Questions
2200hrs: It's pass my bedtime but I've got something I need to get off my chest first. I've been getting a lot of flak(sorry just can't get away from aircraft terms...hmm flak reminds me of someone) from my Aunts about the way I treat my Dad. I don't deny I hate my Dad cause I really do. It's cause of him that my relatives think my family is a failure. And I can feel my Uncles are hanging on to the edge of their seats waiting to see if I'll turn out like my useless brother. The really hypocritic thing about my Uncles is that when my Mum left me and my siblings to our own devices when I was 5, none of my Uncles chipped in to help. Only my Aunts took us in, took care of us and made sure we didn't go astray.
My Dad being the 'teenager' that he thinks he is, couldn't care less about us. He continued in his drinking, gambling and womanizing ways. There's so many reasons for me to hate my Dad I don't even know where to start. After so many years of analyzing my shattered family's situation, here's what I got. My family started not because Mum met Dad and they fell for eachother.
NOooooo...reason why they got married was cause Dad knocked Mum up. Simple as that. I mean how does one feel about being conceived by accident? Through the wisdom of my Grandma, Dad was forced to marry Mum because 'it was the right thing to do'. Even though my religion is against abortion, I would've rather they aborted my eldest brother. Then they wouldn't have to get married and my Dad wouldn't destroy so many lives all at once. Even after marriage my Dad never took responsibility for the family. He continued in his decadent(i.e. gambling heavily, smoking, drinking & whoring) ways as if he were single. And I've heard from my Aunts about how he used to go whoring and coming back with pictures of him with a whore in bed and he would show it to my Mum. I mean cheating on your wife is bad enough but to come back with pictures and showing them proudly to your wife???!!! As you can see my family was never founded on love. No, that's not all he did. When my bro was in Sec 3(15 years old) devoid from the attention one would get from loving, caring parents, he got into bad company. He did some hell-raising but academically he was average doing fine in most of his subjects. One day the principal called home because my bro was caught stealing bicycles in school and he wanted to 'talk' to any one of the parents. Unfortunately my Dad answered the call because no one was home and he took it upon himself to make a trip to go 'talk' to the principal. A normal parent would try more than anything else to give their children a proper education hoping that he/she would succeed in life. But no, my Dad had other ideas twisted ones if you will. He came home from the principal's office proudly announced to the household(more to my brother) that he just did his own son a favour by getting him kicked out of school. My brother upon hearing the news broke down completely while my Dad sarcastically told my bro he need not attend school anymore. So my bro was taken out of school at 15 without even an 'O' Level cert. I wouldn't be surprised that if he had sat for his exams, he'd do better than me. But I guess he lost all hope after hearing what my Dad did and he never spoke to my Dad for quite a few years after that. And he never recovered from what my Dad did. He just went downhill after that and he's still going downhill. He's 31 now and he's still job hopping with no stable career or income. And everyone in my extended family thinks he's a useless bum and that I'll be following in his footsteps soon. Man, sometimes I get so touched by all this confidence my Uncles bestow on me. My sis never had it easy too. She was doing quite well in her lower sec but at some point in time after the realisation about what kinda family she was born into, she lost hope. I've spent countless nights analyzing this whole situation about my family and I've realised. That at some point in time, my bro, sis and I all went through the same phase and asked ourselves the same questions I'm still asking now. Why? Why is it that our family is so different? Why is it that our friend's families all seem so perfect whiles ours is so FUBAR(Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition). I know I've been running that question through my head more than a million times now. I go to my buddy's house and I see his Dad playing with his baby brother and I feel sad and envious. Why couldn't I be blessed with a proper family like that to grow up in? My friend's Dad isn't some executive he's just a simple man who's worked hard to bring bread home to his family. And my friend's Mum takes good care of everyone while his Dad's gone but at night they'll all spend quality time together. And I've witnessed these occasions quite a few times when I went over to study and it made me feel warm but at the same time so depressed. The sadness I felt was too much for a 16 year old to take. I've never asked for much I just wanted a proper household to grow up in with parent's that gave a hoot about their own children. But no, my siblings and I were left to our own devices at a young age. But I was the lucky one while my bro and sis lived in the family house, I was taken away to live with my two Aunts. Because I was still very young at the time when my Mum left and obviously my Dad couldn't be bothered to take care of us. He probably wasn't even bothered that my Mum left if he even noticed at all.
