Did you miss Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, or Part VI?
My adolescent years flew by, and, to be honest, I don’t remember much about them. I guess I don’t want to. I realized early in my teens that I would never be able to fix my family, so I ignored them instead. I did my best to never be seen in public with them, and if I was, I would laugh it off with a quick joke about “the old man.†But each joke left me more embarrassed and ashamed. After all, he was my father, and I loved him. But as the years passed, I had to try harder and harder to convince myself of that.
I began to resent him, to resent the way he controlled and manipulated me. It wasn’t fair that he could ruin our family and still somehow make me feel guilty for hating him! Why shouldn’t I hate him? After all he had taken from me – my childhood, security, home – why not hate him? I wanted to. I wanted to hate every part of who he was, but I couldn’t. After all, he was my father, and no matter how much it hurt, I loved him.
Tomorrow: Lost time – Part VIII
