HOME | DD

Description
I was not the problem like you were not the cause
We're sinking on a ship we said we'd jump two weeks before
And I'll admit my subsequent words had no force
I had every intention just to leave you at the door
My mundane future was tugging at my sleeve
Of babies and changings and midnight feeds
If every father in the world thought the same as me
What a state, what a state, what a state...

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

It was causing an effect
You said you'd kill it, you haven't yet
Staring at a bed we shared as friends
And you stop smoking just to try for a while
While I provoke your nicotine habit, a habit
Standing holding hands just as friends there's no love
With no love this world would surely end
The world's end is no place to start life, we'd start a trend
And I could not forgive you for that
What a state
What a state...
What a state
Why don't you stay?

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

Your father tried to knock some sense into me
He goes, "After all, a man is just a man"
As I recall he thumped your mom bloody hardy and bloody hung
Parenthood was a belt buckle to him
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay...oh...

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

Fictional State - To Kill a King

***WARNING***
EMOTIONAL CONTENT
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

This is it guys, where it all started, and maybe where it ends, too.
This is undoubtedly a vent post, but I am not crying, or tearing myself apart.
It is quiet, but eroding me little by little. I decided to make it stop.

My parents were always friends. That's it. Mom always says they loved each other once, but I don't buy it. I don't think you can just fall out of love with someone, no matter how shitty you are. I believe that you're either in love, or you're not, or you're just desperately lying to yourself in some futile attempt at happiness. My opinion, feel free to disagree but I will not change my mind.

I was product of an an alcoholic man with an affinity for math, and a hysterical women who spent most of her time with her creative, yet useless hobbies. My father drank himself to hostility and my mother tried to bury it under the rug. Despite his poor habits though, he was always the favored parent. That shitty, job-hopping slob, was the one I loved, the one I spent all my time with this, all while my mother stood aside. She was always there when my dad disappeared into his bedroom of beer and cigarettes- I think this is why my mother is so shitty now. Her daughter sought after the disgusting father while she did all the work and genuinely cared, and then when he leaves, she was the center of the blame. I wish I never blamed her.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Through all those years, as shitty as my dad was, I was convinced he cared for me. He disappeared. For six months, he dropped off the radar, after drunkenly spewing the threat, "If you don't let me stay in this house, I will slaughter you both like pigs.", "both" referencing my mother and I, on Christmas eve 2011. Albeit, I didn't find out about the threat until much later, naive little me pinned the threat to his lack of sobriety and nothing more. I ignored his criminal record. I ignored the times he hit me when mom wasn't home. I ignored it all, just because I couldn't believe that daddy dearest wasn't a good person.

So, time passed, and mom and I eventually found out he moved back with his mother in California. We called once a day, then once a week, a month, and finally, only occasionally on holidays. He promised to come home about 15 times over a span of 4 1/2 years, and kept his promise once. I can honestly still say, despite what I see in him now, that was still easily the happiest week in my whole life. When he left, we didn't hear from him for a long time.

Today, he's been gone 6 1/2. The last day of February this year, my mom and I decided to cut contact with him, and I agreed. He wasn't answering us, anyway, so we gave up. I blocked his number and social media, and my mom did the same. It hurt, it did, but I knew it was better. I spent those 6 long years destroying myself over him. Hating him, myself, my mother, everything, so I knew this would be the right decision, but I think the honest deciding factor to this, was that somehow, despite his shittiness, that he still cared about me. If we loved each other, we could let each other go.

That was how I've coped for two months. "He still loves you, just a bit. Maybe one day, you two will reunite, and fix everything. But for now, we must part. We need time." I wish I wasn't so naive. I'm 16, 17 in a month, and I've grown up with a shitty set of parents, 8 sisters, the only two I know are druggies and alcoholics, and bullied most of my childhood, and yet, somehow, I'm still overwhelmingly forgiving, naive, and optimistic, I hate it. Some people think those are good traits to have. Not in this world. It's killing me.

My mom changed her number a few days ago, and gave in, and texted my father, to see if he would respond. He did. All that time he wasn't responding to calls or text, he wasn't busy, or hurt, or in prison again. No. He was avoiding us.

He didn't know it was my mom, so she asked a few things. He's been with a lady, his girlfriend, and has been working. Things were going good.

He caught on, though.

The last text he sent was, "I want nothing to do with you, Marie, or Summer anymore."

That was it.

I was broken.

It hurt a lot.

All my hope was gone.

I didn't have a father.

I was hollowed out.

At first I was horribly upset, and then I was mad.

But in the end, I was bitter cold.

A cold, dry, bitterness.

In some ways, it was nice. I wasn't breaking down in my room, tearing my hair out and cutting again. But it hurt. Physical pain in my chest because I was so bottled up. It was like I couldn't breathe, but the air was coming in and out, yet it still hurt.

It's still here, too. I let out a lot on Thursday. Came clean to a lot feelings and problems I'm going through, things I haven't and have decided not to list here. But it's not enough, so I decided to do some art.

It still hurts, expectedly, but I'm better.
This is beneath me.
My father is beneath me.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

END OF EMOTIONAL CONTENT

Anway, that photo in the middle is a messy painting of an old photo of my dad and I
Painting: sta.sh/02dbomu7rvbt
Photo: sta.sh/0wnrlwrp10t

I hope you guys like the art. If you have any questions on the story with my father, I can fill in the gaps. I only told the most relevant events.
If ANY of you are going through anything like this, or anything at ALL, PLEASE do not hesitate to talk to me. I am always here to help, I've devoted my life to helping people when possible. You are not alone. You are strong. You can do anything.

