Dad.
You don't understand. My throat closes up, and I feel like I can't breathe. My heart races, I can't go in there, I'm having another attack, can you please go in instead. "No." You don't care, I know. I'm acting stupid.
Sir your daughter is in a bathroom stall forcing herself to throw up, can you come get her from school? Fine. "Are you stupid? You made me miss work for this? Get in the fucking car. "
13 years old , and I ask what I've done wrong to upset you and you reply, "you were born."
Screaming and arguing, constant insults and directed anger. Chokehold me against the wall some more. Please? You might as well.
I go to school with bruises on my forearm and wrists from where you previously had grip so tight that I had to kick and squirm just to get away, "what's wrong" they ask. "What happened" questions swarming me, and my mind flutters wondering, do I tell the truth or do I lie and save the man I was supposed to love. I tell the truth, a worker comes to our home and you and mom put a facade on , to make me look bad. "You should listen to your parents and this kind of thing wouldn't happen" she says. I get guilt tripped for bringing her there. "How could you. Do you know what's going to happen now!? Do you want to be taken from us " Maybe.
Daddy where are you going? You took your suitcase in hand and walked out the door without looking back. Not even once. Months pass. Mommy when is daddy coming home. "Soon" mommy where is daddy. "Away for a while" mommy I miss daddy. "He'll come back don't worry" , I gave up on asking the same way you gave up on us, to fly to California. And suddenly, you're back. Mom doesn't care, she accepts it like nothing happened. She forgave, but she didn't forget. And I? Did neither. Never would. Never , could.
See you taught me from a young age daddy, that it's okay to walk away from my mistakes and then come back to them later. Because that's what we are right? Mistakes. God knows if she hadn't have been pregnant you'd be somewhere else, enjoying life without any attachments. I'm glad for that lesson. The only difference between us is that, when I make a mistake, I don't have to come back to it. I don't leave to begin with. 8 years old, Put me on your shoulders daddy? "No" you say. "You're too big for that now" oh.
14 years old,
"Moo" you say, teasingly. "Fatso" you call out in a joking tone. Or a not, so joking tone. Am I fat, dad? Am I not skinny enough? Am I pretty? Do you think boys will like me. Laughter,and dismissal of my questions. Oh. You just didn't want to answer. But that's okay Dad, I knew the answer, and I forgive you. You're my dad, not the kids at school. You didn't mean it. I know it's my fault that I'm this way. I'll change it, one way or another. I'll puke, and purge , and starve and workout 2 hours every day.
Oh and don't forget the suffering, and the constant sadness and need to prove myself to you. Couldn't have gotten to become the woman I am today without those, right? Are you proud of who I am today? Are you proud that everytime I look at myself in the mirror, I have to fight the urge to pick out everything wrong with how I look? Are you proud that I cry myself to sleep sometimes? Are you proud that my idea of a relationship from a young age, was altered when I watched everything that happened between you and mom? Are you proud of me?
Are. you . proud.
Everyone had demons, I know. But you have a special kind. You are, a special kind of demon. You're the kind that, spits fire, at people who only try to please you. You're the kind that sits on my shoulder and screams insults and commandments, but I'm the only one who can hear it. You're the kind that's good at hiding things, hiding the big picture and instead replacing it with a small one for people to view. What would happen, if anyone were to see the hidden picture. What would happen if they found out you weren't so great or hardworking. What would happen if they found out you were a sexist, misogynistic , hateful, bully. Nobody sees that part. All they know is what you tell them. They don't know that, all you do is make everyone in your presence miserable about 98.9 percent of the time. They don't know, that you've never once, believed in me. All you've ever done is tear me down. Gave up on me. Shattered me. Will anybody ever know Daddy?.
With All the hate my heart could conjure,
Your D̶a̶u̶g̶h̶t̶e̶r̶.
