say it again

[thehefner]

I will not call him. I will not call him. I will not call him. I will not call him. I will not call him. I will not call him. I will not call him. I am not going to give him the satisfaction. I'm going to wait for the fucker to call me.

I told him off for being a manipulative, drunken fuck who does nothing but stew and stew all day ("I'm sober right now," he said... God, how could I keep my temper after that? Does he think I'm ridiculously stupid?). He had the nerve to threaten me. Me. I am the single last person on this Earth who loves him, and all he can do is hate me for not giving a shit about him. And how do I not give a shit about him? I forget to call him up and say hi. Because my voice is the only thing that gives him joy anymore, it's what brightens his day. His day of drinking and listening to WAMU FM. Or just staring out into nothing.

He has no power over me. Gordon fronted Ma the money for my last college payment. If my father wants to revoke my inheritence, fine. He'll probably suck it dry anyway in medical costs, the way he's going. There isn't a damn thing he can do to me anymore. Hell, if this time he's so pissed off at me that we don't go back to business-as-usual as if nothing ever happened like we've done every time before... then hell, maybe I'll be free of him. If it ever happened, Lord knows it wouldn't have been easy or pretty.

Then why, for God's sake, does a part of me want to call him and make peace, one way or another? What the hell is wrong with me that I even feel like this is a big deal?! Goddamned stupid brainwashing childhood. I wish to God there was an Al-Anon meeting here for this, but there isn't. I checked.

I cannot call him. I must not call him. I will not call him.

Comments

[pokeyburro.livejournal.com]

It may very well be your personal conscience telling you what to do here, not your personal fear. Can't tell the difference? You wouldn't be alone if you couldn't.

I'm a bit late to the dance, and while I know some of the problem, I don't know all of the problem. But I'll throw this out there and see what you think... You're over 21. Does he know that?

[thehefner.livejournal.com]

He knows, but... well, I've really come to liken him to Gollum, with all that implies. Except while it's the alcohol that's emaciated him, I'm the precious. He's scared everybody else away in his life except for me, and will do anything, including threaten me (except he doesn't consider it threatening, of course, in his own mind he thinks I'm an ungrateful shit). He's quite brain-damaged and has always been this twisted, but now it's worse than ever.

So yes, I'm 21, he knows. But that doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm his son and that he's "busted his ass" for me all my life and now I'm shitting all over him.

As for the "fear or conscience" issue... that's the thing, I wonder if it's not the two going hand in hand after all the years he's been playing these games with me. He's trained me very well, and knows how to press the guilt buttons so very effectively.

[tazira.livejournal.com]

God, hon. This one's rough. All I can say is, do whatever will afford you the least regret later. If he dies without any sort of reconciliation between you, it can be a hard thing to live with. Trust me on this. In the end, don't do it for him, because he patently doesn't deserve it. Do it for you. Whatever 'it' turns out to be.

[thehefner.livejournal.com]

Yes, it's all about what option will result in the least pain. We're back here again, aren't we? All I'm doing right now is not doing anything. These three days have felt like they've been going on forever.

It's not going to last, I know. It never has. Unless he dies or is already dead, he's either going to come crawling back or I am, same as it ever was. But he's not going to die anytime soon. The man has the constitution of a horse and is stubborn as all hell. Like I said above, the man is Gollum. Only hatred, stubborness, and obsession is keeping him alive.