So I thought that I would make this post about my dad since he's one of the main reasons that I am both a writer and have so much to write about. So here's the story:
Growing up I was a total "Daddy's Girl". My dad came to be with my mom and I about a year after I was born because he had stayed in the Dominican Republic until he received his residency. Once that happened he moved with us to New York and then about 9 months later my brother was born and our little family of four was complete.
From ages 1 to about 10 I admired my father and all he did. He's an amazing cook and he taught me a lot of the things I still use today like that the first thing you do after a shower is put on deodorant and your underwear on and that you can make a paper plane out of basically anything. My dad was one of my biggest inspirations and my biggest cheerleaders. I like to think that still today he's one of my biggest cheerleaders but things have greatly changed in the last eight years or so.
When I was in the fifth grade I transferred from a private school to a semi private school which was a total culture shock because I had been at the same school for my entire life. That's beside the point. I made the transition and all was going well, until one day my brother were in our schools after school program and got a call from the main office that our mother was in the main office and ready to pick us up. Which first of all was completely weird because my mother always picks us up in the front and she had't told us we were being picked up early, which she always did.
That day everything came crashing down for me. Okay maybe it didn't come crashing down and I'm just being dramatic but it was a big deal for me.
When we reach the main office my mom was inside the counselors office crying, mind you the last time at I had seen my mother cry was when my brother had broken his arm in the 1st grade (he was in 4th grade at that time). I asked her what was wrong and Mrs. Wolff, our counselor, had us take a seat next to our mom and she told us our father had a abusive drug and alcohol problem. This for me was a shock because I had seen my dad drink a beer after work and smoke a cigarette but never did I think it went beyond on that.
From that moment on I really have never seen my dad in the same way as I did before then. My mom always points out that I am the only kid that she has ever seen stop being a daddy's girl and just become completely attached to their mother. The thing is I knew that this was the start of something bigger.
From that moment everything seem to just explode. My brother at one point saw my dad snort cocaine off a flat head screwdriver right before they were meant to leave to buy a video game. After that happened he felt the only place he was safe was telling an administrator at our school and she told our mother. Once that happened my dad was sent to a rehabilitation center for 30 days, he was better for a total of 68 days and then he relapsed.
The reason I thought I would share what my brother had seen was because when it happened and my brother learned what would happen to our dad he started to cry and blame himself for what my father had done. Nothing has ever hurt me more that seen my little brother break down and blame himself for the mistake of a man who was in his mind grown up enough to have children and do whatever he wanted but not grown up enough to face his responsibilities.
Getting to understand what kind of relationship I have with my father is important as well to understand why I act like I do. There is basically no relationship between us two, we both coexist with each other but we don't talk to each other or really deal with each other in any way, I refuse too. My brother forgave him for what he did and still continues to do but I just can't forgive the person who used to mean the world tome just let things fall apart like that. As a result from I don't really become attached to any one, I fell into this increasing depression that later led to self harm and a contemplated suicide (future blog post maybe?), and I have become so good at hiding my feelings I basically don't have any left.
Being that I had such a great childhood and in part that was because of him I don't hate him or think I ever will be able too. But it's still hard to deal with him without feeling anger about what he did to me and his family.
So there it is, the story of my father and I. I felt this was a story that I needed to tell early on because of the way I might address him in future blog posts and really for me, because no one has ever really asked me why I am so angry they have just commented on it and think it's because I hate everything when in reality that's far from the truth.
Well I hope this was worth a read and that this was in someway helpful to you in getting to know me! Thank you for reading! You are all wonderful! Have a great day! xx.
- Brooklyn Rubi
