#Christmas isn't easy when your dad doesn't love you...

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @JenSquard

I tend to segment my life into three sections: Nebraska, Hard Times, and Adulthood.  I lived in Nebraska with the family unit until I was 10.  Life was great then - Mom and Dad were still married, and seemed relatively happy.  My sister and I fought like crazy, but nothing outside the range of normal sisters.  I had friends, and life was good for me.  

Then we moved to Colorado.  It was riThis is my nephew, Gunnar - mostly sums up my brain right now.ght at the beginning of middle school, so that sucked but I make friends easily.  Not long after we moved here, like six months, my parents told us they were getting a divorce.  Lame sauce, but not the end of the world.  It was an ugly divorce, and it ended in split custody, basically fifty-fifty, just staggered poorly.  Things were great for a while, then my dad got...weird.

See, my dad is a weird dude.  He thinks that the world revolves around him (he’s totally an only child), and that he can get away with just about whatever he wants.  He is also an angry man.  When I was 11 he started talking to me about crazy things.  One day we were driving around, and he started telling me that marrying my mom was the worst mistake of his life, and how it totally ruined everything.  I didn’t say much - you don’t argue with my dad, his word is the end all and be all.  He also dropped the bomb that him and my mom only got married because they were pregnant with me.

WHAT?!?!  I was 11!  I don’t think that is something I ever would have calculated, there was no reason ever ever ever to tell me something like that.  Of course I took that to say that I ruined his life.  How else could I take it?  He told me so many other crazy things over the next few years that I just assumed that all dads were terrible people, like how he bought a tire bomb to put under my mom’s car.  Or how awesome his new girlfriend was because she was short - meaning she wouldn’t have to get on her knees to give him head (totally said that to me when I was 14).

What sticks with me, though, is the abuse he liked to inflict.  It wasn’t so much physical, although at times it could certainly qualify as that.  It was the verbal and emotional that left the scars.  And totally fucked me up for a long time.  I wasn’t allowed to have friends or boyfriends.  I had to keep everything perfect - chores before homework, always.  I made every meal, and took care of my sister.  I wasn’t allowed to fix my hair or look nice because I would be accused of trying to pick up on guys.  I was 12.  I got grounded if I didn’t like something he bought me, like the super sweet pair of purple Rockies jeans.  See photo.  Not my style then or ever.  Ugh.

I guess where this is all coming from is Christmas.  I’m not really into it this year, for the first time in years and years.  And I think that’s a healthy thing for me.  Christmas was never really a big deal at his house.  We would get bullshit gifts, like shampoo, socks and cans of food.  Like normal needed to survive stuff.  It was just another day, not a big deal at all, really.  So I have spent the last 10 years trying to make Christmas into a supersized extravaganza for everyone.  I always spend too much, over extend myself, make a million things, and try to get everyone into the spirit.  This year I haven’t done anything.  No decorations, no presents bought, and barely anything planned to be made.  I have some ideas, but no real time or motivation to do it.  And while part of me feels bummed to be that guy, part of me feels really good that I can let go of the things I was missing, and just enjoy the things I now have.  I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that my dad just sucks and doesn’t want to be a part of my life.  I don’t know that I will ever be able to fully accept it, but I am getting there.  And not getting jazzed about Christmas is a step in the right direction.  I’m still feeling way raw, but someday I will be able to celebrate the holidays without baggage.  I hope.

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