My father was a man that I used to respect and idolize. I used to spend my mornings spending time with him. In high school he used to make me a cup of tea and breakfast every morning. It wasn’t until later that I realized that he was only able to do this because he was unemployed. He had lost his job of 13 years because he tried to steal company property. I didn’t know that truth until many years later and it made me so angry. To me, my father was a hard working person, that took nothing more seriously than his job. The story I was told was that he had accidentally walked out with company property and was laid off because his job was replaced by a computer. I believed that lie for years, until he told me the truth. I was so angry, but as always I just buried the anger deep inside.
Anger is an emotion that I don’t like, so I try my best not to experience it or express it. Not only does it make me irrational, which is awful for me in itself, but anger is usually not well received with others. As I am a people pleaser by nature, I hide my anger so that I’m more likeable. It’s become so ingrained in who I am, that I’m near incapable of feeling anger. It just boils inside of me and festers, until I usually implode, as taking it out on other people would not be okay.
The point though, in which I lost all respect for my father, was the day that he left our family. He drilled into me when I was younger that you never give up. Whatever you start, you finish. He made a vow, to my mother, that for sickness or health, better or worse, he would always be there. That’s not even the worst part of it! He just walked into the living room one day and told the family that he had a new girlfriend and that he was moving out. To make matters worse, I was at college when this happened, and nobody told me. I care Home for thanksgiving or Christmas break, I don’t remember which, but all of a sudden, he wasn’t there. I had no idea what happened or why, until much later. For that, for abandoning us, more importantly me, I now harbor an intense resentment for the man, whom was once my hero. I mean I only see him 6 times a year. If I were a father, I would make a point of seeing my kids as much as I could. I have a feeling that he’ll even forget my birthday next week. He is, now, a total failure of a father. I can’t ever tell him this, because I’m too kind. Yet sometimes I just wish I could scream at him until my lungs give out.
He shattered my world. Even after being there for me after my suicide attempt, he just up and left and forgot all his responsibilities as a father. For that, I will never forgive him. I figured that I would share this story with you all, because it would help to quell the anger inside me. Hopefully, anyone reading this in a similar situation, knows they are not alone. Maybe even musters the courage that I never could to confront their parent. Whatever you take from my story, thank you for reading.