Description
I was not the problem like you were not the cause
We're sinking on a ship we said we'd jump two weeks before
And I'll admit my subsequent words had no force
I had every intention just to leave you at the door
My mundane future was tugging at my sleeve
Of babies and changings and midnight feeds
If every father in the world thought the same as me
What a state, what a state, what a state...

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

It was causing an effect
You said you'd kill it, you haven't yet
Staring at a bed we shared as friends
And you stop smoking just to try for a while
While I provoke your nicotine habit, a habit
Standing holding hands just as friends there's no love
With no love this world would surely end
The world's end is no place to start life, we'd start a trend
And I could not forgive you for that
What a state
What a state...
What a state
Why don't you stay?

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

Your father tried to knock some sense into me
He goes, "After all, a man is just a man"
As I recall he thumped your mom bloody hardy and bloody hung
Parenthood was a belt buckle to him
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay?
What a state
Why don't you stay...oh...

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

There's no hole in my head
Accusation: I just ain't the family type
Falling short and you've got better plans
Escape artist and you just undermine

Fictional State - To Kill a King

***WARNING***
EMOTIONAL CONTENT
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

This is it guys, where it all started, and maybe where it ends, too.
This is undoubtedly a vent post, but I am not crying, or tearing myself apart.
It is quiet, but eroding me little by little. I decided to make it stop.

My parents were always friends. That's it. Mom always says they loved each other once, but I don't buy it. I don't think you can just fall out of love with someone, no matter how shitty you are. I believe that you're either in love, or you're not, or you're just desperately lying to yourself in some futile attempt at happiness. My opinion, feel free to disagree but I will not change my mind.

I was product of an an alcoholic man with an affinity for math, and a hysterical women who spent most of her time with her creative, yet useless hobbies. My father drank himself to hostility and my mother tried to bury it under the rug. Despite his poor habits though, he was always the favored parent. That shitty, job-hopping slob, was the one I loved, the one I spent all my time with this, all while my mother stood aside. She was always there when my dad disappeared into his bedroom of beer and cigarettes- I think this is why my mother is so shitty now. Her daughter sought after the disgusting father while she did all the work and genuinely cared, and then when he leaves, she was the center of the blame. I wish I never blamed her.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Through all those years, as shitty as my dad was, I was convinced he cared for me. He disappeared. For six months, he dropped off the radar, after drunkenly spewing the threat, "If you don't let me stay in this house, I will slaughter you both like pigs.", "both" referencing my mother and I, on Christmas eve 2011. Albeit, I didn't find out about the threat until much later, naive little me pinned the threat to his lack of sobriety and nothing more. I ignored his criminal record. I ignored the times he hit me when mom wasn't home. I ignored it all, just because I couldn't believe that daddy dearest wasn't a good person.

So, time passed, and mom and I eventually found out he moved back with his mother in California. We called once a day, then once a week, a month, and finally, only occasionally on holidays. He promised to come home about 15 times over a span of 4 1/2 years, and kept his promise once. I can honestly still say, despite what I see in him now, that was still easily the happiest week in my whole life. When he left, we didn't hear from him for a long time.

Today, he's been gone 6 1/2. The last day of February this year, my mom and I decided to cut contact with him, and I agreed. He wasn't answering us, anyway, so we gave up. I blocked his number and social media, and my mom did the same. It hurt, it did, but I knew it was better. I spent those 6 long years destroying myself over him. Hating him, myself, my mother, everything, so I knew this would be the right decision, but I think the honest deciding factor to this, was that somehow, despite his shittiness, that he still cared about me. If we loved each other, we could let each other go.

That was how I've coped for two months. "He still loves you, just a bit. Maybe one day, you two will reunite, and fix everything. But for now, we must part. We need time." I wish I wasn't so naive. I'm 16, 17 in a month, and I've grown up with a shitty set of parents, 8 sisters, the only two I know are druggies and alcoholics, and bullied most of my childhood, and yet, somehow, I'm still overwhelmingly forgiving, naive, and optimistic, I hate it. Some people think those are good traits to have. Not in this world. It's killing me.

My mom changed her number a few days ago, and gave in, and texted my father, to see if he would respond. He did. All that time he wasn't responding to calls or text, he wasn't busy, or hurt, or in prison again. No. He was avoiding us.

He didn't know it was my mom, so she asked a few things. He's been with a lady, his girlfriend, and has been working. Things were going good.

He caught on, though.

The last text he sent was, "I want nothing to do with you, Marie, or Summer anymore."

That was it.

I was broken.

It hurt a lot.

All my hope was gone.

I didn't have a father.

I was hollowed out.

At first I was horribly upset, and then I was mad.

But in the end, I was bitter cold.

A cold, dry, bitterness.

In some ways, it was nice. I wasn't breaking down in my room, tearing my hair out and cutting again. But it hurt. Physical pain in my chest because I was so bottled up. It was like I couldn't breathe, but the air was coming in and out, yet it still hurt.

It's still here, too. I let out a lot on Thursday. Came clean to a lot feelings and problems I'm going through, things I haven't and have decided not to list here. But it's not enough, so I decided to do some art.

It still hurts, expectedly, but I'm better.
This is beneath me.
My father is beneath me.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

END OF EMOTIONAL CONTENT

Anway, that photo in the middle is a messy painting of an old photo of my dad and I
Painting: sta.sh/02dbomu7rvbt
Photo: sta.sh/0wnrlwrp10t

I hope you guys like the art. If you have any questions on the story with my father, I can fill in the gaps. I only told the most relevant events.
If ANY of you are going through anything like this, or anything at ALL, PLEASE do not hesitate to talk to me. I am always here to help, I've devoted my life to helping people when possible. You are not alone. You are strong. You can do anything.