A Daughter's Anguish

Nobody better than me knows that Father's Day is fast approaching. More than others, this one is really bothering me. I haven't really talked to my dad since August of last year and that's a fair estimate. I know those who have lost a parent see the idiocy of my actions. But here's the thing. When your parents divorce, mainly the things that your father did before/during/after, sometimes death is easier.

My dad chose to leave. He chose to have limited contact with his two biological children and spend his time raising his step-children. When you see your father more invested in the lives of someone elses' kids when all you want is some kind of attention from him; your heart breaks in ways that you can't even begin to imagine. So yes, death would have been easier, it would not have been a choice that he made to leave us. I could grieve and know that it would get better. Rather, divorce is living death. You grieve when he's gone, you know that when you do see him you don't see your father but a stranger that looks like your dad and talks like your dad but isn't (maybe he's a zombie?).

I know that every time I see him that *I* put myself into those situations. I don't know if the reason everything is stalled when we see each other is because we're both afraid to resume life or start over. I won't deny that some of the things I did or some of the choices I made have hurt him too. I know that Dad still sees me as 16 years-old in so many ways. I can't fully explain the logic and reasoning in my head for the reasons that I'm still conflicted and in pain and why I let myself feel that way.

When he left, I was old enough to understand what was going on. My brother, on the other hand, did not. The day that he left, I made a promise to myself that I would protect my brother from what was going on. If I could deflect the pain and the shitiness of the situation; and I could help mom so that things didn't feel so lopsided that my brother would walk away relatively unscathed. I knew there would be times that I couldn't deflect the pain but if I could at least lessen what was there. Sometimes I feel like I failed him in that aspect.

I blame my dad for a lot of what we went through. I blame him for causing my mom pain by leaving, I blame him for turning our lives upside down, for hurting and letting down my brother and I blame him for walking away for reasons I still don't fully understand. And I blame him because it just doesn't go away or get better. Yes, I own some responsibility for that. And I don't know what to do to fix it.

I feel like I owe my dad an explanation for my silence. I can't fix this thing by myself. He's my father and deep down there is a biological connection that as much as I steel myself from the pain and disappointment, it never goes away. I ache to know that I am letting my father slip away. To go back to the past is always a mess. I don't think he fully understands what life was like when he was gone. What his actions, whether or not he thought would involve us, did and how they really did upend our lives and how in so many ways it still does.

I don't know where to go with this. When you deal with someone whose thoughtlessness caused so much pain, how do you go forward? I don't want to keep this living death going anymore. Walking away isn't working, it doesn't make everything better. Emotionally I can't, I'm emotionally stunted and I just don't have the energy to keep this up. I don't know how to make this relationship with my dad work so that not only I can move forward but so can my dad.