Picking Scabs

My father called me this morning on my cell phone and invited himself over. I told him I wouldn't be home from work until 4:30, so he of course said that he would be at my house at 4:30. I'll have no time to decompress from work, or belt back a couple strong drinks...he'll just be there. In my face. In my home. In my life. Ugh.

My father and I have had a troubled relationship at best. This is actually the case with both of my parents who both suffer from a variety of mental problems. My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. My father is a compulsive liar. He's also the most selfish person in the world. I like to tell people that I was raised by wolves...it's not that far from the truth, and frankly wolves are probably more nurturing.

Anyway, my father left when I was 11. That part is good. I was much happier once he left. I hated all the fighting. They fought in whispers when they thought I was sleeping and it made for a very stressful childhood. Once they separated I no longer had a divorce or the fighting to worry about, and it was actually better for me. My father moved to Texas and my mother had sole custody of me. He really only called me once a month if I was lucky. I had to spend a month there in the summer, per the custody arrangements. He didn't take any time off work for my visit, so I spent a month every summer at his house in Texas alone watching television. It was a very lonely way to spend my summer vacation. He was the king of broken promises, which is a big deal to a little girl. He promised to come up and visit me for my golden (13th) birthday. We made plans to go out to dinner, he gave me a time that he would come and pick me up for my birthday celebration. I sat on the front steps of my mother's house for a couple of hours before I accepted the fact that he wasn't coming. My birthday is October 13th, and I didn't hear from him, not even a phone call until November 15th.

I tried to let bygones be bygones. I am an adult now, and don't need parents to take care of me anymore. He's old, and has had a couple of heart attacks and a stroke. The problem is every time I try to forgive and move on, he fucks up again. Two years ago, I was in the midst of my own health problems. I had just gone through 2 miscarriages in the span of 4 months. (I didn't bother to tell either of my parents) I had just been diagnosed with a genetic clotting/autoimmune disorder. My father told me he had cancer. My friend died five years ago of cancer, so I'm pretty well versed in cancer terms, treatments, etc. His story didn't add up, but I felt guilty doubting him, because who would lie about something like that?!? Well, I kept asking questions, and he kept having answers that didn't make sense. Finally I told him that when he came up for Christmas, I would take him to the Mayo Clinic for a second opinion. Well, guess what? Turns out he didn't have cancer. He claimed they ran a new test and he didn't have it. He lied about it and played this out for about 4 months until he realized he was about to be discovered in his own web of lies. Some people are just toxic to be around. They rob you of your energy and kill a little bit of your soul every time you let them in. My parents are toxic to me.

So, would anyone like to adopt a 36 year old girl? I am kind, generous, loving, funny (can be a little snarky) still sort of cute, won't ask for money, or move back home....all I ask is that you aren't fucking nuts. That's not a lot, is it?