WARNING: The content of this blog post will be pretty heavy. I just need to get this out. Maybe you've been in a similar situation, maybe you need help with your feelings. Just putting it out there in the universe.
I made a realization yesterday. Although, it didn't take my by surprise, it still kind of struck a cord with me. I mean, who wouldn't let it effect them? I realized yesterday, my father doesn't love me. I know what you're thinking, how does this happen? If he says he loves you, he loves you. But, you would be wrong.
My father went to church and often took is when we were younger. When I was in my teens, my father stopped going to church. He didn't talk about any teachings, he never explained why he left and he didn't mention his religion to others. It faded out of memory and I can't really remember a time back then when he was religious.
My father was supportive of me in my coming out, much more than my mother in fact. While she kicked me out and we didn't speak for almost eleven years, my father was there for me. He let me stay with him and he comforted me through the entire process of trying to figure out what was going on. He said he knew, which most of my family did, so it didn't take him long to accept me because he knew it would eventually come.
I dated quite a few potential life partners in my time living with him and after I had moved out on my own. He was always supportive, asked me how things were, how we were, if we needed any help, all that fun stuff. When my second longest boyfriend and someone I was convinced I would marry broke up a few months after moving in together, my father was the first person I called. He was there within twenty minutes, even if he was almost a half hour drive away. He sped to me to help me move back in with him, helped me when I was crying my eyes out, talked to me about what happened, talked Jesse down because he thought I needed to hear it at the time (he actually talked to me later and said all the things I actually needed to hear, but it was nice he was the "best friend" for a while.)
When I started dating my now-fiance, my father was still on the more supportive scale. He often talked about how much he liked Jaret and how he could see how happy he made me, how he was sure Jaret was the one this time.
A few months after we started dating, my father was diagnosed with MS. It was heartbreaking, especially because they caught it so late, they originally thought it was bad knees from hockey. He's deteriorated quite quickly, it's only been just over a year and he went from a cane, to a walker to a scooter. The doctors say in two years, maximum, he will probably be in a wheel chair. He is currently looking for full-time care facilities. His independence was crushed, destroyed and mauled by a giant bear. He was quite down for a while.
Then he found the Church again, started going to services and really getting back into his faith. For the first time in a while, he looked happy. He looked like he found a purpose. I was so happy for him. I've never been a fan of church or religion in general, but I went to a few services with him, I even went to a Anointment of the Sick. It was weird, but I wanted to support him, he had supported me.
The thing now is, he's changed for the worse. Church usually brings out the worst in people, I know there are those that will disagree, I'm not here to have an argument of religion. My father, who once asked about everything to do with my life, turned his back on me. When I got engaged, you know what his first reaction was? "Oh. That's nice." Yep, his youngest son found someone he wanted to spend with for the rest of his life. I gave him a pass for a while, because he had been married twice and those didn't work out, plus both my mother and my step-mother (especially the latter) are bat-shit crazy. So maybe he was just worried about his track record and projecting it on me. Fine, I can handle that.
But what actually disappointed me in the long run is the fact we've been engaged for over a year, the wedding is in two months and you know how many times he asked me about how the planning is going? Once. He hasn't shown ANY interest, he just doesn't care anymore. The only thing that's changed in our lives? He's now back to church almost full time. He even volunteers a lot.
After months, I finally came to the conclusion he has stopped loving me. Now, before you try and defend him and say it's not that, I'm pretty sure I know my family better than you do, I'm pretty sure I can see the signs you can't see and I'm pretty sure I'd know best what's going on in my life. So now, now what do I do? I guess I just pretend I don't know.
I'm the reject child though. My brother has the grandkids and is married to a lovely woman. His Daughter is the all knowing, super smart and amazing woman who even though treats him like shit and never helps him out doing ANYTHING, he still talks very highly about. You know who he doesn't talk about? Me. Which is fine, I guess that's how it is.
So I guess what I'm getting at is I've decided to choose who I love back, those who love me. Sometimes blood relation means nothing. Sometimes, it's just an excuse people try and make up to shame those who don't get along with their parents.
If anyone out there needs to talk about their family dynamic or just need to vent. I'm open to talk. Shoot my a message on twitter, or just send me an email!
Peace be with you.
Some people out there say you shouldn't put a blog on your website, it looks "unprofessional". Fuck that. I'm writing all the blog posts. From happy book release information to sad stuff in my life. Welcome to my blog. Get to know my personality, not just my writing.