My mom just called me, shes miles away in a different country and she said one single sentence that made me cry so much, i feel like my heart just broke into a million pieces. I know that she didn’t mean to hurt me and that she loves me more then anyone ever could but she just said something i always knew and thought about but no one ever said it to me.
“Your dad chose drugs over you, he did it 17 years ago when you were born and he does it over and over again. Every single day.”
That’s what she said and that’s how it is. Saying it like this it sounds like my mom is walking over my feelings as if it doesn’t bother her at all. That’s not true, she just didn’t know a lot, what was going on inside me, how my relationship to my dad really is and that he still just cares about drugs. I didn’t plan to talk about it to her at all, it was just something that was always like this and i never questioned it. It is my normal, or it was my normal. When I answered her call earlier today i was nervous, not just a bit i was shitting myself. This call could change my whole life. Okay maybe that’s a bit overexaggerated but it would at least decide about the nearer future. The big question was, will my mom allow me to study abroad or does she want me to come home and go to school for another two years to do the German leaving cert, but that’s a topic for another day. Anyways, at the end of the call she mentioned my dad. My parents are split um since a day before my first birthday and my dad lives with his partner and there daughter, my little half-sister in a village near by. My mom casually asked if i already told my dad about my plans to study abroad and i denied. She gave out to me since hes my father and has a right to know about it, even tho its not his decision since he lost custody over me its still important to inform him about my life from time to time. She was genuinely surprised when i mentioned that i didn’t talk to him since i left Germany which is nearly 2 years ago. No text form my birthday, no text for Christmas and all my messages left on open. When i went home over Christmas i spend one night at my dads house. Around an hour after i arrived he told us that he has to leave and meet with the boys. My stepmom reminded him that I’m just home for one night but he started shouting at us and said his plans earlier. My stepmom got annoyed and told him that he knew I was coming. His response was the same as always, he started calling us names and made us out to be the bad ones. he left and I didn’t hear him coming home anymore that night, even tho i stayed um till 4 am waiting for him. The next morning he slept in, not surprising since he was out the whole night. He eventually got up and we left the house to get food before they dropped me back to my moms house. While we were in the restaurant he kept taking pictures of me eating and everyone who knows me knows that i hate others seeing me eating don’t even talk about taking photos. I told him that i don’t like it but he proceeded. I said it again and said we can take some after dinner if he wants memories, which is actually a cute thought. He agreed but i saw that he still continued so i got really straight forward and told him to stop. He got thick with me and didn’t talk a word with me for the whole night. The part that bothers me is that he didn’t just ignore me he ignored everyone and even gave out to the waiter. That’s how he always is, i haven’t seen him in a good mood for more then 2 hours in a good few years now. When we left the restaurant and went back to the car he lighted a joint. He proceeded to smoke in the car and i couldn’t help but telling him that i don’t think its a good idea to hotbox with my 5 year old sister next to me. He told me to f*ck off and didn’t talk to anyone anymore. When i told my mom about it today she didn’t seem surprised, “that’s how he always was and that’s why i left him” was her response. When i mentioned that he preferred to meet up with his friends instead of me she just said “its not about the friends, he doesn’t give a flying about his friends, its about the drugs” that’s no news to me but it is different if you hear it from someone else the just your own theories and conclusions.
Reading over this again i make my dad out to be a bad person, he really isn’t. He just has his priority and family is not one of them. His first priority are his drugs, he needs them to stay relaxed and to be able to cope with “us”. His other priority is his work. I will never say anything against that because he does a great job, he has his own praxis for occupational therapy and does literally everything to keep it going. Sometimes i feel like he has a closer relationship to his patients then me. The only way for me to connect with him is over drugs. He loves to talk about them, to tell me stories about what happend to him or his friends on “bad trips”, whats the difference between them is, how to tell if its pure and clean or not and where to get it from even tho he doesn’t want me to buy anything on the streets he prefers if i get it of him. Those are the rare moments we can connect and i see the real version of him, the one who gets excited about little things and shows me that i have a special part in his heart. For me it is obviously handy, id never have to pay for anything and always get the best of the best. He met some of my stoner friends and they got on great, that’s when i ask myself, maybe that’s normal, maybe i just live a strutted live and how he lives is normal. At least he seems happy until one of us crashes his illusion. There’s a lot that makes me question my point of you for example when he shows me pictures he took in the woods and points out how he sees people in there. Ghosts or aliens, some kind of creatures he can’t explain. Everyone called him crazy, his best friend and my step mom were talking about sending him into a mental health clinic. I didn’t believe him either, i couldn’t see it. It broke my heart seeing him like that, broken and desperate because no one believes him. I spend the whole night looking at the photos he left on the table, later that night he handed me a joint and we talked a lot, that’s the time of the day we could talk all honest and about everything, that’s when it felt like hes my dad. I really miss those moments. He rolled another one for me and i chanced another look at the photos. My heart stopped for a second when i saw the small creatures, i had never seen anything like this before. It scared me and for more then just a minute i thought im about to go insane. It looked exactly how he described it. I couldn’t see it with my sober eye but now it was so obvious. Maybe there is more out there then we know? Maybe we protect ourselves from seeing it and being high opens us the view into a different dimension. I had smoked before but ive never experienced anything like that. The photos were taken over a period of time so it definitely were’t shadows. I went to bed shortly after and the next day i couldn’t see it anymore but i know that my dad is not crazy and i wouldn’t let them send him into a mental health clinic as if hes some sort of a sociopath! Time went by and we didn’t talk about it anymore, I think dad learned that no one would believe him things like that and that hes better off keeping it to himself.
For me it is hard to cope with the knowledge that he doesn’t really care about me, even tho we had our dad-daughter moments, he didn’t call me once since i left germany, he never checks back on me or asks about my life, about school, my friends or boys. Thinking about it makes me realize that he actually doesn’t know anything about me. When he had to fill out some forms so i could get financelle support for my time abroad, he couldn’t tell my age, let alone my date of birth. He didn’t know if i have a second name or what year i am in in school. He doesn’t know what i am doing in my free time, who my friends are, if i have a boyfriend or not and he even took a few months to notice that i left the country.
I just wish i would have a dad i can count on. Someone who is genuinely interested about my life and cares about me. Someone who loves me whatsoever.
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