Why I Didn 't Don 't You Love Me? Essay

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

He would come home wasted after weeks of not being home; of me wondering where my father had been all those weeks. Staying up late on school nights just wishing for him to come home and tuck me in bed, to tell me he loved me, to ask me how my day was, or just tell me that he was there to stay. As a first grader it is hard to explain to your friends why they can not come to your house to play just knowing that if he is there that he will be drunk yelling at my mom for nothing. It got to the point to where he would come home after a few days and grab a suitcase and leave to go with his new girlfriend for a few days or even weeks. Right before he would leave I would always have hope that he would tell me where he was going or take me with him. I just wanted a father. My mother always told me that he would be back and to have hope; to always trust in her and that she would always be there for me. She was always my rock when I was younger. Until one day she finally told me what a monster the man I called my dad was. He was an abuser, physically and mentally. She told me the truth about the man that I wished was in my life for so long. He never wanted me. I was the youngest out

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

When I woke up in the morning, my mom had left for work. My dad was singing in the kitchen, banging pots around. I got up, tiptoed down the hall, washed my face. A neatly wrapped present lay on the bathroom counter. It was addressed to me. I stuffed it into my robe pocket, and rushed back down the hall. Under the covers, I opened the package. On the first page of a small, leather notebook, an inscription read: to a writer, love your mother. I never wrote anything in the notebook. I could never think of anything good

My oldest brother was hammering on the door, shouting to open it. While I stood there, frozen in fear that this moment in time would never end. He asked why my brother and I didn’t want to be with him, what had he done wrong, how could he make things better? Next he tried to persuade me to come live with him, that he would “change,” but I knew that would never happen with him and he would go straight to being a patriarchal dick of a father that would threaten his children with a

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

I wanted to say sorry for not contacting you since the night we sat in the forest together. I have a reason, but it may sound insane. You see i’m afraid. Afraid i’m going to hurt you, and turn out to be like my father. I am about to tell you my deepest secret that I have been too scared to tell anyone. You see, my father, he used to beat my mother and would scream out words of profanity while smashing empty bottles against the ground. One day my father came home in the dead of night. I remember the thudding of his boots, and the sounds of screaming from my mother telling him to leave and never come back. I don’t remember much after other than the 3 gun shots that ranging, the sound that told me my mother was gone from my life for good. The policemen took my father away to prison, and I remember the look in his eyes. He was no longer a man, father, or a human he was nothing but a monster. After they took him away my grandparents took me in but they could only see the part of my father that lived inside of me, the monster. They sent me away to an asylum. I returned last year. See Jade i’m scared that my grandparents were right. That part of my father lives inside of me, and that's why you need to stay away from me, I couldn’t live with the pain of hurting you. Just know I meant everything I said to you.

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “Joe,” my dad hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds scared.” As I treaded down stairs to pick up the phone, I was nervous. Jackie usually never calls me on the phone unless it’s something serious, and my dad telling me she sounded scared made it worse. Approximately 30 minutes passed at Jackie whips her silver Mustang convertible into our driveway, and Jackie was leaning on the horn before the car came to a complete stop. Grabbing my coat from the couch, I sprinted out my front door faster than i’ve ran in my whole life. I got immediately in her car and we drove away. I’ve never seen Jackie so scared in my life. She was driving at least 20 miles over

The next morning, I was dropped off at what at the time we called “dad’s house”. He was making breakfast. Burnt eggs and burnt bacon with probably expired milk. I always graded him with and A for effort. He explained to us that every other day and every other weekend will be spent with our mom. I questioned whether or not that was he wanted, his tone was disappointed. Did he want to see us less? Or more? Or not want our mom to see

I longed to spend time with my father. One night after school, I went up to my Dad nervously not knowing how he would react and ask him if he would like to play checkers with me, like we normally did. Following this, he screamed at me, told me to go to my room, and told me to leave him alone. I went to my room full of sadness and emotional pain feeling betrayed by

At first I thought fathers protect you, help you, and love you, but I never knew that they ignore you for beer or even abandon you with a lie… a simple lie. To leave you, your Mom and sibling … hopeless. That was my darkest time of my life, or was it?

He looks at me and says,” we are going to the school and look at your wreck.” I get into his red Toyota Corolla and we head off to Croatan high school it was a quiet trip no radio was on just silence. We get to the school we park behind my wrecked car and we both get out of the car I get out his tool bag out of the trunk. My dad starts looking at the car and figured out what happened without me explaining what happened. So we started figuring out how we get the bumper free from the metal frame and after about 20 minutes of fight it we cut out some of the light wiring holding the lights in. It came off 10 minutes later with a lot of pulling it surprisingly we didn’t break the bumper more than it already was. I throw the bumper into the trunk I ask my dad, “Do you think I will be okay driving without any headlights.” He replies,” No you would get pulled over very quick.” I reply,” How do you want me to get this home.” Which he said, “well you’re going to go slow and I will follow right behind you with my flashers on.” So I said, “okay” and started my car and started to leave and head home. All I could say after this is do not get into wrecks it’s not

I was born July 18, 2001 at Virginia Baptist Hospital. My mother had just recently turned 17 and my father was a 21 year old with two children already. It was my fourth birthday when he walked out on me and my mom. At first he’d still come around and see me but eventually the visits got shorter and further a part. Now I only see him twice a year, when he takes me to his family reunion and on my birthday, when he takes me to Kings Dominion.

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through everything that could possibly put me in emotional distress. I’ve been down a broken road with my father, the man I love so much I’ll make every excuse for whenever he disappoints me. I’ve encountered life where it’s not so enjoyable due to unacceptance and never ending judgment by my biggest critic, my mother, the woman whom I should feel most secure with. However despite the emotional mounds of pain these matters carry, I was able to lift the suffocating weight long enough to realize everything that burdened me, made me strong enough to have the will power to be independent and make life changing decisions on my own. At three years old, I met my biological father in a local supermarket’s parking lot; I remember vividly, the exact moment when this stranger held me in his broad, strong arms. I recall screaming at an immense volume not even laying eyes on him. All I had been focused on was finding my mother, the woman who played both parental roles in my life. This clearly justified the great state of confusion I was in in his presence since I wasn’t at all aware I even had a father. As I grew older, the visits to my father’s house became the norm and having begun developed a “best friend” type of relationship with him, I found myself crying more and more when I had to go back to my mom’s settlement. I never wanted to leave; my life became filled with happiness, filled with a father’s love I had never felt

When I was young my mother and my father both had very different opinions on how you should raise a child. And since my father was the one paying the bills and bringing home the paychecks for a few years, I didn’t really get to see him much because he worked all day. So my mother was the one who raised me for the most part. At the time she would spoil me like crazy. If I asked for something the answer would always be yes, and if I didn’t get my way I would start having a fit until she finally caved in. You could’ve called me a crybaby, go ahead I would’ve said the same thing. Because I was. My father’s best friend who had two twins both the same age as me invited me, my father and my mother over to there place for an easter egg hunt easter morning. During the easter egg hunt, me and my friend both turned a corner at the same time. He saw an egg and as he was going to grab it, I saw it and tried to get it also. He got there before me and I started to have a fit right there and then. I could remember my mother rushing up to see what’s wrong. After I told her what had happened she got me to stop crying and gave me extra candy. My dad knew that by her raising me like this I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere in life without someone being there whenever something went wrong, so he told her to take the candy back and to tell me to get over it and that not everything in life will be fair. She took that the wrong way and got mad at my dad for “not being a good parent” because didn’t