Goodbye Daddy.

~Friday, November 24, 2006~

Today’s entry is going to be one of brutal honesty and painful truths acknowledged. I have tried to gloss over the hurts, paint a different truth with my altruistic brush, but underneath it all, the pain and sadness is the same and it is time I acknowledged it.

My father has recently started to date a TWENTY TWO year old girl. He kept talking about her (she’s apparently going to school to become a rocket scientist ~yes literally~ and she’s got a Masters in something else and a condo and an acreage with a cow ~why that’s relevant to anything, I am not sure, but apparently to my father owning livestock is an accomplishment~ and a car and she’s good with money…and, and, and,…blah, blah, blah…) He told me about their “dates” and really, just gave me more information than I wanted or could deal with.

When his diatribe of the virtuous brilliant child was finished he asked me for my opinion of the “relationship” and I flat out said “It’s fucking disgusting” which didn’t really impress him and while he kept trying to convince me that their “relationship” was “a good thing” and that “he was just having fun, and if it lasts 2 months or forever, he’s happy”.

He brought this little girl to my home on Wednesday night to drop off some things that I had bought through his ex-wife’s kid’s dance school. First, I couldn’t believe that he actually had the gal to parade this pubescent adolescent around his ex-wife (who was ironically still an adolescent when they started dating as well…I was 14, she was 19, though other sources say she was actually 17…I’m not sure…but anyway, Melody was YOUNG)

I couldn’t believe it when I met her. She seriously looked like something from a Disney cartoon, big batting eyes and a simpering little smile. I was horrified and needless to say my original opinion of their “relationship” had not changed.

For a little background knowledge, my father is 53 years old. I am turning 30 in May 2007, my sister Kim turned 28 in October 2006. My father has been divorced twice. One marriage failed due to his emotional brutality, adultery, drug use, and inability to commit to the family he had helped create. The other marriage failure was to a (turning) 35 year old woman who he ended up having a child with (imagine being 50 years old with a new born baby…) who he never made time for and treated like a personal maid, chef, and lover rather than an actual partner. When Melody filed for divorce the only person surprised by it was my father. The fact that Melody got 90% of what she wanted to walk away from the marriage burns my father even more. So much for the pre-nup she signed. When he told me he had asked Melody to marry him I told him to get a pre-nup, he got so pissed off at me he didn’t talk to me for almost 3 months…ironically, the pre-nup is the only reason melody didn’t get everything my father has worked to have.

Thursday morning at work he asked me “well, what do you think?” and I told him my original opinion had not changed, and that I would not be around him or in his life when she is. It is disgusting, and no one will be able to convince me that it isn’t. At that point he got very angry, walked away, then came back and said something to the effect of “while I don’t need your approval or acceptance for anything I do in my life, maybe you should learn how to word things in a less hurtful manner”. I instantly replied with something to the effect of “why bother? After 30 years you aren’t going to hear it now and my patience level of dealing with this has evaporated” and then he replied with “look in the mirror child” to which I said “oh, how funny, NOW I am a child” and he walked away.

Later that day I looked up and suddenly there this child was following my father around the work place like a little barely dressed puppy. She was in a SHORT skirt and stiletto heels and my amazingly ridiculous father was introducing her to his peers and other staff on the floor as “my friend” (complete with leering grin, wink wink, nudge nudge) and I am really unsure if he just decided to ignore, or if he noticed and didn’t care. Everyone he introduced her to looked completely horrified. Seriously, was bringing her to the office that WE BOTH must happily coincide in really fucking necessary??!?!!? He seems to want unquestioning loyal respect but doesn’t care how his actions and lack of professionalism affect ME and the other people in the office.

Thursday afternoon, after the dust had settled around my cubicle, I phoned Satna and had a quiet breakdown. She reaffirmed that I am entitled to my opinion and while I could’ve been kinder in the way I expressed it, I am not to second guess how I feel about it. I talked to her for over an hour. About 20 minutes after I got off the phone with Satna, Brennan called me. While I was in therapy Brennan was my assigned therapist. He knows my entire history and he asked me to come to the hospital on Friday afternoon and asked me how I would feel about doing an action group **shudders and groans** with Satna, Noel, and himself about the unresolved anger I have towards my father.

