Well. I certainly got my father’s attention. After sending him a series of fun, lighthearted gifs this morning he finally broke down and responded to my texting on the THIRD day of me trying to find out what’s going on with his health. He was pleasant enough, whined about not being able to move back to Thailand because of his poor health and having to sell a bunch of his stuff, but then mentioned he probably wouldn’t be at Grandma’s house tomorrow when I went to visit her. I told him that I had wanted to see him in person (esp. so I could see for myself how he was doing healthwise) and asked if he was available Monday. He had just gotten done saying how hard it was for him to walk and how he spends most of his time in bed, so I didn’t think his calendar would be too full. Dad didn’t answer me, and after about an hour I sent another text jesting, “Should I have my people call your people?”
He lost his shit. He went insane. He called me impatient and demanding and made everything about me, in the rudest possible reaction he could have come up with. I told him that I understood he was having a hard time right now, but responding to a question was the bare minimum of human decency, especially when it’s your goddamn son. This enraged him further, and he cried about me ‘harassing him’ for my own agenda. I fired back I was trying to get him to answer my damn text message inquiring about his health and I stated that multiple times, would he like the screenshots? Did he think I was reaching out to him just because I enjoyed being bullied? That’s when he decided to play the victim and say I was bullying him. Of all things. The man who has treated me at best like an inconvenience and at worst like something he hates for my whole life thinks I’M bullying HIM? He hasn’t seen anything yet!
I went about my work day briskly, annoyed and stressed out that I was having to deal with this bullshittery in addition to everything else going on. What is wrong with this man? Why can’t he just be a decent person for once in his miserable life? Especially since it seems like he’s getting toward the end of it.
He decided he wanted to start fucking with me again later, calling me shallow and self-absorbed, conveniently forgetting the time that I worked full time as a CNA and took care of his rude and ungrateful ass after he broke both his legs in a motorcycle accident. Or the times I went and sat with him at the hospital last year because of his heart condition and brought him mango despite the fact he was rude to me and all the nurses. Or the fact that I was suffering through all this bullshit just because I wanted to know what was going on with his health. I told him he was an asshole and he had always been an asshole. He told me all he ever wanted for me was to be happy and grow up and he guesses I never grew up. Sad. I told him if that was true it was surprising how he never tried to facilitate either of those goals. He then suggested that I should have just raised myself as a child and not had to rely on anyone else and I told him he was clearly having cognitive issues. He didn’t respond after that, and I hope he isn’t at my grandmother’s house tomorrow because I am done. I tried and failed so many times to deal with this awful man. He will never care about anyone more than he cares about himself, and he will never see the world any way other than through his own miserable twisted hateful gaze. So fuck him. I have my own life to live.
Needless to say, it will be unpleasant if he is there tomorrow, or really if anyone else is there besides my grandmother. I don’t care for my aunt or her husband who lives next door and don’t really want to deal with them either. Yet I also don’t know what Reed and I will do while we sit there with that poor woman, weak and untalkative, pondering her brain cancer. So tomorrow is going to be a rough day. We’ll probably start with the gym then head out there, then try to make the day better after we leave. We’ll see how it goes. Can’t wait to hear what my therapist thinks about this shit.