I'm lying to myself and this dagger's my excuse...
I swear. My family is so polarized it makes me sick.
Now that I am older and have developed an acute sense of mind, and established my semi-independance, I am also apparently mature enough to feel the effects of familial segregation.
As far back as I can remember, when in my child-like state, my family seemed as close to normal as you could get. As far as my naiive mind could tell, everyone on both sides of my family loved one another, and grievances and rivalries were practically non-existent. But now that I have taken my adult form, I have come to realize that my clean, clear, and happy family ties were nothing but a mangled, messy web. And the fact that my parents separated just 3 years ago proved only to create more reason to continue the feuding. I've come to realize that it isn't just that my aunts or uncles are grumpy or anti-social, for there's more to it. They're not cold nor conniving by nature; they're attitude towards me is the result of my merely being born...and moreso to the fact that I am no longer a cute, giggly little 3-year old.
I have so unconsciously made enemies with so many of my own kin, that I don't even know where to start.
Perhaps I'll begin with my Aunt Joanie....who's not really my aunt, but more my second cousin. She is actually my dad's cousin (on his mother's side), and has always been extremely attatched to my him. But she always disliked my mom for several reasons -- for one, while married to him, my mom drew my father's attention away from Joanie, causing a set tone of jealousy. And Joanie, being the defiant whiner she is, never extracted even the slightest bit of sympathy from my mother (and why should she? all she does is bitch and moan about this and that and every possible little issue one could generate). When my parents got separated, Joanie obviously fled to Dad's side and seized every opportunity she possibly could to go against my mother.
"Roberta is the reason she and Rich went their separate ways....it's all her fault"
"Oh, Rich is a hassle to house? Well if that bitch hadn't kicked him out of his home, then maybe he wouldn't be asking the rest of the family if he could stay with us"
No Joanie...actually, they AGREED that he was to move out. He wasn't forced out...he WANTED to. And I don't exactly appreciate you trying to place this all on my mom.
Moreso than the fact that she tries so desperately to assess blame to my mother, I also dislike my aunt Joanie for loving Donna, my Dad's girlfriend. Granted she has every right to, the fact that she makes more of an effort to spend time with someone foreign to her own bloodline rather than the rest of her family is sickening.
And my defense? Plenty. She regards me as filth. I am the spawn of my mother...and the fact that I am as outspoken as I am frightens her. So in her attempt to down my spirits, she blatantly ignores me at family gatherings. She chooses not to speak to me, nor make eye contact, and anytime I'm at the center of a family conversation, she looks away and twirls her hair in every effort to my presence seem unworthy of her time and everyone elses.
HAHA JOANIE YOU'VE FAILED MISERABLY YOU FAT PILE OF SHIT.
Which brings me to my father, whom I reluctantly refer to as so. Throughout my child he has been a negligent parent. For the 4 years I ran track he came to only 2 of those meets (out of the 12 or so I had ANNUALLY). Not only has he been negligent, he has also been frightening. If I were bad I would plead, sometimes driven to tears, to my mom not to mention the incident to him for fear of how he'd react. He did something no father should ever do to their child: ignite fear into them. He frightened me. He was violent and easily angered. He wasn't afraid to use his hands nor fists, nor was he afraid to shout obscenities to me even with guests in the next room over.
He didn't seem to take his responsibilities as a father very seriously either. If anything, the way he acted towards my sister and I seemed almost childish. Like when a 6 year old gets a new kitten for the first time...sure, the child wants to play with the kitten constantly, and have it curl itself up in their lap. But when it comes time to feeding the kitten or cleaning out its litter box, the child refuses. Such a manner perfectly describes my father -- he wants to experience the "fun" parts to being a father - often at times "showing off" carrie and I to his friends, and then leaving us to join them for a beer. However he avoids whenever possible in partaking in the actual parental aspect of being a father. Responsibility is like the plague to him.
And it makes me wonder why he even wanted us in the first place.
It's also unsettling knowing just how long my dad's mistreatment of my mother ran on for. It was shortly after I was born that my aunt nancy started seeing the problems in my mom and dad's failed marriage, and confronted my mom about it. By the time I started kindergarten my aunt nancy was urging my mom to kick my father out.
Everytime my mom started a new diet my dad would try to discourage her. "You're never going to lose the weight, Rob....you haven't yet, and you sure as hell still won't at the rate you're aging" he would say. It wasn't until he left that my mom finally lost the weight she had gained after quitting smoking and giving birth to 2 children (honestly, how could you blame her for gaining all the excess weight?)