When I was in therapy we had to undergo “Family Interviews” and I had mine with my mom and father and the 2 therapists that were in the room were Brennan and Noel. I couldn’t wait for my interview. I couldn’t wait to unload on my father for every action he had taken in his life that had a negative impact on me. I was a solitary soldier going in to that interview to kick some serious parental ass. Brennan and Noel refused to let me get angry in the interview. Every time I started to get worked up, upset, angry, defiant, anything at all, they spun it around and segued into another topic. My father issued alot of "I've made a lot of mistakes, but I am a different person now" statements in this interview. He flat out made me a promise that he would be making an effort to get involved in my life. None of the things he promised during that interview have happened. It was just more lip service from him.

Brennan apologized to me yesterday for not allowing me to get angry and work through my thoughts and feelings. They are now giving me a chance to work through some of it. Brennan has even nominated himself to be my “father” in the action group today. It should be enlightening, and knowing the way that the 3 of them operate, twisted and painful.

I have to leave to go to the hospital in 10 minutes. So that brings me to this moment and the turmoil I have going on inside my head. I will finish this when I get home from the appointment with Satna, Brennan, and Noel, and work out what I learned.

~Saturday, November 25, 2006~

WHAT on earth could a 53 year old man have in common with a 22 year old child? There is no way that life experiences could be similar. It’s possible that they have similar likes, hobbies, and tastes but that still does not make it acceptable to date someone you could have procreated. My sister Kim told me that all the women at the bar my father goes to (imagine having a 53 year old father who’s biggest thrill is still going to the bar 4 nights a week…) do not know how old he is. They kept asking her. I truly wonder if this little girl that my father has decided to mess around with knows how old he really is. Ultimately, I am aware that his life decisions do not need my approval or acceptance. He is going to do whatever he wants to do, but then why throughout my entire life has he actively sought my approval of his escapades? Why has he sought my alliance with his attitudes?

Working with my father has proven to be a seriously challenging experience. He has been with the company for (almost) more years than I have been alive and as such he is reaching retirement stage and his tolerance for the corporate political world has deteriorated into a state where he no longer cares what his peers, upper management, or anyone else for that matter think of the job he does. To quote him “I am trying to get on my directors shit list.”

His behavior has consequences for me. Because he no longer cares, he assumes everyone he comes into contact with doesn’t care either. He assumes that because I am his daughter that I will sympathize, empathize, and encourage his blatant disregard and disrespect. It also allows every other manager on the floor to assume that because I am his daughter that I have a similar attitude and demeanor. To make matters worse my father is actively attempting to damage my professional reputation by telling his peers (managers I also support in my daily job functions) what a horrible child I am. I’ve had most of the floors management team and staff team ask “oh, your Bob’s daughter?” and I say “yes” and they actually tell me “I’m so sorry, that must be really hard.” I actually had one such manager apologize to me yesterday for his previous treatment of me. It seems he believed everything my father had told him about me and I have now proven that very little, if any, of what my father said is true. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. He did the exact same thing to my mom when they were divorcing, but seriously, what parent seeks to intentionally sully, trash talk, and hurt their child?????????

My entire life has been shaped and constructed around my father’s latest escapade. I have been turned into his constant accomplice, his unwavering sympathizer, and ultimately, his one man marching band who tooted the horn for him with my unquestioning approval in everything he did.

When I was young his escapades were cheating on my mom, being kicked out of the house, pleading for forgiveness, being allowed to move back in, and doing it all over again. There was NO stability. I will never forget the holiday that he started doing lines of cocaine at the dining room table. The neighbors from across the street that we had over for the meal were horrified. My sister and I were sent to our bedrooms and told to stay in them. My mom and dad spent the rest of the night screaming at each other and the next day my father was kicked out yet again.

When I was 12 and living with my father he used to take me out on the weekends to “cruise” up and down Jasper Avenue in his Mustang GT. Most nights we wouldn’t get home until 3-4 am and most nights down there I would spend with people in their early – late twenties, desperate to fit in with them, I learned way to much about life way to quickly. While I did have a parent out on the “cruising street” with me, most of the time I was told not to bug him if he was talking to someone so supervision was never involved.

When I was 14 and he finally sold the Mustang GT he decided that country dancing was going to be his latest escapade. I was left to my own devices all weekend, every weekend while he went to different country bars in the city and partied. The one thing I can say about my dad is that he is not a drinker. Alcohol has never been a problem, unfortunately abandonment often was.