My childhood was a confusing time for me because at the time I didn't understand what was going on. I lived without my Mum till I was 8. But I still remember clearly how my Mum and Dad fought on the first day of school. I was entering Montfort Junior in 1991 at age of 7 into Primary 1(duh!). On the first day my Mum,Dad and Aunts were there. And even though my Mum had by then left the household for quite awhile already, I was still happy to see her. And she even brought my favourite(at the time) Filet-O-Fish for me. I was happily munching on my burger when my Dad took the burger from my hands and threw it into the bushes and gave me something else instead. And well things got ugly from there. They started quarreling and hurling parts of my Happy Meal at each other with all the other parents watching this real life drama develop in front of their eyes while I just hid behind my Aunts scared and not knowing what was going on. I remember one of my Aunts tried to stop them and got my Happy Meal milk on herself. But later when I was back in class I remember the kid sitting next to me asked me why my parents were fighting. I can’t remember what my answer was but I think it was something along the lines of ‘I don’t know’. But I think I cried about it when I got home. I also recall often going to the Subordinate Courts even though I didn’t care much about going there but I was still happy to go. Cause someone would always buy me a nice toy on the way home so the boredom was very much worth it to a 7 year old kid. When I was 8 my Aunts had to pass me on to a babysitter because they were working long hours and taking care of my sick Grandma and they didn’t have time for me. So I was sent to what they thought was a very good babysitter. It was alright for the first 3 days and then it turned into one of the worst times of my life. I admit that I wasn’t an easy kid to have around but I was imprisoned Mondays to Fridays and I only saw my Aunts on weekends. My babysitter & her family was probably the meanest people I’ll ever remember. They made me feel like an outsider and I was always locked up in the room. Not allowed to move around the house at will. I remember when I got home from school in the afternoons, I’ll be sent to my room and was made to stay there till dinner time after which I’ll stay till bed time. It felt like a prison!!! I was devoid of any cartoons or friends. And to make it worse her teenage son(who’s a bloody ugly gargoyle of a person anyway) used to bully me. He would shout at me for no reason basically venting whatever frustrations he had on me. I remember many nights in that place looking out the window after bedtime with the lights off listening to my Godmother’s dogs barking away 10 floors below. And it was those nights that I spent alone wondering where my parents were. I’d always be so happy when the weekends came and I’d get to see my Aunts again and I’d dread Sunday evenings when I’d be sent back to that hellhole. I remember whenever my Aunt walked me to the last flight of stairs leading to the house I’ll start crying, begging her not to bring me back to that place. It was so bad that it still makes me sad when I think about it. I hated that place but after awhile at some point during my 8th year I was taken out of that hellhole and went off to live with my Mum for awhile until I was 9 or 10 which I moved back to my Aunts place because my Aunts felt that my Mum wasn’t doing a good job caring for me. And I’ve been with my Aunts ever since.
So it’s little wonder that I can go for months without seeing any of my parents. Whereas when I was very little, I was known to call out “Mummy” in my dreams after my Mum left the household. And because my babysitter’s voice sounded so much like my Mum, I’d run down the stairs thinking that it was my Mum coming to save me whenever my babysitter called out to me. How naïve an 8 year old can be. His face lighting up at the sound of his Mum’s voice only to be greeted by the satanic babysitter. I feel so much closer to my Aunts than I do to my own parents and I care so much more about my Aunts than I do my parents. And I’d avoid my Dad whenever I can but recently he’s been complaining to everyone about how disrespectful I’ve been to him. He complained about how I avoid him on the street when I see him or how I never call him Dad anymore. I guess I just felt that he wasn’t fit to be a father because he’s still not acting like one. And I’m ashamed of him, ashamed of telling any of my friends that that’s the person who gave me life. I’m ashamed of telling anyone what kinda family I come from. And perhaps that’s why I feel so different from my friends. Along with this severe inferiority complex I’ve developed over the years. Sometimes I’m caught up in thoughts about whether I was planned at all and if I was an accident. I do remember my Aunt telling me my Dad saying that I wasn’t his child when he found out my Mum was pregnant with me. Many a times I’ve wished I was never born at all wishing that I was aborted or lost due to a miscarriage. It would’ve been better not to be born at all if I knew it’d be like this.
