Just Post

Growing up, my dad had this whole attitude where he's god in his house. And since I'm 7 years old, my opinions don't matter.

Well. He didn't just treat me like that. That's who he is. Nobody wants to be around him. His wife left him. He has no friends. His mom died, because she was 103 (lovely woman, and actually my hero in life). His sister died (cancer). His other sister moved to florida after her husband died, but my dad just yells at her anytime they talk, so she doesn't call him anymore.

His other sister takes after their mom, and is therefore a saint of a woman. He yells at her everytime she calls, and somehow she still drives him around town. She still takes care of him. She does waaaaaay more than I would.

As for me? I'm the one he tormented the worst. My mom delt with his shit for 7 years. She could (and did) leave him. I couldn't. I was a kid.

Now I'm in my 40s. I remember as a kid thinking when I was older I would laugh and push him down when he got old. But in reality, I just feel this weird mix of feeling sorry for him, and feeling triumphant over him. He's only 75ish, yet his body is so broken down it's like he's 90. He lives alone in a rat infested house because he won't let anyone help him.

This is what always being right looks like.

You're not right. You're just so stuborn that nobody is willing to talk to you.