A letter.

So, lately I have been feeling down. 

And as we all know, I write when I am down. 

Now, its probably repetitive, but, it's my blog; my rules. 

Last week, I was watching a show on HBO called Meth Storm(?). 

I have a fascination with drug addicts, especially meth. Its usually all the same story, but I like the psychology behind it.

Anyways, there was a child on there whose father was the chief of police, and apparently the town was a big meth cesspool. The kid was maybe twelve years old, he was going over the times when he was a child and could point out meth heads in the grocery store, or wherever. And it got me thinking, obviously this child knew what to look for because of his father. But, there are many children who know from personal experience. And that to me, breaks my heart. 

I knew what a crack pipe looked like at the age of fourteen. I know what the smell of meth smells like, I know the little signs that are strung out throughout the house that it was used earlier that day. I know that BIC pens are the perfect tool to get high. That rolled up dollar bills on the table, aren't just rolled up dollar bills. I have been around crackheads, alcoholics, and even someone who MURDERED a person. Someone who actually took another persons life. 

No one should have to be subjected to those things, let alone a CHILD. 

The older I get, the more I remember. 

I have had so much stolen from me, my innocence being the most important thing. 

As children, we grow up idolizing our parents. They do no wrong, and if they do, its okay because you love them and they love you. 

People only show you what they want you to see. 

I never talked about my fathers drug use, or abuse to anyone. 

Who wants to admit that their father is a piece of shit drug addict who abuses them? 

The answer is no one. 

Shame is what we would call that. 

And that is what I have felt my entire teenage/adult life. 

Shame that my father could/would do those things. Shame that I didn't report it. 

Shame that it happened to me. 

As I get older, I recognize more and more how fucked up it all was. I look at my children and think how in the world would someone want to hurt their children? They are so pure and innocent, I want to shield them from all of the bad and evil from this world, not invite it through the front door. 

I have felt a lot a pain lately, doubt, unworthiness, and a tremendous amount of weakness. Years have passed, but every so often I let the pain and anger take over me. 

I have gone back and forth with myself a million times on writing my father. Telling him I forgive him, filling him in on my life. But, why in the world would I do that? Why would I invite someone into a piece of my life when they so openly and blatantly didn't give a shit about it in the first place? 

So instead of writing him a letter and mailing it, I am going to write it here. 

This is my safe place, I come here to let everything out and to express all of my feelings. 

I dont know how this 'letter' will turn out, so I guess we will find out together. 

I can remember you being my best friend. The person I would look up to and laugh with. The person who would tell me I could eat as many nutty bars as I wanted to. The person who would let me get away with anything. I remember all of our favorite movies and tv shows, and the quotes that we would say to each other daily. I remember the rides you would take me on in the 'big truck', and the random truck stops we would go to and get all of the junk foods.I remember when I was 8 years old, you stole all of the change out of my piggy banks and then lied about it. I remember when mom left you, and I felt like my whole world was ending. I remember coming to stay with you and skipping school the next day because we were too lazy to get up and drive the 30 minutes. I remember mom having to bring groceries with me because you didn't have a job and couldn't feed me. I remember the time you were homeless and we had to pick you up from under the bridge. I remember the first time you laid your hands on me and how I didn't see you for six months after. I remember telling mom that nothing happened and that I just didn't want to go to your house. I remember making excuses in my head for you, that I was all you had, and if I left, you'd have nothing. I remember the times you left me at your friends houses because you were out 'partying', and wouldn't answer your phone when I called wondering where you were. I remember making excuses when my friend found naked pictures of children on your phone. I remember the broken crack pipes in the bath room drawer, the mirrors on the table with crushed up powder residue. I remember the stale smell of smoke and odd smell of meth that filled your house. I remember you trying to manipulate me when I was busy with friends and you were all alone. I remember bringing you subway when I got off work because you yet again didn't have money or a job. I remember the Christmas eve we got pulled over because you thought it was a good idea to take your car a mile down the road to the gas station to get cigarettes, even though the inspection had been out for 10 years. I remember sitting in the car, scared out of my mind not knowing what was happening, and having no way to call anyone. I remember riding home in the back of the cop car because they took you to jail for whatever reason. I remember visiting you in jail months later. I remember the day that I was taken to the court house because and questioned about you. I remember sitting in front of a camera and telling a complete stranger where, when and how you hurt me. I remember the last conversation I ever had with you, calling you on the phone and asking you why, and if you had hurt anyone else. I remember every ounce of pain and emptiness I felt that day and the following year. I felt confused, hurt, angry, lost... I didn't know what to do. I didn't realize that what you had been doing was 'wrong', you had manipulated me into thinking that our life was normal, and that it wasn't hurting me. And now I realize how wrong I was. The pain I felt absolutely consumed me. I could not function, there wasn't a day of my junior year that I didn't cry. I felt more shame than any child should EVER have to feel. You took away my innocence, my right to be a child, my trust, and my ability to know what love was, or if it even existed. You hurt MY family, and that is more unforgivable that hurting me. Everyone says that you should forgive the ones who wronged you, I do not forgive you. As an adult I still struggle with the pain. I find it impossible for someone to love me, and question it daily. I see only my flaws, and when I see a glimpse of something good, I quickly find a reason to dismiss it. You were one big disappointment, and thats all I expect from myself. I find things to fill the holes that I feel inside. And 9 times out of 10, they are extremely unhealthy. I battle with my own addiction. I question everyones intentions and expect the worst in people. You didn't love me enough to protect me from evil. You helped take the innocence of countless other children, and subjected them to a life similar to mine. I wish that I could take their pain, knowing that you hurt others is more heart breaking than you just hurting me. You made me feel unworthy of anything more than the life you led. You broke me in more ways than I'll ever be able to put back together. I will always have to fight myself to see more than what you showed me. But, I will always fight. I will fight for my children, their peace, happiness, safety and innocence. I will show them a life that every child deserves. I will teach them to learn from the things around them, and that no matter who breaks them down, how bad their day is, or how inadequate they feel, they will ALWAYS be worthy of love. As long as I am living, I will make sure that they never have to question their worth. I want you to know that I am where I belong. And you are exactly where you belong. I refuse to feel sorry for you any more. I refuse to let the sadness creep in when I see my son playing with his grandpas, because you do not deserve to know his love. I have a daughter that I would walk through hell to make sure she never feels the pain that you can inflict. I will not fail them like you failed me. I don't think you will ever be able fathom the pain that you have caused to so many people, and I don't believe you could ever feel remorse for your mistakes. I hope that you can find forgiveness in yourself and with God. Because I can't give it to you. You're gone, and I've spent too long letting you control me. I want my control back. I want to feel worthy and strong in my own skin. You've stolen my peace for too long. I want it back. 

Well theres that. I didn't really know how to end it. Maybe its a cliffhanger for another time. 

Either way, that I feel slightly better. I want more than anything to be able to be strong. 

"Do not be ashamed of the wars your soul has fought to save itself."

And on that note, I bid you adieu.