Ugh.

Well, we've all heard the saying: "She's got daddy issues". Fact is, I'm not a she and I've learned to deal with my own "daddy issues" with my father. Not to say that I haven't had any issues with my mother, but I've always had this deep resentment for my father. As far as I can remember, my father has always been a prick, who constantly complained about his life, yet did nothing to change his current situation. I swear the man breathed only to complain, even more than my mother. He'll complain about money, work, and the house not being cleaned. Whatever he didn't find suitable, he'd always find a way to complain about it. As I think of it, I don't think I've ever heard him say anything optimistic in my life. I think my father always thought the world was out to punish him. In turn, he'd take his frustrations out on the family. I'm not trying to paint my father as a horrible monster, that beat his wife and children. No, he's far from that. But at times his verbal tirade wore everyone down. If he was a chick, his name would be Debbie Downer. As the eldest son, he's always given me shit for not being a good example for my younger brothers. Did I mention, I've always considered myself the black sheep of the family? No? Well, I am. In my parent's eyes, I was their "problem child" that was always getting into trouble in school or sometimes with the law. Yes, I've had my occasional run-ins with Johnny Law, usually being out late past curfew or cutting class, but never anything to be considered a certified, juvenile delinquent. I've just always had a problem with authority, being told what I can and cannot do. What can I say? I've always been a rebel since I was a kid. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't the kid who constantly got into fights to prove I was a bad ass or consistently served after school detention for something stupid. No, that wasn't me. I was the kid who stayed out later than he was suppose to, or who snuck out late at night and took the car for a joy ride when I didn't have a license. That was me. When I was younger, I was the quietest out of 4 children. I was often reticent and well behaved. I still am at times. But as I got older, compared to my angelic siblings, I was considered "Satan's Little Helper." Neither my older sister nor younger brothers, rarely got into any type of trouble. Guess, when I reached puberty, my rebellion went into maximum overdrive. It also didn't put my parents at ease, that I've always hung out with an older crowd. So you can imagine, what might be going through their minds during that point of my teenage years.

This particular story takes place not too long before, what I considered myself hitting rock bottom. I was 17 year old senior in high school, who was barely passing any of his classes. Not to mention, a dear friend of mine who just recently passed away. I took my friend's death to heart and started to lose faith in humanity, let alone myself. I had my own personal demons I was trying to conquer and thoughts of suicide I tried to erase from my mind. I was taking any type of drug that would help me evade dealing with reality. I was seriously depressed and turned into a self-destructive alcoholic. Remember that scene from "Leaving Las Vegas" , where Nicholas Cage is drinking a bottle of vodka while he's taking a shower? That was me. I was hanging out late during school weeks, and sometimes never made it home till the next day. I was losing focus in school. No, actually more like shifting that focus on making money, which I felt was more important at the time. Being that my parents never really had much money to buy my siblings and I, anything that wasn't essential for survival or our education. Luckily, we had aunts and uncles who understood my families situation, and tried to spoil us every chance they could get. Anyway, hanging out with an older crowd, you tend to get envious when your friends can afford to buy nice things with money they've made for themselves. Ever since I was 16 years old and without any transportation to work, I found myself entrenched in the dealings of the underworld. The "fast life" combined with the one I was currently living my senior year, wasn't helping at all. Damn it, now I've gone off tangent. Maybe I'll post that story another day... In short of what I was feeling, I would've be considered clinically depressed and worse, a lost soul with no where to go. All of these variables bunched together during the heart of that transition, when you evolve from an teenager to an adult, really took it's toll on my mind and body.

Anyway, back to what I was getting at. Everyone in their lifetime, one time or another, has had someone that didn't believe in them for whatever reason(s) and it was your sole mission in life, to prove him/she wrong. I've experienced this life changing situation during this period of my life. Great timing, right? Life really loves to play it's silly games when you least expect it. Anyway, It was the day my father and I got into it because I was failing high school and the possibility of not graduating on time. During the shouting match, he told me that: "You're gonna grow up to be nothing but a bum, like your friends..." That wasn't the exact statement, but something to that extent. Ouch, right? Being the man that my father is, you'd think I'd be immune to anything that comes out his mouth. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. Hearing those words come out of someone who was suppose to love you and stand behind you no matter what you do, altered my life from then on out. It was really the last thing I wanted to hear during this trivial point in my life. I really could've used some words of encouragement, but was dealt the opposite. I can honestly say it really fucked me up, coming from my own father and what I was going through at that time. Even to this day, I'm afraid to have children in fear I may lose my temper and say something that could be so detrimental to their future. They say: "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me." I call bullshit! They say: "For me to value your opinion, I must first respect you." Well I lost a lot of respect for my father that day. It's just one of those things, if they had a parenting hand book, that you should never say to your kids. Too bad parenting nor life, comes with instructions. I've learned from the whole situation and it's helped make me the man I am today. I rarely drink anymore and laid off the drugs...

Needless to say, I busted my ass in night school to prove my father wrong and graduate with the rest of my high school class. But my relationship with my father, never really recovered after that argument. I understand now, where he was coming from and what he was trying to do, which was push me to succeed. I just believe the situation could've been handled with a lot more compassion. After I graduated, I moved out and pretty much cut all my ties with my parents. At one point, I didn't speak to them for 6 months, and I only lived 15 minutes away. I don't even know why I decided to write this post, maybe because Father's Day is approaching and it's a day I really don't look forward to. It's been an on going process to salvage whatever relationship I have left with my mother and father. I've always told others that my parents are good people, just not good parents. I've learned to accept my mother for who she is and her stubborn ways. If you ever call me stubborn, that's who I get it from. As for my father, we've become estranged as far as father and sons go. I see him more as a friend than a father figure and I'm okay with that...