started in 5th grade as well. I was diagnosed in 6th grade by doctors. Again, mental illness is a real thing and it was and is still a part of my life, whether I like it or not. I managed in 6th grade, but fell really low in 7th grade. I guess you should know that your daughter tried to end her life more than 50 times in that school year. I wanted to die. I started self-harming. If you don’t know what that is, it’s where you purposefully cause harm to yourself. Many people cope in this way for many reasons, but mine was to release tension because I couldn’t release it in any other way. I felt stuck and trapped in my own skin and hurting myself was a way of release and escape. Self-harm is very complicated to understand, so I know i’m not describing it perfectly to help. 7th grade is when my addiction to self-harm began. You should know that I struggled with self-harm up until the end of my sophomore year of high school. I still struggle with it today, but I’ve been clean from self-harm for almost 4 years. It is my greatest accomplishment in my life. I’m glad you know now although you might not understand any of this. I started counseling in 8th grade. It helped. 8th grade was better for me in life, but I still struggled with self-harm, depression, and anxiety. 9th grade, I got involved in a bad crowd because I was dating a guy. I was not in a great place. I was very suicidal and I was self-harming more than I ever have. More suicide attempts happened this year. I even ran in front of a car. I was fine though. I know you didn’t know these heavy details and i’m sorry you have to read them now. I feel like you should know. The summer before my sophomore year in high school, I overdosed. You should remember that night. My mom called you telling you how I took a lot of pills trying to end my life and you responded that you were busy and had to work in the morning. You couldn’t bother taking off work to make sure I was okay. You couldn’t come to my hospital room to say that you’re glad that I’m alive. Why? Why was work more important to you after your daughter tried to take her own life? Why wasn’t I a priority to you? It hurt so badly. I was laying in a hospital bed with my mom and my pappaw next to me. I could barely keep my eyes open from how my pills I took that night. I heard the whole conversation between you. All I could do is turn my head away and cry because my dad couldn’t be there when I wanted to die most. I was hurt. I am still hurt because you weren’t there.
I went into the stress center after that attempt. I was there for 4 days. I went back to a different stress center in January. 6 months after, I was already back because I wanted to die again. I didn’t feel like I could keep myself safe. I was there for 7 days. I returned to another stress center in March. I was there for 2 weeks. I was getting worse, not better. Where were you? You never called me. You weren’t there to visit me in the stress center. You didn’t check on me. I wanted to die and you weren’t there for me. You were too busy with work and with Cody to be there for your first-born. You couldn’t be there for your daughter. It would have made a difference If I would have gotten a call just to say I love you.
You should know that I fought and I got better. It took a while to find the right medication to help balance the chemicals in my brain. I found the right combination and I’m getting better. You should know that depression and anxiety isn’t something that you just get over. It’s a brain problem. It takes a lot of counseling, mindfulness, and sometimes medication to help. In my case, medication was needed because my depression and anxiety has biological factors. This means that there are things happening in my brain that don’t allow me to get the same chemicals as others. I get lower doses of serotonin (the happy chemical). SO I need medication to increase my serotonin where I get the normal amount of that chemical that can help balance emotions and reactions. While my disorders are somewhat biological, they are also influenced my environment. This means counseling will help me in these areas. I still struggle because i’m not able to get counseling because of insurance. I know you say to just grow thicker skin and deal with it, but that’s not how that works. What may work for others, doesn’t work for all. That’s poor logic. People are unique and the things they struggle with are unique. The plans to help them become better people need to be unique as well. While I am getting better, I still struggle. I still have days where I don’t want to live. I still have days where I want to self-harm. I still have days where my depression is keeping me from doing school work. It keeps me from thinking people love me. It’s hard to deal with, but I have some great people in my life who support me when I am low.
