the blog

Dad

Think about it. Here. Im gonna tell you exactly what happened, and as you watch this nearly impeccable replay, I want you to remember that I wasnt even there. I am guessing entirely, based on what happened from my end. And Im psychic. Duh.

Heather had met me what? Two handfuls of times tops. I had never been anything but kind to her and beyond your hypercritical remarks, she genuinely had no reason to think ill of me. Few do who base their perceptions on what they see verses what they’ve been told or what they’ve imagined.

Adam was more than glad to play along. She made his job easy and the worse I looked as I grew so hungry I had to fuck someone to stay alive, the easier it would be to take everything I had and the better he would appear for taking it.

CPS stepped in, maybe she called them herself, (To clarify, this was because I was hospitalized for suicidal ideation. My children were not even present, as I had already arranged for their care, evaluating myself to be temporarily incompetent and calling the cops ON MYSELF to get help. My husband had left me with absolutely no resources, for another woman, and had left the children. I was wrecked. I was not a danger to anyone, including myself, and I was not permanently incompetent. CPS had no business there.) and she probably took the lead. “We’re reporters for CPS now,” she said. And she loved being in that position of power, so she told them everything and made up even more. While I was literally starving she was planting false suspicions of drug use and emotional decay into the minds of moronic social workers who met her twenty times and met me once. (In the hospital, where I was baffled at her intrusion and refused to speak to her. Understandably. All that I was suffering and you’d do this now? How fucking dare you?)

And the bond over a shared enemy? You guys have never been as close as you were when you were disparaging me in front of the children who to this day think I abandoned them on purpose.

Dad, how could Heather have known all the things she pretended to know? She didn’t. Let me guess, she quoted a lot from her own experience and cherry picked my Facebook posts, nevermind their brilliance or their intended purpose. She stayed on top of reading them, Im sure never without a twinge of jealousy that further motivated her vigorous abuse. My bet is that you barely read three, and Adam’s reading level? It would have taken him two hours and a dictionary to get through four.


I bet on the day you heard I was doing drugs, an entire year after the divorce, you guys celebrated a bit. “We were right!” No, dumbass. You created the traumatic circumstances which predispose people to use drugs. Had  you been a father, I never would have become an addict. 

You betrayed me in truly devastating ways. But with a little remorse I’d have let it go. I thought it was possible. I hoped someday you’d magically be 50 and not still stunted at 16. I hoped you could snap the fuck out of it and grow up.

If you marry that hideous cunt, and I’m not talking about her white trash exterior, you will decay alongside her. I have kept away from you for this long because I learned not to engage with flying monkeys. Youll die her fucking minion and never be my dad again if you choose to yoke yourself to a vermin headed for the lowest pits of hell. I will not speak to you, not out of spite, but because you will be as good as dead and your rotting flesh will be poison to all who come near.

My father dies on his wedding day. Cancer. Just heard the news.
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