Men That Have Hurt MeJust sitting here thinking about how just about every man in my life has hurt me in some way. Because of this, I hate most men. The only men I like are fictional characters in movies or dramas. I know there have to be some good men out there, but I believe they are very rare.
First of all, there's my dad. I barely remember him paying any attention to me, or showing me any affection. I always thought he was a shy man, but maybe he was just cold, I don't know anymore. When I got lot older, he barely ever spoke to me. He didn't care what was going on in my life. I could have graduated high school, and maybe went to college if he had continued to send me to the only school I ever liked, Westwood Traditional. But he only sent me there for one year, the year I was supposed to be bused. Why did he even care if I was bused anyway? I doubt now if it was because he was scared what would happen to me in a rougher school downtown. It was probably just because of his prejudice against blacks.
So instead, I had to go to a school where kids were cruel to me almost every single day I went. I was mentally tortured every day. I cried almost every morning. I know he must have heard me crying, and my mom pleading with me to know what was wrong. All he had to do was pay for me to go back to the private school. But he didn't care what I was going through.
Then fast forward to after my mom left my dad, and I went with her. He got his own house, and I would take my baby daughter over for him to keep with his girlfriend on weekends. They enjoyed having her, and always seemed to have a good time taking her places, and spending time with her. I wasn't perfect then, I drank on the weekends, and partied alot. But I never once let my children do without, they always came first. I never did drugs, or let them go hungry so I could party. There were a handful of times, when I was desperate for money for medicine, or a light bill, or something like that, and I had to ask my dad for money. Usually it was $20.00, and maybe around a $100 for a bill. I would say that all together, the debt I owed to my dad was probably not over $700-800 total. This was because most of the time I would rather have walked through fire before I would ask my dad for money. Since we didn't talk much anyway, it was a very very hard thing for me to do. So I only asked when I was totally desperate.
The last time I asked for money was one Christmas, around 10 or 11 years ago. Brad was broke as usual, and there was going to be no money for the kids presents. I hated to do it, and since I was too scared to ask over the phone or in person, I wrote my dad a long letter, explaining that I needed money for presents for the kids. I didn't ask for a certain amount, I said, "whatever you can spare". He sent back a cruel letter, said that the only family he considered was my brother. He also said he hoped the money was really for the kids and not for "some damn fool thing". That hurt so much, because I had never once asked him for money for a "damn fool thing". So along with the letter, was a check for $500.00. I cashed the check, and bought the kids Christmas. I did not call and tell him thank you, and I didn't send a letter saying thank you either. I was angry, and didn't think he deserved a thank you after that. I guess I only made myself look bad by doing that. At one time, I had saved up all the receipts, and I was going to send him a letter, with a copy of the receipts, and say "look, it really went for the kids". But I never got around to it.
After that, I never saw him again. Years later, someone sent a letter saying my dad had cancer, and they thought I needed to know. So my mom got in touch with my dad's old business partner, and asked him if my dad wanted to see me and the kids. They got back in touch with us, and said my dad said he had lost his hair and everything from chemo-treatments, and so he didn't want to see anyone. I know now, that it was just us he didn't want to see.
Then 2 years ago, my brother shows up on Christmas night, and said my dad had died earlier that day. Never mind, that I had not seen my brother in years either, because he chose to disown our mother, because she left daddy. Even though he knows daddy had been seeing other women for years, and how controlling he was of mommy. Even our cousin said my brother used to complain to him how much he hated our dad. How he could ever disown our mother I don't know.
My dad's crazy ex-girlfriend somehow found our number, and she calls to tell mommy that she talked to daddy 2 weeks before he died, and that he had said he was leaving everything to my brother, and that he didn't care if he ever saw me or my kids ever again. Guess she thought that was fun to do, punish me for something, I don't know. Then my brother says that my mom can't come to the memorial service, because my dad's girlfriend would be there, and all the family thought so much of her, and wouldn't want her to be uncomfortable. Well, I guess he didn't realize that it is fairly common for ex spouses to go their ex's funeral. Never mind that they had been married for 30 years. So, as much as it hurt my mom, she took me and the kids, and waited in the van until it was over. I should not have went. I felt like a stranger there, and no one really made me feel like I was family. I could feel the tension, no one wanted me there.
