The days went by and things never changed. The fighting was constant, and was never ending. There were days where they would start fights over the dumbest of things just so that they can keep fighting. Mom didn’t like doing it in front us of, but there were days where she couldn’t control it. I knew about the abuse, and the pushing around. But I never let my mom know that I knew. I wish that I did. Because then maybe all this would have ended sooner.

Dad would come home drunk more often, or just never leave the house and have me go downstairs to get him more drinks. It started turning into a routine that you just got used to. It got even worse when he would smoke about 2 packs a day. Mom would try keep us from seeing our father this way but it became nearly impossible when she had to go to work and we had to be at his beck and call 24/7.The only times that we were allowed to leave was mom came back home from work because he had someone new to push and shove around. She wanted to get out, and get us out too, until she became pregnant with Paige. So she ended up staying longer because she didn’t want to hurt us kids and tear our family apart. Even though you can slowly see this relationship drain her from the inside out. Slowly but surely. 

The final breaking point was after Paige was born. A couple months or weeks after she was born, (I can’t remember exactly) but Paige ended up back in the hospital. My father ended up overdosing on Oxycodone and hurting her. I never knew this until I overheard my mom and grandma talking about it when I was older. And I tricked my grandma into telling me what happened without her actually knowing it.  Mom finally divorced him and he was gone. He didn’t even put up a fight to see us. Didn’t care.

We would never hear from him unless he would call us. But he would only call us when he got locked up again and needed money. He thought that we would always be there for him and that his secrets would never come out. Or that I would at least not figure them out. After he got of jail for what seems like the 100th time, he would text us saying we should forgive him. But when I told him no the last thing he ever said was, “You guys are dead to me. Don’t talk to me again unless you are willing to forgive.” Ironically we got a text message from someone we didn’t know saying that he died himself from a battle with cancer and a heart attack. When tried to figure out this story ourselves to see what actually happened, we found out that he faked the whole thing. All he wanted was attention from people and to get sympathy. He tried to play it out like it was some big joke that we were never supposed to find out. And this wasn’t the first time that he tried pulling this stunt.

I haven’t seen, spoke, or asked for anything from him in about 8 years. And those have been some of the best 8 years of my life.

When you finally get rid of someone in your life that has been so toxic, and half of the time not even mentally there with you. It was one of the best feelings that you can possibly have in your life. You finally get to move on and be happy without someone pulling you back down and making their problems yours. You get to experience things the way they are supposed to be experienced. And you begin to feel that true happiness that you no longer have to fake in front of people to make it seem like you are okay. It takes some time to get to that truly happy nothing can hold you back feeling. But once you finally get there you can truly appreciate it, and will never take anything for granted later on in life.