It sometimes bothers me that I can be so cold and ruthless. I have no love for my own Mum and Dad or bro or sis for that matter. After living so long away from immediate family members, I don’t even remember being in a family anyway. Perhaps it is my family that has made me the person I am today. One who’s so unemotional or sympathetic to others. Even this whole Tsunami wave thing doesn’t bother me the least bit. First thing that comes to mind is ‘it’s just too bad for those who got killed, well shit happens’. I feel so numb inside as if I was carved from stone and not a being of flesh and blood. Maybe that’s why I feel so different among my friends. Because I never had the luxury of parents. But I did have my Aunts who provided me the best they could but still I feel something’s missing.
Now I’m caught up in this situation. My Dad paid for my birthday cake and all of sudden that’s supposed to make up for all the pain he’s caused me. Yes he gives me money now and then but I always feel like I get whatever’s left over from his gambling, drinking & smoking. Giving me money doesn’t make a difference to me. In the end you can’t buy emotions. I can’t imagine ever forgiving him for the things he’s done. I can’t even conceive of it! It was so hard to say ‘thank you’ to him when he called to tell me he paid for the cake and he left $50 with my Aunt for me. Does it make me a bastard to be like that? I don’t know, I really don’t know. God never offered the answers to my questions. Nor did he ever answer my prayers about my family. It’s as if when he came across my family, he turned the other way. I do wonder often if God even exists at all. He’s starting to sound like a fabled creature to me, like the unicorn. Everyone believes it exists but no one’s ever seen one(the unicorn I mean). Thus my cynicism on everything life throws at me. And I read recently in an article that cynical males die young. But I’ve never wanted to live long anyway. The past 20 years just seemed so hard on me. I just want to live fast, die young. It doesn’t matter if tomorrow never comes but I do wonder what happens if I do get snuffed out tomorrow. Will he punish me severely for the blasphemy I speak of? Doubting him and having so little faith. I’m still confused I’m 21 now and I’m still stuck with the same problems as when I was 15. It seems like a horribly sick cycle of my life repeating over and over again and I’m always left searching but in the end I’ve only found emptiness.
Still conflicted at 0000hrs
My Dad being the 'teenager' that he thinks he is, couldn't care less about us. He continued in his drinking, gambling and womanizing ways. There's so many reasons for me to hate my Dad I don't even know where to start. After so many years of analyzing my shattered family's situation, here's what I got. My family started not because Mum met Dad and they fell for eachother.
NOooooo...reason why they got married was cause Dad knocked Mum up. Simple as that. I mean how does one feel about being conceived by accident? Through the wisdom of my Grandma, Dad was forced to marry Mum because 'it was the right thing to do'. Even though my religion is against abortion, I would've rather they aborted my eldest brother. Then they wouldn't have to get married and my Dad wouldn't destroy so many lives all at once. Even after marriage my Dad never took responsibility for the family. He continued in his decadent(i.e. gambling heavily, smoking, drinking & whoring) ways as if he were single. And I've heard from my Aunts about how he used to go whoring and coming back with pictures of him with a whore in bed and he would show it to my Mum. I mean cheating on your wife is bad enough but to come back with pictures and showing them proudly to your wife???!!! As you can see my family was never founded on love. No, that's not all he did. When my bro was in Sec 3(15 years old) devoid from the attention one would get from loving, caring parents, he got into bad company. He did some hell-raising but academically he was average doing fine in most of his subjects. One day the principal called home because my bro was caught stealing bicycles in school and he wanted to 'talk' to any one of the parents. Unfortunately my Dad answered the call because no one was home and he took it upon himself to make a trip to go 'talk' to the principal. A normal parent would try more than anything else to give their children a proper education hoping that he/she would succeed in life. But no, my Dad had other ideas twisted ones if you will. He came home from the principal's office proudly announced to the household(more to my brother) that he just did his own son a favour by getting him kicked out of school. My brother upon hearing the news broke down completely while my Dad sarcastically told my bro he need not attend school anymore. So my bro was taken out of school at 15 without even an 'O' Level cert. I wouldn't be surprised that if he had sat for his exams, he'd do better than me. But I guess he lost all hope after hearing what my Dad did and he never spoke to my Dad for quite a few years after that. And he never recovered from what my Dad did. He just went downhill after that and he's still going downhill. He's 31 now and he's still job hopping with no stable career or income. And everyone in my extended family thinks he's a useless bum and that I'll be following in his footsteps