When I was 15 he quit country dancing and decided that everything in his world should revolve around water skiing. He bought a boat, wetsuits, ski’s, etc. and actively pursued his latest hobby every weekend that it wasn’t raining. You’d think that going to the lake with my father would’ve been a good time. Out on the water, driving the boat, learning how to water ski, eating lunch from a cooler and drinking too much caffeine, but alas, my father didn’t allow food, beverages, sun screen or anything else on his boat and he would certainly never allow me to drive it. It was an effort in frustration. He would scream and bitch at whatever unlucky friend he had randomly picked for that days outing who was driving the boat for him to water ski behind that they weren’t doing it right, he couldn’t get up out of the water with a tow like that…blah blah blah…he was miserable unless everything went his way 100% of the time no excuses, questions, or hesitations.

Then he abandoned his water skiing escapade for his motorcycle street bike. It’s one of those crotch rockets that goes like snot. ALL the man will talk about now is motorcycles. Everything in life is now compared to going “wide open” on this machine. No matter how a conversation starts it will ALWAYS wind up being about him and his motorcycle.

I could go on and on and on about everything he has done and I haven’t even gotten into talking about the mirage of seriously ridiculous relationships he has entered into with women who were at least 15 years younger than him at all times.

But, lest I continue to pound my head in vain, this is what I managed to learn yesterday.

There is something inside of me that will ALWAYS seek for his approval and attention. The only time I got attention from him as a kid was when I was in trouble. Either getting suspended from school, stealing, doing drugs…anything and everything…I fully admit that I was an asshole as a teenager. Satna helped me realize that I felt the only way to retain my father’s attention was to become a co-conspirator with him in all of his actions. I learned at a very young age what would set my father off, what would anger him, how to play on his guilt for being an inconsistent father, basically, I learned how to manipulate and I did it so he would love me.

I am ultimately in control of whether or not I continue to play the time honored game with him and I am deciding not to. I am tired of seeking replacements for him in my life with other men. I am tired of the pain and sadness he causes me. I do not wish to be involved with someone who shows me and everyone else around him little to no regard. I wouldn’t have a friend like that, and while I cannot pick my family, I am an adult now and I am in control of who I decide to associate with and form lasting healthy relationships with.

I have been racking my brain trying to remember the last time I received a birthday or Christmas gift from him that WASN’T just a card full of cash. My brain comes up with the last Christmas before him and my mom divorced, BUT my mom did the Christmas shopping for Kim & I so I cant even say that it was a gift he bought for me knowing I would like it.

He makes no effort to get to know ME or anything about my life. When my sister was in the hospital he took Lance for a walk to trash talk my step dad Lloyd. He has no sense of boundaries. No idea of common decency. He doesn’t want to be involved in anything that isn’t all about him. Ultimately, I have come to recognize that my father is selfish, and demands control of everything. He has been diagnosed with OCD and instead of trying to understand himself he blames the world around him for treating him the way it has.

I am not sure if because he was adopted at a young age and though he found his birth parents later in life (I think he was near 35 when he did find them) the reunion was not what he had envisioned. The only person that still talks to a member of his natural family is my mom. It would make sense that his issues with commitment and abandonment are wrapped up in the fact that he is an adopted child. Instead of trying to understand those issues and heal himself, when he was in therapy for it, he met the last woman my mother would tolerate. He met the woman my mom would ultimately divorce him over. He didn't go to therapy to heal, he went to get laid.

So, in the end, I choose to not continue this charade. I choose to not conspire and align myself with someone who so willfully and completely uses me. I choose not to maintain a relationship with my father because to do so would mean that I would have to accept everything he has done to me and everything he will continue to do to me. I would have to tolerate that he is never going to WANT to be a parent to me. I would have to accept that I am and always will be second place to him. Second place to his pubescent adolescent girls. Second place to his all consuming hobbies. Quite frankly, I am not able to accept those things anymore. I am no longer a little girl begging for attention. I am a grown woman who is forming her own life. I cannot give any more power to that little girl inside of me. It is time she healed. I need to just let go, and so, I am.

Who knows, maybe if I had a father that actually cared about me enough to ensure that my homework was done, that my grades were high, that my ambitions were not set below the bar, that I could accomplish anything I dreamed of doing or being…well…then maybe, just maybe, I might be a rocket scientist too.