Now onto the Warner's. This all begins with my mom's aunt jan, who is my grandfather's sister. Now alone she isn't such a bad person. Sure I don't exactly admire her, but I can at least tolerate her. However, her asshole husband nearly tore that end of the family apart. And their bizarre background doesn't help to say much of him even being close to a saint.
Bob Warner. Asshole-extraordinaire. Extreme religious zealot -- so extreme he tried to give up his own children to a religious commune.
crazy, huh? I think crazy is is a bit of an understatement.
You see....when he married my great aunt jan he had already had 4 kids. He was previously married to this other woman - however she died giving birth to his youngest daughter, Lisa. Since that time, he made Lisa feel as if she were at fault for her mother's death, and this led her on a guilt trip and a harrowing mental illlness as a result thereof. After remarrying to my great aunt jan, they ended up having 2 more kids - Joey and Susie. By the time Joey turned 5 the commune tried to take him away and place him in a community boarding school, as was required of every child once they turned 5. Yet my aunt jan stood up and did the one good thing she has ever done in her life -- she said no. By objecting to the rules, they sentenced to have her thrown out of the community. At this time she was 7 months pregnant with her 3rd child, David. Yet despite the state she was in, they still ruled on her being excommuted. And what did Bob do? He sided with the commune. He wasn't heard from thereon, until after 10 years had passed.
The commun eventually fell apart. And along came Bob begging Jan for forgiveness. He wanted her back. So she took him back with open, loving arms.
At 10 years old, David met his father for the first time.
20 years later, while David was merely in his 30's, he announced to his family that he was gay.
And so...they disowned him on the spot. Homosexuality is "sinful" according to the Bible. And Bob being the religious fanatic he was, was willing to disown his youngest child over something as stupid as his sexual orientation.
And so Bob lives today a cruel, dishonest man. Nobody buys into his manipulative nature anymore: he's nice to our face, but plotting behind our backs. He has never worked one honest day in his life. He devotes his life entirely to religion, which in all honestly is extremely ironic, considering the way he treats people. He lives in my great-grandparents old house rent-free, living off of my aunt jan's hard-earned income for whatever else he feels he needs.
My Mom's brother, Rick, and his wife Kristen have also caused trouble for our family. Having them live next door to us hasn't exactly been a picnic. The problems began before I was even born. Often at night, when plagued by a nightmare, my sister would do what every child in America would do: she'd hop into her parents bed in order to fall asleep more peacefully.
"Oh, but you shouldn't do that" my aunt would tell my mother. "It's wrong to have your 3 year old daughter sleep in your bed with you and your husband. What happens if Rich gets a hard on while she's sleeping between the two of you?"
Yet when Talia, her first child, was born, she slept in her parents bed every night. And now, at 5, she STILL does. The crib my grandmother had bought as a baby shower gift had never once been slept in.
Then the problems escalated with their pets.
Not only do her dogs shit in our yard and her guinea hens wake us up every morning at 4, but her animals also corner our cats -- ON OUR PROPERTY. She couldn't have at least once had the decency to put her dogs on a leash. Perhaps if she had, then maybe her pit bull "twinkle toes" wouldn't have attacked me when I was playing in my backyard when I was 3 (thus making me semi-fearful of dogs).
Now how about Grampy Freeman, the man who claimed himself my dad's step-father and legal guardian -- the man whom set the negligent habits my father would later repeat to his own children? This man was a phony. He was a racist, a supremicist, and an overall nasty bigot. He felt he was god's gift to the world. He could boss around whomever he felt like, whenever he felt like it. Just the same, he could ignore whomever he wanted wherever he wanted, even if this included his own children at home. He often chose 5 minutes of TV commercials over 2 minutes of listening to his son's first day of school. He argued with airport attendees for letting a black man on a flight before him (despite the fact that the black man was further up in line). Grampy Freeman likes me because I used to have blonde hair and blue eyes. Yet he hates my mid-eastern-looking cousins because they have an olive complexion and dark brown hair.
He is an awful, awful man as was his sister, "Aunt Alice" whom we like to call "the troll" because of her height and grumpy nature.
And it is he whom I have to thank for having such a rotten father.
THANK YOU ASSHOLE. BURN IN HELL.
I need not go any further. If I do then I'll completely lose it.
This is officially the end of the rant. Have a nice day.