I hope this gets to you
LEBOWSKI: It’s funny. I can look back on a life of achievement, on challenges met, competitors bested, obstacles overcome. I’ve accomplished more than most men, and without the use of my legs. What… What makes a man, Mr. Lebowski?
DUDE: I don’t know, sir.
LEBOWSKI: Is it… is it, being prepared to do the right thing? Whatever the price? Isn’t that what makes a man?
DUDE: Sure. That and a pair of testicles.
- From The Big Lebowski
Last year, 2010, was by far the hardest year of my short existence. A lot happened in a short period of time, I divulged into madness and chaos, I suffered, I smoked weed and drank to try and mask my problems, I grew my hair out so I look like a crazy person, I met good people, I dropped bad people, but the worst person I know went to jail. That person is my father.
My father, despite his best efforts, is not a man that I can easily talk about. He gave into himself instead of doing the right thing. He became the very thing he didn’t want to be; a toxic, lying, overweight, unhappy man. Most of the last quarter of 2010 was suffering over him leaving because he manipulated me so bad, that I believed that I had no value. It will take a long time to heal the damage he left in his wake.
I am not expecting anyone to understand where I am coming from, nor try to. But see my words, and understand that I will not give up hope for my future. My friend Jen Friel (http://talknerdytomelover.com) wrote earlier that we have the ability to change ourselves, and our lives if we make the effort to do so. I am ready, in this new year, this new decade, to stop beating myself up over the past, and move forward with my present, and the future.
Yesterday, I was hungover, but my mom suggested that the best way to try and get over my depression and suffering was to write to my dad. I said in the past that I had not wanted to talk to the man at all, but she said that telling him how I feel would make me feel better, and I should say whatever I feel. Well, I wrote it, and I feel so much better having did.
So I present this letter to you, in hopes that you will better understand how I feel, and why I feel so much anger and grief towards my own father. It is brutal and shocking, but it is how I feel, and all of it is the truth. You’re wondering why I would do this? I’m not afraid anymore. I feel better knowing that thousands, if not millions of people could read this because people need to know that no matter what you are going through, no matter how severe your situation, no matter what happens: You are not alone.
It’s taken me a long time to write this because I didn’t think I had anything to say to you, but I do. I have more words for you than I have for most people, and I am going to make you suffer as I have suffered through your constant, fake, tormenting bullshit.
You were a good father once. You were a positive influence in my life at some times. But that has long past. The last 7 years of my life have been nothing but pain and suffering because of you. You brought this upon yourself, but you also brought this upon the people you should have cared about the most. You used to be a good man, but that has long past. I’m going to tell you how I feel, and you’re going to take it.
Do you know your own self-value? I don’t know mine. Why? Because you never instilled it in me that I HAD any value whatsoever. You were too wrapped up in your business and food to even give a fuck. I couldn’t have a 10 minute conversation with you without you picking up the phone for business. It was like your child, but I was not apparently. I’m sad that I even came out of your sorry excuse for testicles. A real man takes care of his children, and puts them first before anything, even if he doesn’t always agree with the things they say or do. You did not. You kicked me to the curb and put more focus on Charlotte. She has suffered as I have, but in a different way. It didn’t matter what I said or did, but you interrupted me when I was telling you something. You fell ASLEEP on me one time when I was talking to you. A true father listens, you did not.
Your constant impulsive decisions caused us to be in the place we are now; almost homeless, living off my mother’s parents, barely struggling to get by. I had a hard time even telling you I loved you at some points, but I realize now that it’s because I don’t. You used to be a good man, but now you will suffer the consequences of your actions.
Your mother is a bitch, and I don’t want to have anything to do with your family. You obviously are too scared to say what you have to say to her. You let her control you, and you never let your suffering go. You should have shed her, because she’s a stuck up cunt, but you didn’t. You turned those feelings in on yourself and let it eat you. You should have realized that you had value, that you were worth something. You did not.
I know how good of a person I can be. I’ve saved people from suicide, death, I even saved you. I wish I hadn’t sometimes. You would have made an excellent vegetable. I admit my mistakes, I tell people how I feel, and if I don’t agree, I respect their opinion instead of tell them that they’re wrong. You? You always told me I didn’t know what I was talking about, and you never let me figure things out on my own either. You always had to do everything for me instead of letting me live my life. Your promises of wealth, glory, and happiness were all lies, a visage of what YOU wanted. Instead, you brought pain and suffering to those who counted on you. You never did the right thing, and you never listened.
You’ve made me suffer, you’ve made Mom suffer, you’ve made Charlotte suffer. You lied to us, your own wife and children! Family is about respect and love, but you shouldn’t have even had me at all. You don’t deserve me. I can do good with my life instead of the evil you did with yours. You are suffering the consequences, and you deserve it.
I don’t love you. I think that you’re the biggest piece of shit that ever walked the planet. You let your ego and greed get in the way of what mattered most. You played us. You treated us like your pets instead of people. I am a man. I am a human, I am NOT a monster. YOU are the monster for doing what you did. I associate you with evil. You might not have killed anyone, but you killed me emotionally and mentally. You caused lasting psychological damage to me, and it will NEVER go away. You never let me speak, and have my own opinions. You would never admit that I was right about anything, even if I knew EXACTLY what I was talking about. You never knew jack shit about anything because all you cared about was Food and Business. You chose your partners and associates impulsively instead of weighing your options because you were so desperate. You thought you could fix things, but you only made them worse through your actions.
I hold so much anger to you. I think you’re a cocksucker, and you deserve your punishment. You avoided the truth, and now you’re paying for it with 7 years of your life. I hope you rot.
You are where you should be, gone, out of my life. I want you to stay there. I haven’t read any of your letters because I don’t want your excuses and bullshit. I know you’re just trying to reconnect with me, but I don’t want any part of it. I don’t want you in my life, I don’t want you in Mom’s life, and I don’t want you in Charlotte’s. You don’t deserve us. All we ever did was love you, and you treated us like your servants you fat fuck. You gained more weight, and you never gave a shit about your health, which is paramount. You made Mom suffer having to have sex with some fat, lazy slob. She doesn’t love you anymore. I know she doesn’t. I don’t love you at all.
So old man, this is my vengeance, my words. Not a sword or a fist, though I would punch you so hard your neck would snap if I had the chance. You’re not worth my time, and you’re not worth the effort. You made your choice. You chose yourself. I didn’t have a choice, but now I do, and I’m telling you that you will no longer put up with you. I will not be manipulated by a sociopath, nor will I accept that you are my father. You are just another stranger, waiting to die.
I don’t want you near me, I don’t want you to meet my future girlfriend and/or wife, I don’t want you to see your future grandchildren. As far as I’m concerned, you never existed. I’m choosing my life over suffering for the actions of yours. When I get famous, I’m telling people in interviews that you are not in my life, and that you deserve your punishment: not having a relationship with your own flesh and blood. I’m not choosing my ego, I’m choosing my life.
Don’t call me, don’t email me, don’t write me, don’t text me, don’t Facebook me, and stay away. If I see you, or hear from you again, I will get a restraining order against you. I used to be your son, but now, I’m not, and I refuse to be.
My brutality and anger towards you is endless, but I don’t have to put up with you anymore. I’m shedding you like a snake sheds its skin. You don’t deserve me.
Fuck you. I hope this makes you suffer.
What makes a man? It’s the choices he makes to better himself and others. The choice to accept his life, and move forward, no matter how painful the truth may be.
Thank you all for reading this, and I hope that your new year is brighter than anyone could hope for.