Did you know that you can put stints in the arteries of your heart that are 99% clogged, but you can't do anything when all of your major blood pumping heart vessels have minor blockage? That when that is the case you can't reverse it, you can only prevent it from getting worse? That bypass surgery would be of little use because it's not like you can just up and rebuild all of your arteries? Did you know that you can have 4 stints in your heart, diabetes, a skin disease that's basically eating away at your legs, and a host of other problems and still not care about losing weight and getting healthy? Did you know that stints aren't as easy an option for women as they are for men because women's arteries are smaller? Did you know that Prednisone can raise your blood pressure causing you to have a heart attack and raise your blood sugar to the upper 300's? Did you know that when you have a heart attack it goes not only up your arm, but also through to your jaw? Or that, though common sense would tell us otherwise, it's not something worth going to the hospital for? Or that you can have a wife, three children and two grandchildren and still not be able to find a reason to change your life and be healthy?
These are just a few of the lessons my dad has taught me. I can't say I know how to change a tire or drive a stick shift, but I do know where my dad's nitro pills are and when I need to run and get them. I've never been taught how it is that I should be treated by a man, I've grown up believing that my dad never thought I could even get a man. I have been taught, however, that hearing the words "You're a worthless piece of shit. You'll never amount to anything." will stick with you for your entire life. My dad has never lead by example on how to be healthy, he has only preached to me about things he won't do himself. He's quick to point out my do's and don'ts on dieting all from the comfort of his recliner. I've been taught that your eyes can be wide open to the failing health of your best friend and the reasons behind it, but still be blind to the fact that you are walking down the same path.
My father taught me that, though disowning each other was the right choice for he and his dad, forgiveness is the right choice for me. My father taught me that the ways in which you fail your child when they are young can be made up for when they are older. My father taught me that, in some ways, people CAN change...if they want to. My father taught me that a daughter can turn her childhood into 360+ pounds and a son will take the same childhood and turn it into anger and bitterness. My father taught me how to fish, but won't be around to teach my children how because, though he also taught me how important family is, he also taught me that they aren't important enough to live for. Maybe my brother will have to teach them. My brother will probably also have to walk me down the aisle some day because my dad will likely not be around for that either. At the rate he's going, he won't even see me FINALLY get a college degree.
I don't know if my dad is proud of me because he never tells me. I'm told he brags about me to other people, but he never tells me. I don't know if my dad thinks I'm pretty, but I do know he thinks I'm fat. I don't know if he still thinks I'm worthless or if I've actually amounted to something in his eyes. I do know that when I was young I was scared to death of my dad and now I'm scared to death that he's going to die. I know that I'm angry. I'm angry that the things he's always bitching about are things he has the power to change. I'm angry that his heart condition and his diabetes are likely going to kill him before cancer will get the chance and those are two things that he could remedy significantly if he would just lose weight. I'm angry that he can judge me for my weight and make me feel so terrible about mine when he is dying from his. I'm angry because, at the age of 32, I have to resign myself to the fact that my dad is going to die simply because he is content to do so. I'm angry because I try EVERY DAY to change my life and every day I watch him give up on his. I'm angry because the last lesson my dad will teach me is how to quit.
(Note to those that know my dad: printing this and using it as some sort of intervention method would not be wise and only make me stop writing as honestly as I do)
These are just a few of the lessons my dad has taught me. I can't say I know how to change a tire or drive a stick shift, but I do know where my dad's nitro pills are and when I need to run and get them. I've never been taught how it is that I should be treated by a man, I've grown up believing that my dad never thought I could even get a man. I have been taught, however, that hearing the words "You're a worthless piece of shit. You'll never amount to anything." will stick with you for your entire life. My dad has never lead by example on how to be healthy, he has only preached to me about things he won't do himself. He's quick to point out my do's and don'ts on dieting all from the comfort of his recliner. I've been taught that your eyes can be wide open to the failing health of your best friend and the reasons behind it, but still be blind to the fact that you are walking down the same path.
My father taught me that, though disowning each other was the right choice for he and his dad, forgiveness is the right choice for me. My father taught me that the ways in which you fail your child when they are young can be made up for when they are older. My father taught me that, in some ways, people CAN change...if they want to. My father taught me that a daughter can turn her childhood into 360+ pounds and a son will take the same childhood and turn it into anger and bitterness. My father taught me how to fish, but won't be around to teach my children how because, though he also taught me how important family is, he also taught me that they aren't important enough to live for. Maybe my brother will have to teach them. My brother will probably also have to walk me down the aisle some day because my dad will likely not be around for that either. At the rate he's going, he won't even see me FINALLY get a college degree.
I don't know if my dad is proud of me because he never tells me. I'm told he brags about me to other people, but he never tells me. I don't know if my dad thinks I'm pretty, but I do know he thinks I'm fat. I don't know if he still thinks I'm worthless or if I've actually amounted to something in his eyes. I do know that when I was young I was scared to death of my dad and now I'm scared to death that he's going to die. I know that I'm angry. I'm angry that the things he's always bitching about are things he has the power to change. I'm angry that his heart condition and his diabetes are likely going to kill him before cancer will get the chance and those are two things that he could remedy significantly if he would just lose weight. I'm angry that he can judge me for my weight and make me feel so terrible about mine when he is dying from his. I'm angry because, at the age of 32, I have to resign myself to the fact that my dad is going to die simply because he is content to do so. I'm angry because I try EVERY DAY to change my life and every day I watch him give up on his. I'm angry because the last lesson my dad will teach me is how to quit.
(Note to those that know my dad: printing this and using it as some sort of intervention method would not be wise and only make me stop writing as honestly as I do)
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4 comments:
I am glad you came here and put your feelings down. I can also relate to part of your issues. My father despises weight of any kind and he is skinny as a rail. His children were a burden and in the way of him leading "his own life". SO, some of these things I understand. I want you to know you are not alone. I still struggle with my father and its something you just have to work through. We cannot control them, but we can control ourselves. Good luck and keep the faith.
so raw, so honest... just bitchen
I bet that felt good to write down.
Stay strong
I can so totally relate. Thanks for writing this. I missed your posts.
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