So today is Father’s Day, today is the day we celebrate the fathers in our lives. Sure, most fathers are great people, and I have enjoyed seeing the father stories from people online and on my social media accounts. Some people who follow me on Facebook and Twitter have even changed their profile picture to their fathers, and they honor them! I am glad to see folks talking about how their fathers and mothers inspired them and helped them grow up the right way. And for most people, they have a lot of great things to say about their fathers and mothers. But for me, I do not have a good story about my father. My father was a very poor parent to me and my brother. So fathers and mothers, if you want to learn about what not to do when raising your kids, this post is for you!

My father is a computer geek, he is really into technology, and I guess that is why I am a geek/nerd today! But other than that, things go downhill. Things started when my father and mother were married, and they began arguing until it went up to a divorce. Now, some kids today will see their father and mother divorce, and it’s not a pretty thing. But the way my mom and dad’s divorce went was bad. My mom and dad had a date in court in front of a divorce judge, and me and my brother sat outside the courtroom while the trial happened. Soon, the judge called me and my brother into his chambers one at a time. The question, which parent I wanted to live with? Seeing how my father was already a bad parent, from the not taking care of us, to playing in front of his computer a lot, to not even helping us with our homework or sporting events, I knew I wanted to go to my mother.

But after the interviews, the judge ruled custody of me and my brother to my father. I guess my father did a wonderful job lying his way about how my mother was a bad person, or this is Alabama, and in the south, some people consider men as the head of the household. Looking back, this was the biggest mistake of the judge’s life! And things go downhill fast! My father began dating and dated several women. I liked some of the women my father was dating, and even one of them saw how I was different (Disabled) and thought I needed some special attention. Some dates even had their own kids, and me and my brother would play games and have some fun with the women’s kids! But every time, the date fell apart, and I never saw those women and kids ever again. Soon, my father landed on his perfect women, and things went to hell.

The women my father landed on had three boys! Meaning there would be five boys in one household. First off, I knew things were weird because my father and his woman got married in a church, while I and the boys stayed home. Second, the other boys began to see how different I really was. At first, the other boys thought I was cool, but that quickly turned sour. The other boys began to pick on me, and it was not the simple being poked at. It was punches, it was kicking, it was calling me bad names, and it was their friends picking on me. It was not simple child play, it was full abuse. My father kept saying he would put a stop to it, but he left it to my stepmother to stop things, which she did not do it. She instead punished me, for screaming for help.

During the time I lived in Alabama, my refuge was the time I got to visit my mother. Relief! No bullies, lots of fun, and a relaxing atmosphere, even if it was for a weekend. But when I returned to my father, it was like returning to hell. Every time I screamed for help because I was being abused, I got sent to my room, while the other boys got a slap on the risk. All while our yard was set on fire and the police investigated my father and stepmother because of a Beanie Babies scam. Soon, we moved from Alabama to Colorado, and I loved Colorado! I got to get away from the house and ride my bike for the entire day, and for miles around! But when I got back home, things were still bad. I was still abused, and blamed for things like throwing eggs at a neighbor’s car, to clogging up the plumbing. Yep, I actually had to one time stick my hand into a toilet, when it was later revealed that it was a tree root. Things got so bad, from being stuck in my room for days at a time, to not getting anything to eat, that I ran away for a day to get away from the situation.

Soon after I returned, they put an alarm on my bedroom door, and I was almost confined into my room all the time. Whenever the family went out to see a movie or go to an event, I was left alone, with the alarm activated. Soon, I was even sent to this special needs school where they give kids timeouts for doing even a simple thing wrong. And they had padded quiet rooms for kids who were out of control. They even had a residential program, and I thought I would be better living there then being at the house. Soon, we moved from Colorado to Michigan, and things kept getting worse. For starters, since I was huge bed wetter, I could not wash my urine soaked sheets, and it began to pile up in my bedroom, the smell was not good.

