May 2022

Dear Diary,

Eight years have passed and still no word...  Wondering why it always falls on me to do the first steps after he's done wrong by me because of his alcoholism.  A previous time had lasted about 10 years until I reached out to him to talk.  Is that how parent-child relationships go on?  Well, he's my step-parent, but to me he was the only father I had.  My biological father, we ran away from when I was eleven, because he was a mentally unstable, violent, alcoholic.  Step-dad wasn't violent, per se, but it wasn't far sometimes because of his drunken states.

He may not like to hear it, but growing up with him was extremely anxiety- and stress-inducing to an extent that had serious consequences on me.  He was ruthless in his verbal attacks when he was in one of those moods.  Between him and my mother, the both of them shot my nerves and my self-confidence to hell.  And quite frankly, the two of them were so caught up in their dramas that it seemed to prevent them from noticing that their daughter wasn't home around all too much at twelve -- all the way up to when she finally left for good before her majority.  They were nowhere to be found.

But I've forgiven him, never gave him much of a hard time on how growing up with him affected me (unlike he constantly did about his own parents).  He had finally quit drinking, so I gave him a chance.  Didn't hold it against him.  I still didn't when he relapsed, which is what led us to the situation from 8 years ago now.  I only expressed concerns about his having started drinking again because he was warned by his doctor when he'd quit that if he continued to drink, it would kill him - his body couldn't take it anymore - seemed important to me as a detail to keep in mind!

I found out that he was drinking again because I was talking with his girlfriend, whom I became close to over the few years they were together.  They were in the process of breaking up, and they were both talking to me about what they were going through.  Of course, I didn't discuss with either of them what each said to me, but the alcohol bit was alarming, I had to say something about that...

But he took that as me taking sides, and ever since, he's not spoken to me.  I feel dropped like I don't matter, really.   Pouring my heart out here, I guess, 'cause he'll certainly not hear it... it's so sore to deeply love people who evidently don't feel that way about you.

There are many parts

That are highly upsetting

About what happened

For you to lash out at me

And drop me as if it was

Justified to respond like this.

The first would have to be

That you're the parent

And you should have a bit

More control over yourself,

Especially in circumstances

When you've screwed up.

The second would be your

Spurious accusation which is

Only a distraction from having

To face your embarrassment

At being found out, and your

Shame you're unable to face.

The third would be that you've

Deflected your attention on me

Making me the bad actor in

This situation you created

When all I did is be there for

Both you and the girlfriend.

The fourth would have to be how

Easy it was for you to go away

From the girl you called daughter

Under such false pretenses you

Don't want to admit to yourself.

For you to put my moral character

Into question, and be satisfied

With such excuses you know

Hold absolutely no water, is so

Disappointing, it's beyond words.

For someone who loves me, you're

So quick to crucify me for nothing.

The fifth, how you're acting like

I did something unacceptable when

I did no such thing, be honest about it.

It's you who went off the deep end,

So of course we would find out.

Yet you didn't hesitate to make me

The bad one in your drama anyway.

And it evidently justified it in your

Head that it's ok to leave me behind.

It's incredible to me how it's always the

Closest and dearest who want to hurt me,

Even though it's never my nature to them.

The final one, how you've hurt me for years,  

And acknowledging it, you struggle with. 

I was there for you, but you made it into

A story of betrayal to satisfy this desperate

Need of yours for avoidance.  It's not me. 

It's you.  And the worst part is, you know it.