Writings of Expression

Hey Dad, I'm Sorry...

I'm sorry for never able to say this to your face. You have lectured me and pestered me to care, but because of what's happened to me, I can't... You see, I was too perceptive for my own good as a child. Even when I was four, I could see that our family would break if nothing changed. You may think this is a lie created by looking back, but I have always known. See, I could tell that Mom was someone who worried even when she didn't need to. You on the other hand, never faced anything unless it was to challenge criticism to who you are and how you behave. I could already see the cracks forming and saw how the family would collapse. Do you know how scary that is to a child? To see how things will likely go? I wanted to speak up so many times and ask to be held as I spilled all that I had seen, but I was never held long enough to feel brave. Had I known that not speaking up would result in our family being as broken as it is while still seeming whole, I would have forced myself to speak up.
It's been so long since I started bling myself that I can't stop it now. You wanna know why I don't eat with the family? Why I always leave the house every chance I get? It's because I blame myself for not speaking up and trying to help the family heal before we broke. I sit in my room feeling alone and scared, starving myself for failing to protect a family that I could have helped. Maybe I should stop, but I can't bring myself to eat much without feeling guilty... I can't sleep at night because I keep going through how our family could be different if I hadn't been so scared as a child. I wish I was lying, but I'm not... Honestly, when I was five, I already saw six ways that our family could be spared the pain and disharmony that we have. Truthfully, I spot at least one more way we could have avoided what we've become each year.
What do you think we could have been? What I see is a family that is far more open with each other about things, never hiding ourselves. A family in which I know I belong instead of guessing each day. Do you want to know how broken I feel? Each time I have a chance of being loved, I screw it up because I don't feel good enough. Without fail, I pull people close to feel useful and needed, only to push them away when I see the signs that you are gonna drag me somewhere else. I wish I could say that I felt at peace when I return home, but all I feel is ashamed because I failed . I failed at being a child, being happy, and learning to love those I am supposed to love. You ask me why my friends are more of a family, when I see them that way because they are family in my eyes. You tell me to make money to help ease the family's finances, but I don't feel I belong here most days. I'm so broken that even as a child I molded myself to become a freak beyond what I was. I became more attuned with my senses, then had to cloud them because I became too sensitive to stimuli. I let go off a set mindset and chose to be fluid in mind and thought. I wanted to be like you as a child but punished myself for it as I grew up because you weren't worthy of that honor.
If you want to know why that is, Father, then please keep reading. Mom always worried about the house, bills, and being "good enough". Whenever you were at home, I recall only that you would sit and play games. You never seemed to care, not in a way that I could see as a child. The only one who seemed to care was the mother that I saw breaking herself to be what you wanted and what she wanted. She is the one who taught me how to cook, how to clean, and how to live. While she did that, you only occasionally helped out with something you should have always been a part of. Yes, you taught us how to wash dishes and do laundry, but that was all you did! Every day I relive the past as I lay on a bed that feels like a stranger's. I eat little enough I should be died, but I still live because I'm too stubborn and don't think death is punishment enough. I'm the sinner who let his family break in my mind, no matter what you say. I am the broken one who flees to try and find a place to restart. I am the one unworthy of living, not you. I want us to have a relationship, but it feels impossible most days because you refuse to change. You say you change, that you don't lie because you hate it. Yet each day, you say you love your family while playing games and ignoring us while you are off work. You push us to do better and help out around the house, but you never do. Every time I try to show you what you are doing to the family, you lash out and accuse me of lying to you. Well, I'm tired of it, so I don't care if you think this is a lie. Would I really be pouring out my heart like this if I was truly lying to you? Would I still be coming home where you live if I really hated you that much? All I have ever wanted was a father who was willing to drip everything at the drop of a hat to hold me and tell me everything would be fine. A father willing to follow his dreams to the end no matter what stood in his way. Ask yourself this, have you EVER done that? The answer should be no. When you were home, games were too important to stop for your kids. When you were at work, you never stopped to check if we called when Mom was home. Because of that, I have had to mold myself into the person that I wanted to be my father. Since you failed me and my siblings out of fear of not being good enough, I have had to step up and find other sources to turn to. When you and I moved out here with my brother, I took care of him and you. I stayed awake late into the night to make sure you went to work safely and on time. I cooked food for myself and my brother right after getting home, even when I just wanted to crash or sob myself to sleep. In those six months before Mom and my sister moved to join us, I was more of father than I had ever seen you be. I gave up time to make friends to make sure the house was taken care of and that my brother was fed. Yet when Mom and Sis moved here, we just went back to how things were before. I fought it for a couple months, but gave up since everyone seemed fine with it. That's why my room became a mess and stayed that way. I've given caring to try and change this family. I'm too tired from fighting for change to care anymore about my health. Eating, sleeping, and hygiene have just become things I do because that's what I need to live and make money to move away. Yet you seem to think that I wouldn't make it out in the world because you never got to know me. You knew me as a toddler, but that version of me is long gone. Why can't you bring yourself to see me for who I am now? Are you that scared to see what reality is actually like?
Dad, I'm sorry that I never let you know this in person. Maybe some day you'll read this and see what I have become. I just pray it happens in time for us to reconcile and grow closer. Perhaps you'll die before then, and I'll be sad if you do. Because I really wanna be able to smile and say, "I missed you, Dad." even if it is just one last time.