soon. Man, sometimes I get so touched by all this confidence my Uncles bestow on me. My sis never had it easy too. She was doing quite well in her lower sec but at some point in time after the realisation about what kinda family she was born into, she lost hope. I've spent countless nights analyzing this whole situation about my family and I've realised. That at some point in time, my bro, sis and I all went through the same phase and asked ourselves the same questions I'm still asking now. Why? Why is it that our family is so different? Why is it that our friend's families all seem so perfect whiles ours is so FUBAR(Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition). I know I've been running that question through my head more than a million times now. I go to my buddy's house and I see his Dad playing with his baby brother and I feel sad and envious. Why couldn't I be blessed with a proper family like that to grow up in? My friend's Dad isn't some executive he's just a simple man who's worked hard to bring bread home to his family. And my friend's Mum takes good care of everyone while his Dad's gone but at night they'll all spend quality time together. And I've witnessed these occasions quite a few times when I went over to study and it made me feel warm but at the same time so depressed. The sadness I felt was too much for a 16 year old to take. I've never asked for much I just wanted a proper household to grow up in with parent's that gave a hoot about their own children. But no, my siblings and I were left to our own devices at a young age. But I was the lucky one while my bro and sis lived in the family house, I was taken away to live with my two Aunts. Because I was still very young at the time when my Mum left and obviously my Dad couldn't be bothered to take care of us. He probably wasn't even bothered that my Mum left if he even noticed at all.
My childhood was a confusing time for me because at the time I didn't understand what was going on. I lived without my Mum till I was 8. But I still remember clearly how my Mum and Dad fought on the first day of school. I was entering Montfort Junior in 1991 at age of 7 into Primary 1(duh!). On the first day my Mum,Dad and Aunts were there. And even though my Mum had by then left the household for quite awhile already, I was still happy to see her. And she even brought my favourite(at the time) Filet-O-Fish for me. I was happily munching on my burger when my Dad took the burger from my hands and threw it into the bushes and gave me something else instead. And well things got ugly from there. They started quarreling and hurling parts of my Happy Meal at each other with all the other parents watching this real life drama develop in front of their eyes while I just hid behind my Aunts scared and not knowing what was going on. I remember one of my Aunts tried to stop them and got my Happy Meal milk on herself. But later when I was back in class I remember the kid sitting next to me asked me why my parents were fighting. I can’t remember what my answer was but I think it was something along the lines of ‘I don’t know’. But I think I cried about it when I got home. I also recall often going to the Subordinate Courts even though I didn’t care much about going there but I was still happy to go. Cause someone would always buy me a nice toy on the way home so the boredom was very much worth it to a 7 year old kid. When I was 8 my Aunts had to pass me on to a babysitter because they were working long hours and taking care of my sick Grandma and they didn’t have time for me. So I was sent to what they thought was a very good babysitter. It was alright for the first 3 days and then it turned into one of the worst times of my life. I admit that I wasn’t an easy kid to have around but I was imprisoned Mondays to Fridays and I only saw my Aunts on weekends. My babysitter & her family was probably the meanest people I’ll ever remember. They made me feel like an outsider and I was always locked up in the room. Not allowed to move around the house at will. I remember when I got home from school in the afternoons, I’ll be sent to my room and was made to stay there till dinner time after which I’ll stay till bed time. It felt like a prison!!! I was devoid of any cartoons or friends. And to make it worse her teenage son(who’s a bloody ugly gargoyle of a person anyway) used to bully me. He would shout at me for no reason basically venting whatever frustrations he had on me. I remember many nights in that place looking out the window after bedtime with the lights off listening to my Godmother’s dogs barking away 10 floors below. And it was those nights that I spent alone wondering where my parents were. I’d always be so happy when the weekends came and I’d get to see my Aunts again and I’d dread Sunday evenings when I’d be sent back to that hellhole. I remember whenever my Aunt walked me to the last flight of stairs leading to the house I’ll start crying, begging her not to bring me back to that place. It was so bad that it still makes me sad when I think about it. I hated that place but after awhile at some point during my 8th year I was taken out of that hellhole and went off to live with my Mum for awhile until I was 9 or 10 which I moved back to my Aunts place because my Aunts felt that my Mum wasn’t doing a good job caring for me. And I’ve been with my Aunts ever since.