I want you to know how hurt it made me when you emancipated me without telling me. To me, it felt like you had no more ties with me and you didn’t want them. This may not be true, but it is how I felt. I took it as a sign that you don’t want to even be looked at as my father anymore. Again, this is my interpretation of this situation. I was hurt when you didn’t approve of me going to the college that I picked. I don’t understand how you felt as if it involved you to help me pick the right college for me. I was hurt when you disapproved of my choice of my major. You tried to get me to do anything else other than psychology. Psychology is my passion. I am not passionate about anything else. I want my whole life to revolve around psychology and I’m sorry that you don’t understand that. I’m sorry that you can’t see how passionate I am about my major and school. I’m sorry that you didn’t want to help support me financially to get me in a better place. I’m going to school because I love school and I want to better myself. I want to better myself so I can better other’s lives through therapy. I want this and you didn’t approve. You didn’t support me in my choices. You still think that I’m gonna fail or change my major. I’m a junior and I”m graduating next spring. And guess what? I’m going to graduate school afterwards. I will do it with or without your support. It would just be nice to have you on my side. I feel like i can’t do anything right. I feel like I’m not good enough for you. I was always trying to live up to your expectations. I tried so hard. I realize now that I’m not going to live up to other’s expectations. I’m going to live up to my own expectations. I’m going to live for me and if you’re not there for me, then I guess I will have to learn to live with it. It will hurt not having my dad there to support me, but I haven't felt supported from you in a while. My life is for me. I will go into a career that makes me happy. I want to work in a place that I can be fulfilled. Why would you want your daughter working somewhere that I won’t be happy in? You should want me to be happy.
This whole letter is kind of all over the place. I just have been reflecting on some problems of mine that I’m trying to work through. I’m trying to get over my perfectionism. I’m working on my separation anxiety. I’m trying to change my thinking because I fear that everyone will leave me eventually in my life because I’m not good enough. I’m still scared of getting close to guys in general because I think they’re going to hurt me. I’m scared of being in a relationship because I don’t know if they really love me. I don’t know if they are just going to turn a switch and throw me down some stairs. I don’t know my worth. I struggle with feeling worthy of anyone feel like i’m a burden to everyone I meet. I’m scared to open up about my mental illnesses because i’m scared that i’m going to get it thrown back in my face like you did to me. I’m scared of the unknown because people leave. I’ve realized that I can’t contribute all of my problems that I just listed on your lack of being my father at times. I know it’s not solely your responsibility. I know there are other factors. I am aware of them. I just wanted to talk about the factors that involve you. I struggle with these problems because of the situations involving you. I am not dwelling on them because I know that most of these situations involving you that I've discussed are in the past. There’s nothing I can do to change any of that. But I still have a future and at this point, I don’t know if there will be more situations involving you in the future. I’m not sure because I can’t predict the future. I just want to point out that the problems that I mentioned earlier would have probably turned out a bit different if you were a father to me for my whole life instead of only parts of it. I feel like I would have been a different person if you were there for me that night I tried to kill myself. I don’t know though. I feel like I would be different and I would be struggling less with my self-worth. I feel like I would be more confident in my relationships. Do you know that my relationships suffer because I get scared that everyone will leave and I push people away. I try to protect myself by pushing them away because I’m afraid they will leave like you did. I’m scared they will judge me like you did and still do. This is starting to sound like i’m blaming you. I kind of am. It is your fault. I’m not going to keep making excuses for you. I’m not going to keep letting you off the hook for not being there.
The truth is, you were not a great dad. You still aren’t a great dad. You’re barely a dad to me. It’s still important to point out that it kills me inside that you are barely a dad to me. It kills me inside that I can’t tell you about college or my boyfriend. It kills me inside that I don’t know if you will be walking me down the aisle if I were to ever get married. I hate these thoughts, but they are there. As much as I know that you weren’t and aren’t a great dad because you’re not really existent in my life, I still hold the tiniest shred that you’ll get better. I still have the tiniest bit of hope that you will want to to actively be a part of my life again. I still dream about the day where you support my life choices and stand by my side through my struggles. I know that you have done some awful things in my life to me and the people I love, but you’re still a part of me. You are still someone who gave me a chance to live on this awful, but beautiful planet. I know there may be not hope between us and our relationship. I know that it might be impossible for us to be close. I know that I might not ever talk to or see you again until the end of one of our lives, but I hold on to hope because I am still made of parts of you.
