Wednesday, November 19, 2014

23 1/2 years

I feel like I absolutely need to get this off my chest, one way or another, or I'll combust into a million pieces of confusion. To start off, I've been estranged from my sperm donor of a father and his family for over 7 years. And in those seven years, I've struggled, with a lot. Part of it was just life, and growing up, but most of it was coming to terms with what a father meant to me, why I didn't have one, and trying to understand his extremely perturbed and demented mind. 

The hardest part was wrapping my head around the idea you could just leave your child behind, in the dark, not knowing if they were happy, or homeless, or even dead. How you just carry on life as if your "donation" you made had no long-term repercussions or effects. And then, how you could do it two more times, to two more beautiful baby girls, with nothing but love and affection in their hearts; just wanting a mother and a father to feed them and bathe them, take them to school and tell them everything is going to be alright. How you walk around living your life like you are a good person, when all you do is go around literally ruining peoples lives, not just one, not just two, not just three, but everyone around. When you decided it would be a great idea to cheat on your wife dying of cancer, you completely lost all of what makes you a human being. When you decided you were blocking me on Facebook for telling her you were cheating and never talking to me again, that's when you lost your left-overs of a heart. Your path of pure destruction, your undeniable and disgusting selfishness, your lack of any notion you have any humanity left inside of you. You are loveless, you have no idea what the concept even is, you are alone and forever lost. You must be empty inside, you must be hollow from your pulmonary artery to your soul...if you have one. Laugh now while you can still keep your misery and guilt buried.  

Yes, there might still be hate. But I've turned the hate I had for him doing that to me, to hating him more to doing it to my two sisters, my life and blood, My baby girls, and leaving me to pick up your mess. My sweet darling baby girls, whom, thanks to you I couldn't have a relationship with. I literally had to track down court records to find one of my sisters mothers last name, to find her, to tell her I love her and I haven't ever let her go. And my other sister, I'll never know, her mother hated me and will do everything in her power to keep me away from her. Her hatred coming from when I was 13, hatred of a child just trying to do her best to keep alive. 

The donor was so awesome, he didn't pay a single dime to my mother for the first 15 years of my life. So when she went to court to get the back child support, the back medical bills, the back "thanks for taking care of my child I wanted nothing to do with"; I was given an ultimatum, tell my mother to cancel the law suit, or never speak to donors side of the family again. I was 15, may I remind you at the time, still a young with no such power to demand that from my mother, nor would that have been the right thing to do. They told me my mother was just being greedy, and "how can she do that to your father after being so good to you and trying his best. She tried to keep you away from him" they said, "She wouldn't let us see you, and that’s why he was never around, he tried to be a good father, and he did his best". Let's just call bs on this one, and I think we won the whole dam game. That bloody bastard needed to pay my mother every last dam cent he owed her, and so I made my choice. 

It's been over seven years, a long and trying seven years, to get to a place in my life where I know I have worth, I know that I should be loved, and I know how I should be loved. Where I can love back, with my entire heart and soul, and not be afraid I'm dating my image of my father. I've come a million miles from who I was, and where I was. I'm okay with never hearing his name again, I'm okay with him never knowing if I'm happy, or homeless, or alive. And I'm okay never knowing the same about him, and that goes for his enabling family as well. 

So don't call me when you are in the hospital just to hear from me 7 years later, as your last ditch effort not to enter the gates of hell. I won't call you when I'm on my death bed, I won’t call you when I get married, I won’t call you to come see your grandchildren, I won't call you at all. I'll let you leave every awful, abusive, and disgusting thing you did, in the past, where it belongs. That door is far closed, and it had to be, to actually live a life. You do the same for me, if you could ever do anything for me at all. 

This isn't about forgiveness, there is nothing to forgive. What happened in the past is what happened. I was a child at the time, and I've had to live with your choices...and now you do too.