My Journey

"Uncle"

The man I speak of in this chapter is in no way, shape, or form, related to Me, my Mom, or Dad. This man was at first just the son of the woman my Mom took care of because she could take my sister and brother with her. (I wasn't yet born or conceived) I am not sure how that turned from caretaker and "boss" to lover, I also don't know when it ended between them being "together" and when my Dad came into the picture. There was suspicion that I belonged to him but they did a DNA test and it was determined who my Dad is. This man is... I'm not entirely sure how to finish this. To begin he was cheating on his wife and kids, that's right, he was married while sleeping with my Mom. And yeah my Mom knew about it, my Mom ran to him a lot. When things went wrong, when she needed money or a place to live, we moved in with him, his kids hated him for it, eventually, he and his wife got separated but not divorced because he didn't want to spend the money on a lawyer.

There were many times we moved in with him, or he would put us in a house that he said he'd get fixed up for us. But in the end, the conditions would be so bad like no hot water, no running water, no heat, or no usable kitchen that we would have to leave again because he couldn't come through for us. Or he would change his mind and kick us out or more often than not he and my mom would get in a big fight and she'd flee with us in toe. One house specifically, I remember it being a decent size house, My Sister, Brother #4, My Mom, and I all had our own rooms if they ever got it fixed it would have been perfect. But he was quite the cheapskate, so we lived through winter there, after getting kicked out of our apartment for having a dog. We had no heat, no hot water, and at some point while living there a burst pipe in the dining room(?) I don't remember everything perfectly as I was about 9 or 10 at that time.

It was however around that time that I started reading fanfiction mostly on fanfiction.net and occasionally Wattpad but I didn't make an actual account till a few years later. After that, I began to enjoy recreational reading and it became different worlds for me to jump into to ignore the issues going on downstairs. I used to be really bad at reading and didn't like to because of that but certain things helped with that, like having subtitles and turning down the volume while watching movies. Finding things that I actually enjoyed reading like fanfiction and certain fictional genres, I found out that when I'm reading for myself is a lot better than reading for school, the bible for my mom, or the Sunday school I went to each week.

Back to the person at hand, my relationship with "Uncle" is complicated, to say the least, as a child ignorant to all except to the mood of the room, as a young adult knowing most things that happened I must say I am very close to hating him. It's not generally in my nature to hate people, but I resent this man and I resent my mom for keeping this man around for longer than I've been alive. Especially with the abuse, she said he has done to her while we were growing up. She told me that at one point that she got pregnant after me by him, and he and his wife harassed her to the point of a miscarriage. She said she was also on birth control when the child was conceived, I think she said she had an implant but that doesn't make much sense for her to have that. It makes more sense for the pill where I'd assume she missed a day or was late and she got pregnant by it. With the things, she told me about him she kind of gives me the impression she has Stockholm syndrome, I can't think of any other reason she would repeatedly run back to him if he hurt her so badly and caused her such severe mental distress.

As a child, I don't remember him abusing her but I tend to block out unhappy memories. As a child "Uncle" was my best friend, one of my favorite adults, and one of the only men I blindly trusted. I didn't even trust my dad in the ways that trusted him, in fact, I could look back and tell you that he probably was my father during my younger years. He was there when I learned how to cook, he was the person I cried for at night to tell me stories, I followed him around and wore his shoes, and did the things a kid should do with their actual father but that wasn't the case for me. As a young adult, I look back on this and cry for his family because I feel guilty for taking their dad. It's one thing to not want to be married and live apart from his (now) ex-wife, but to care for and devote so much time to a whole different family, is just- I don't think I even have the words in my vocabulary.

Throughout his adult life, he took horrible care of himself. He's a type 2 diabetic and had been addicted to carbs, sugar, and alcohol for most of his life. A good bit of the big arguments he and my mom would have was because of him not taking care of himself, some of the scariest memories I have are him having a ridiculously high blood sugar and almost slipping into diabetic ketoacidosis AKA a sugar-induced coma. Or seeing him after a seizure in the hospital, and crying as soon as I saw him. The things he's done to himself are horrible, he is 68 years old now and in a nursing home because he has dementia. His kids won't take care of him and use him for his money, they didn't realize that was losing it. For his actions, while they were growing up, he is hated by them. And I really can't blame them for it.