#je 9

So I’ve been thinking about my brothers dad a lot lately. From age 10-16 I lived in a house with him, my mom, and my little brother. Our relationship was insanely rocky. My mom was with him when I was around 4, then got back together with him when my brother was young, I was maybe 9. My mom helped him clean up his credit, and then they got a house for us.

In the beginning, he was trying to be a good father figure for me. He painted my room pink, and helped decorate it all Tinker Bell, like I wanted at the age 10. So at first, everything was really good. But as I got older, he got nasty. He started coming into my room and moving my pillows, tucking away my PJs I was wearing the night before. It was insanely weird, and more than creepy. 

When I was 16, on Christmas, me and my brother got IPod touches. On New Years Eve, my mom got movies for the family to watch. When I went on my IPod to check something between movies, while my mom was who knows where, my brothers dad absolutely flipped out, said I paid no attention, was on the electronic all night, and raised his fist at me after whipping a pillow at me. My mom flipped out and took me and my brother to my grandmas. By that March, we had moved out into our own apartment, just me, my mom, and my brother

Me and Dan, my brothers dad, fought a lot. He would drink my drinks that were in MY bottle, just to be a dick, and he had insane anger issues. When him and my mom were first breaking up, he came into my room, and told me I was the reason they were breaking up.

It just makes me think about how strong I was, about how much crap I went through during the important years in my life. Its no surprise I am so attention seeking, and why I am so annoying at work, constantly wanting to be heard. I am trying to be a better person, trying not to be making up for all the emotional abuse I had to deal with.

I am lucky I have someone in my life to protect me, someone who can hold me at night. I spent so many nights as a teenager laying awake until midnight, because from 10 ( my bedtime ) to midnight, my mom and Dan would argue. Then finally at midnight, they would go to bed, and I could sleep. Its why I got hooked on caffeine, I was so tired from laying awake... 

Now, when I go home, and I want to sleep, there’s no arguing, there’s no anger, no fear. Coming home to my daddy makes me feel so calm. Makes me feel like I wish I had known how this felt so long ago, then maybe I would have stood up for myself sooner when I was younger. This is what a home should feel like. I was used to holing myself up in my room, never being with my family, because I never felt comfortable, I was scared. At my apartment with my mom, and with my Daddy, I feel safe, comfortable, not scared. Maybe a little anxious about cooking in his moms kitchen, but knowing I wont be judged, or yelled at, or have my personal things touched and moved... its a good feeling. Something I wont ever take for granted.