The abuse got so bad I was even tied up to chairs, and the boys friends tried to chase me down to beat me up on the street. And at school, several kids tried to beat me up as well, one time they even tried to break down a bathroom door while I was using the bathroom. I told all adults what was going on, and they even brought in my father to investigate, but he lied again and nothing happened. My only escapes were to walk the dog or to ride my bike, and I enjoyed those times, but that soon ended. And I was sleeping in the dining room floor, and forced to sit at the dining room table with a video camera trained on me while the family was out of the house, yep! And on vacations, I would be forced to sit in the room for the entire time, while the family was out having fun. For the few times I was not in my room, the other boys did things like jump on top on me and try to drown me in Lake Michigan.

Things got even worse, that while the family had a pizza party for example, I was given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a Paxil pill, and water, and forced back into my room, like I even did not exist. So one day, I did something to try to get out of that environment; I brought a knife to school. I thought being in Juvenile Dentition would be better than living in that house. Although that did not happen, and I was sent to another special school, where the environment was better. One Summer, me and my brother got to go to my mother’s for the entire Summer, and after I came back, I screamed and cried, because I knew what was going to happen, and finally my father gave in, and I got to go live with my mother’s.

After I left, my father got fired from his job in Michigan, and threw away a chance for the boys to get a free college education. Their youngest boy got involved in crime and broke into other houses and was caught with drugs and guns. My brother had all of his stuff taken out of the house and he was taken advantage of, today he is out of that house! And my father and stepmother live on, I have not talked to my father in years, and I do not respect my father. Now, after I moved to my mother’s, I still had to deal with an alcoholic stepdad, house burning down, arguments, not being trusted, more abuse and bullying from other people, and eventually I left my mother’s as well.

Since she talks about how I divided her relatives, when it was the relatives telling me stuff about her. And she gets frustrated because I cannot hold down a job. And she even says I have alienated anyone that was willing to help. That is not true! Yes, we have had arguments with councilors and she even tried to put me in a special needs class at the local mental health center, which did not last long. If you want to read my mother’s day thoughts about my mother, click here!

I have had arguments with other family members, including one who thought all forms of talking to yourself was bad. One thing I have had go through is I have had to figure out what I like to do, and what I enjoy doing and what I don’t like doing, without the help of others. I enjoy writing, photography, and videography. I love animals and I love drawing, and of course, I love the geek and nerd culture, and I love watching cartoons. In fact, watching cartoons was an escape from the abuse I experienced while I was a kid. Today, I am still taken advantage of by past employers that got me fired. And I have been rejected from jobs, educational opportunities, and even volunteer opportunities. I have even crossed the 1000th application rejection mark. I guess that is what happens when you have some not so good parents.

I guess the lesson for Father’s Day and Mother’s Day is this? If adults are going to treat their future kids like they are a property, and not give them the proper love and respect, and teach them life lessons they can take when they are adults, then don’t have sex! I mean seriously, if you are not going to take care of your kids the proper way, then do not hook up, it’s that simple! I always wondered what would happen if DHR got involved and actually took me away and put me in foster care. And soon I could have been adopted into a loving family. Believe me, both sides of my family kept threatening to call DHR because they saw me being treated the wrong way. If I was taken away and adopted by another family, I would have gotten the love I needed. I would have gotten the proper treatments I needed because of my disabilities. I would not have been bullied and harassed by other family, friends, and classmates. And I would probably be hired and living a comfortable life now, instead of being unemployed for three years and living in the worst metro area in America for unemployment.

I guess my lesson from growing up from some bad parents is I know how I will raise my future kids the right way! I also know how to treat my future significant other the right way as well! I will treat my future partner with great respect and not mistreat that person. And I will teach my future kids the right life lessons in growing up, along with playing with them and letting them experience what being a kid is like, since I never got to experience what being a kid was like myself, because of me being abused and bullied. This story is a lesson to all fathers and mothers out there; I just do not want to see other kids go through what I went through, because it does affect you for the rest of your life!

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