So it’s little wonder that I can go for months without seeing any of my parents. Whereas when I was very little, I was known to call out “Mummy” in my dreams after my Mum left the household. And because my babysitter’s voice sounded so much like my Mum, I’d run down the stairs thinking that it was my Mum coming to save me whenever my babysitter called out to me. How naïve an 8 year old can be. His face lighting up at the sound of his Mum’s voice only to be greeted by the satanic babysitter. I feel so much closer to my Aunts than I do to my own parents and I care so much more about my Aunts than I do my parents. And I’d avoid my Dad whenever I can but recently he’s been complaining to everyone about how disrespectful I’ve been to him. He complained about how I avoid him on the street when I see him or how I never call him Dad anymore. I guess I just felt that he wasn’t fit to be a father because he’s still not acting like one. And I’m ashamed of him, ashamed of telling any of my friends that that’s the person who gave me life. I’m ashamed of telling anyone what kinda family I come from. And perhaps that’s why I feel so different from my friends. Along with this severe inferiority complex I’ve developed over the years. Sometimes I’m caught up in thoughts about whether I was planned at all and if I was an accident. I do remember my Aunt telling me my Dad saying that I wasn’t his child when he found out my Mum was pregnant with me. Many a times I’ve wished I was never born at all wishing that I was aborted or lost due to a miscarriage. It would’ve been better not to be born at all if I knew it’d be like this.
It sometimes bothers me that I can be so cold and ruthless. I have no love for my own Mum and Dad or bro or sis for that matter. After living so long away from immediate family members, I don’t even remember being in a family anyway. Perhaps it is my family that has made me the person I am today. One who’s so unemotional or sympathetic to others. Even this whole Tsunami wave thing doesn’t bother me the least bit. First thing that comes to mind is ‘it’s just too bad for those who got killed, well shit happens’. I feel so numb inside as if I was carved from stone and not a being of flesh and blood. Maybe that’s why I feel so different among my friends. Because I never had the luxury of parents. But I did have my Aunts who provided me the best they could but still I feel something’s missing.
Now I’m caught up in this situation. My Dad paid for my birthday cake and all of sudden that’s supposed to make up for all the pain he’s caused me. Yes he gives me money now and then but I always feel like I get whatever’s left over from his gambling, drinking & smoking. Giving me money doesn’t make a difference to me. In the end you can’t buy emotions. I can’t imagine ever forgiving him for the things he’s done. I can’t even conceive of it! It was so hard to say ‘thank you’ to him when he called to tell me he paid for the cake and he left $50 with my Aunt for me. Does it make me a bastard to be like that? I don’t know, I really don’t know. God never offered the answers to my questions. Nor did he ever answer my prayers about my family. It’s as if when he came across my family, he turned the other way. I do wonder often if God even exists at all. He’s starting to sound like a fabled creature to me, like the unicorn. Everyone believes it exists but no one’s ever seen one(the unicorn I mean). Thus my cynicism on everything life throws at me. And I read recently in an article that cynical males die young. But I’ve never wanted to live long anyway. The past 20 years just seemed so hard on me. I just want to live fast, die young. It doesn’t matter if tomorrow never comes but I do wonder what happens if I do get snuffed out tomorrow. Will he punish me severely for the blasphemy I speak of? Doubting him and having so little faith. I’m still confused I’m 21 now and I’m still stuck with the same problems as when I was 15. It seems like a horribly sick cycle of my life repeating over and over again and I’m always left searching but in the end I’ve only found emptiness.
Still conflicted at 0000hrs
posted by Ben at 12:00 AM
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