Saturday, July 20, 2013
I Didn't Wish My Dad Happy Birthday For First Time In Over Ten Years
Updated July 22, 2013 --
My dad's birthday is today, July 20th.
It's the same day every year of course. That is, it's the day that my sexually abusive father came into this world. For the first time in over ten years, I didn't even try to wish him happy birthday. I have my reasons, which some of you already know. He was my main sexual perpetrator and I tried to forgive him, and I even had a good decade run with him and had many laughs. We went swimming, talked all night and more.
However, I will never trust him, and I decided a few months ago I was done with him.
I'm guessing it might be on his death bed, in his coffin, or at his grave where I will see him next. It could be a year from now or twenty years from now all I know. All I know is that I have no cake, candles or ice cream for him today. I also have no idea if I will ever get justice while he's alive or after he's gone.
All I know is I feel more anger now than ever because I lived a life of hell for the past 21 years. I know other people have far worse problems than me--like losing a child in the trunk of a car or having a lover die in their arms. However, I might have to live alone and never have the experience of being with someone who really knows about me.
Not only that but he has custody of my teenage sisters and keeps running out of state with them.
Back in April, I wrote about how it was easier for me not to be angry with my dad at age 25. I start out by mentioning how my sisters no longer receive their Social Security money. I wondered why and hope it's not because my dad was abusing them like he did to me.
On that blog post, I also shared how mad I am now versus when I was younger. I only thought I had myself to worry about then, but now I have to suffer a second time for my sisters. All I can think of to do now is let the media know what my dad did to me growing up -- molested me when I was 10, and the abuse grew more graphic until I was 18 and moved out.
At wit's end, I spend all day today on my dad's birthday writing to the press. My dad ruined my life and I thought I could recover. However, I never accomplished anything I hoped to achieve. The only thing that will make my life worth living is if the media takes my story.