The blame game

   My mom kicked him out of the house. He refused to leave. So she did the next best thing. She called her brother. He lived in California and was going to stop by to see us before he headed to Mexico to see my grandparents. He knew he was an alcoholic he applauded my mom for finally standing her ground. When he arrived he was surprised by how he found my dad. He wasn't the man he remembered.  Alcohol tends to change people both physically and emotionally. My dad was shocked he didn't expect to see his brother. He was ashamed , scared, anxious. Now I see where we all get it from. That nervousness, the anxiety of the new. It came from him. My uncle told him he was going with them, no excuses he was not to stay with us. He refused, he argued, but I'm fine, I can stop at anytime. Lies , or maybe he truly believed it. My mom packed his things and they were loaded to the car. My brother held on to him, he knew things were going to change. He was so angry at my mom, in his eyes she was the one breaking up the family not him.
  My dad looked at him and said goodbye , gave him a hug and he cried. I think that was the first time I felt he was sincere. My sister was too young to remember and my youngest brother was a baby, I stood up to give him a hug, he looked at me and walked away. I sat and tears rolled down my eyes. Not even in this moment could he give me some acknowledgement. My uncle noticed and hugged , don't worry he said he will get better. The car pulled out of our dirt parkway and that was the last time I saw him. I haven't talked to him since. I would pen pal with my grandparents weekly , I never got to meet them, well yes  I did. I just don't remember them. I left Mexico when I was five and they became a blur to me. Talking to them though seemed so familiar, these letters I looked forward to. It was my connection to him , I see that now. The older they got the fewer the letters that came until they just stopped. I got older and I focused on other things.
   My dad has almost weekly phone conversation with my brother, I talked to him once . It was brief, he told me he blamed me for the divorce, how could I do that to the family?! I sat there in disbelief, how was that my fault?.. Well you see my mom had told me before hand, she wanted to make sure I was ok with the divorce. I told her yes, do it. So it's my fault the family that was so well maintained broke. I had nothing to say to him, he blamed me then so be it. I was his excuse. After blaming me and telling me all nonsense he then had the nerve to ask me for money.  I laughed, yea it would be my pleasure to send the father of the year some money. I shook my head, this is all you want from me isn't it?.. His silence answered me. I hadn't talked to him once in about 10 years . The fuckery of it all. I handed the phone over to my brother and walked away. Brother still at times sends him money and talks to him often. Me or my sister don't . My youngest brother on occasion humors him.
   Its my brothers choice so I respect it, but I for one don't want to speak to him. I needed him as I was growing up. I needed to feel the love of a father, the support but I didn't receive it. I accepted young that he wouldn't be that person for me. It did hurt, it made me feel unworthy. Back then I felt less than, so him not showing me that affection just reinforced to me that I wasn't good enough. I needed his protection. I was being molested and I was afraid, fear controlled me. I was scared of life, I was a ball of anxiety.. I needed him to protect me. I created this bubble around me to protect myself. I didn't let anyone in, and I didn't let anything out. Every single tear was stored, all the anger ran through every inch of my body. To help ease all that emotion I started cutting. That physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain I was feeling.
   I never once told anyone what was happening. I felt tainted, I felt I was the one to blame. I turned to food , well If i gain weight I thought this will go away. So I ate. I gained weight. My aunts criticized me for the weight gain, they would make remarks. Oh are you going to eat that? You shouldn't wear that. You really should loose weight. All of it added to the pain. Why didn't they see that I was protecting myself?! WHY! My confidence was shot. I felt like I didn't belong. SO many night I layed in bed with the blade looking at my wrist.. Maybe tonight I thought, maybe I will be brave enough. I no longer wanted to go anywhere I wanted to stay home and avoid making myself a target. Mom noticed the change in me. She would ask me if everything was ok. I always lied. She didn't need this stress too. I refused to be the reason she suffered. After those times of abuse, I don't know where I traveled to mentally. I would loose my days, I completely omitted it. I refused to have it in my mind. But it didn't always work. Mom got me counseling at school, I went completely inwards. But the counseling didn't help. I knew what she needed to hear so I told her just that. I needed to not get myself in these situations I thought. So I learned then to show people what they need to see.
   I became an expert on hiding behind a smile. It became routine at some point. That's when I stopped living .