Walking away.

If any of you remember, I wrote about the pain of living with a rape. (here) Well, there’s something else that’s been an ongoing saga. (Besides the car.) My father has been going through a divorce since the middle of September. Once the papers were filed I sent a message plainly saying my feelings of the whole situation and to get closure. I was blunt, honest, and non threatening. It started with a request of ‘please take my name off your family list, you’re not my family.’ too this is my closure please respect this, I’m tired of broken promises and goodbye.

The reply I got back, while I could copy and paste it, isn’t worth polluting my blog any more than this simple bullet list of her reply.

  • She called my mother a whore.
  • She said I was a druggie and worthless
  • She said she hoped I would some how get aids and tie.
  • She said that Dad was a liar
  • She said that my little sister S was useless and couldn’t hack it on her own.

This upset me but true to my word I didn’t reply I put it to bed…. Until I dropped off my car to Dad’s to park and he was very upset because of something I said to her in a message. He demanded I apologize and yelled to the point where I was in tears. I said I would not apologize for getting closure and moving on with my life. That I would not talk to her. At this point I hadn’t even read the reply, I knew I’d gotten one and ignored it. That day I read it and fowarded it to Dad. My simple reply was ‘Are you going to get this upset with her too?’.

He apologized and we were on thin ice yes, but we were mending. Slowly mending. I saw my former step brother in a bar, and my friend B and I flipped when we thought he was trying to talk to me. He left the bar because we being females and him being a male and an ex Marine … well the bar tender said that he better leave.

I was enraged. I still have rage inside me for everything my ex step mother said and did to me and my sister in the course of their relationship. Today I went to do laundry and Dad told me that she was coming up to the house and they were talking. I started to chew my lip and was silent. He asked if I was pissed and I replied, “How could you care so little for your children’s feelings?” and tried to explain to him that because of the rape and what she said, it caused major issues, flash backs nightmares and even a few suicidal thoughts. I wanted at this point to die because it was so close to the heart break of leaving Michigan, and then that… it was too much. I thought of ways to do it, only I never did. I talked with my mother etc.

So today when I stand up for myself Dad starts freaking out about what Mom did EIGHT YEARS AGO. I said that no, he couldn’t do that not to me, because I begged both of my parents to NOT bad mouth each other in front of me. My anxiety just can’t take it and my mother has always respected this. Dad however, not so much.

He hung up on me and knocked on the door, yelled at Jet that he’s taking me off the life insurance policy and that what I wrote to my ex step mother was cruel and I had no room to talk. Telling someone flat out that I know they were fucking my father while he was still married to my mother does not equal I hope you die of AIDS. He gave me the money from my car that I requested to get by and do my laundry and that’s what I spent my night doing. Laundry.

He messaged me on facebook with can we talk. I asked him what I had to do to matter to him and what I had to prove… then I drew the line in the sand that its her or me. I haven’t heard from him since. 🙁 I guess I wasn’t important enough, our relationship has always been a rocky one, and I guess that this was the final straw.

I think what hurts me the most is that my children won’t know him, that if I ever get married he won’t be there to walk me down the isle. That my former step sister’s bastard child could know him as a grandfather but because of this entire mess mine won’t. That he’s defending her when she’s emotionally beaten me and my little sister to shreds.

The sad part is I have enough rage inside me to want to punch her and keep punching until I physically can’t. For all the hurt, for every thing she’s done, for all the anger and pain. I’m exhausted from crying.

The only good part of today was that the boy said he wished he could help, which was sweet in itself, but I told him that him holding me would be more than enough. I have a feeling that if his truck was working he would have been on his way to get me. Or at least cuddle for awhile.

The real bitch? I have 10 days until my birthday.

I don’t have a choice but to walk away, to keep my heart and mind safe. From never having to wonder why I wasn’t good enough. Or why this happened… I’m just putting it to bed and hoping for the best.

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