No contact after that was never made to me about a will or anything. Months and months later, my mom picked up a copy of the will from the courthouse. The will said "I purposely make no provisions for my daughter". He left everything to my brother. A final slap in the face I guess. I guess he wanted to make sure he hurt me even after he was gone. And why? The only thing I had ever done to him was ask him for money a few times. So I guess he hated me for being poor. I guess he wanted to condemn me for that. All in all, it can honestly be said that my dad never loved me, and that he hated me. Do I care? I'm not sure, I have tears in my eyes as I write this. Because I am totally confused as to why so many people hate me. Why do people always try to hurt me? All the men in my life have betrayed and hurt me. I don't miss my dad. I don't remember him ever loving me, so why would I miss him? I am just hurt because I should have had a dad who cared
about me, and about what happened to me. I miss some imaginary dad that I never had.
My brother hurt me, by being the way he is. By disowning our mother, and by not telling me about the will. He knows I have 4 children, and that I have to struggle to live. He knows Brad left us without a dime to our names. He could have given me something, but the fact is, he doesn't care either. It hurts me, that there are not that many people out there who care about us.
Then there's Brad. We got together when Punkin was only 2, he should have loved her as his own. She was such a beautiful baby, she could have melted anyone's heart. I guess not his. Then we had 3 children together. So he just decides to up and leave us one day, with NOTHING. Didn't' care if we were thrown out on the street, didn't care if the kids had food and clothes. The only thing he cares about were his ******. I could write forever on all the things he has has done, but I would have to write a novel. But I will write some of the "better" ones. The time when Punkin was 3 years old, and he was eating the last piece of chocolate cake. She was crying because she wanted it. He got mad, and threw the cake out the front door. Then there's the time that we were having a cookout, and family was over. Punkin was sitting on the stairs crying because she stepped on a needle. He was screaming at her to shut up, and was going to grab her ankle and pull her down the stairs until a relative stopped him. Then there was the time he came home drunk, and had bought KFC. he drops a bunch of chicken wings out on the ground, it was covered in leaves and dirt, and screamed at me because I wouldn't eat it. I could come up with so much more, but I don't even want to go through all of it now.
I think it's a good thing that he did leave. We don't have to walk around the house on eggshells anymore, scared that someone is going to **** him off. I have to work my butt off trying to make money to leave, but it's much better than him being here, yelling at everyone for the slightest thing. One of the things that really bugs me is, that all of his sisters think he is a saint. They think he does no wrong, and they think it's okay that he doesn't send one penny for child support. I don't know if he is lying to them about us, or what, but I doubt it. They probably just think it's okay. I hate them for that. I hate that they don't care what me and my kids have went through. His sister has had nerve to ask if the kids called him on his birthday, or on Father's Day. Never mind that he nerve calls to see if anyone needs anything. Never mind that he dozen't buy birthday or Christmas presents. Never mind that he dozen't always call on their birthdays. For 3 years he didn't call them on b-days. Then on the 4th year or so, he called a couple of them. Now, he claims he has always called them every time. He loves to make himself look good in front of his family. I hate him and his family. I hate what they have put us through.
All the boyfriends I had before I met Brad, always treated me like crap. It isn't even worth going through all of them to say what they had done.
So, like I said, all the men in my life have hurt me somehow. There is no man out there for me. There never was. I might as well have "doormat" wrote on my forehead, or a kick me sign taped to my back. The good rare men out there are reserved for beautiful women, whether or not they are good women or not. Sad thing is, men don't want a good woman, they want a *****.
I just wanted to type this all out. Because sometimes, when I'm working, my mind is thinking about things.
You know, after I wrote all of this, I sat back and reread it. I tried reading it as if it were someone else. If someone else reads it, they are going to think that I'm some selfish brat, or some kind of trailor trash. Because I didn't elaborate my feelings too much, or give many details. And because I sound angry The truth is, I'm bitter toward people in general. I don't like being that way, but I am. I'm full of negativity now. My heart has been completly tore open, and now it's all dried up. The only people I love our my mom and my children. I do have a cousin that I'm fond of. But everyone else has hurt me so bad. I never had any friends while growing up. There were 2 or 3 people who were supposed to be my friends, but they were never there for me. As an adult, I have no friends now either. I am thankful to God for all the blessings he has given me. I don't take those things for granted. But I have been hurt so much.
All through school I was tortured by kids in school. I was very shy, and so I was bullied. I was actually a pretty girl then, but at that time I thought I was hideous, because why else would I be treated like that. Now, I really am hideous, and overweight. But back then, I was beautful, and I wasted those years, because lack of self-esteem. But I am a good daughter, a good mother, and a hard worker. I don't drink, and I don't do drugs.
My biggest problem is my bitterness I feel, and my severe social phobia. Things I will have to live with. I continue to let people walk over me. I never say anything to them. I just let them. I hope God isn't angry at me for my distrust in people, and for my bitterness at the world. I am just rambling now. I've been up all night, and I think I just need to go to bed.