Romance?

Forgive?

After how those boys affected me, I realized, it wasn't as bad as my parents. People talk about how much they hate or love their parents, but it is quite literally both for me. I was always told I was spoiled, bratty, fat, snobby, chatty, and inadequate by my parents. Usually, my dad would give those insults. I would forgive him every single time he had done something to hurt me, mentally and physically. He would always come to me crying, saying he didn't want to hit or yell at me, but apologizing without change is manipulation. He never changed the way he was, not even now.

When my dad first started getting sick, I was glad because he stopped yelling at me. I mean he stopped yelling at me because if he did, he would have a stroke. He wasn't the best dad, but sometimes he would try to be. He's very old. His cognitive skills aren't as good as they used to be. Although he was very smart when I was younger, he isn't anymore. He is a very stubborn man, and that sets him back, he believes he's in the right. I just wish he would sit back and see things for what they really are.

 He was born in 1955, a very long time ago. He grew up working on a potato farm. He was born and raised in Bakersfield. He would always leave Bakersfield, but something would always bring him back. He had, both parents and a sister. He said his sister would abuse him then he beat her and she finally stopped. I wish he had never told my brother that. When my brother would pick a fight and lose it. I would get in trouble regardless. Only until he got older he fought harder and I gave up and just let it happen.

I was born in the Philippines and stayed until I was 2 years old. I might not be fluent in Filipino dialects but at least I get the gist. When my mom and I came to America with him, we lived in Oildale. Then we moved to Bakersfield to be closer to his shop. I'm about to be 17 on the 15th of December, and throughout my life, I have moved 6 times to where I am now. I live in the suburbs now and I'm glad it's better than where I was before.

All my life I was embarrassed my dad was my dad. He was fat and old. Now I'm not fatphobic or judgemental about that. I used to be on the heavy side anyway. It's the fact he would shuffle to walk that made him sorta embarrassing. He would make subjective jokes about women, usually when my mom wasn't around. He would talk so much even to strangers. I was just ashamed of him. He was an okay dad because he was smart.

He would hide the fact he would eat candy and drink soda from my mom. He has been a diabetic since he was 20 years old. He has lived a full life. He's a veteran who fought at the end of The Vietnam War. He used to look for high-profile people that did bad things. I can't go into detail because that's all he would tell me. He was a person who went through all the branches of the military because it was his line of work. He was an I.T. and would help them with their technology. That's what he told me. He has so many stories that he and I forgot about. He forgot because he has Alzheimer's. He also has dementia. So he goes ballistic sometimes. I would never wish my dad for someone else.

Now my mom is a different story. She was born in 1974. The year I believe my dad graduated high school. My parents are 19 years apart in age. It was all just kind of weird to me growing up. My mom looked so young compared to my dad that people thought for so long was my grandfather. People thought my cousin was my dad, only because he looked young enough to be my dad. 

My mom came from a broken home. No one cared for her. So she begged for their attention. I see why I have to beg her for attention. She just projects her trauma to me. She beat me one time in September. It was funny but understandable. She was complaining I missed a spot when I was cleaning, and I had advised her to stop and let me do my thing. Something about her talking a mess about students in her class stayed in my mind. So I decided to comment on it. She said she wasn't but she clearly was. She said people look at her weirdly and they talk bad about people. I told her she should keep stuff like that to herself and not harp about it to others. From her personal experience, she shouldn't say things because you don't know who's listening. Later on, she made me fix her computer and she said something and I snapped back because I was angry from earlier. She told me to sit and started handing me a can of Whoopass. Her dad recently died, she had midterms, and my dad clouded her mind, so I understood that she pushed it all down until she exploded. 

I still tried to off myself. I had no one to talk to while I was crying. I planned out how I was going to kill myself. I prepared a suicide note and everything. I knew exactly when and how I was going to do it. Now this wasn't the first time I've tried to off myself. I tried 1 time in 2020, 4 times in 2021, 1 time in 2022, and the one time in 2023(the one I am talking about currently). every single time was because of my mom. Now I'm not gonna lie, I have never tried to off myself because of a guy(THANK GOD). I just lived with the fact that that's how people were. She just made it 10x worse. In 2021, I went to live in Stockton with my cousins. On my way there I sat and thought, I could off myself there and my mom wouldn't have to deal with it there. I was thinking about the many ways I could. I hated my life. I hated being the person I was. I just wanted to feel loved.

She gave my brother all he's ever wanted. He's very materialistic. I'm not saying I'm not but I'm just less. He has a PS4, a Nintendo Switch, an Occulus, and a phone. I never had what he had. I had to beg for the stuff I got when I was little. I begged for a tablet and didn't receive it until years later. He asks it once and he gets it ASAP. I always found it so unfair. He has always had the upper hand. He was the baby. I hated that. 

My brother has major anger issues, and I do too but that's not the main point. If you would take the device he was playing on he would throw the biggest fit you ever saw. He broke windows on multiple accounts, just because he was mad. If I took it, the window wouldn't be the thing he hit. He would never get in trouble for hitting me. They were always so lenient with him. I would get the longer punishments because I was older and should know better. They never taught me how to know better. Eventually, I learned myself. 

How could I forgive my family for treating me the way they did? I would forgive them anyway because what was I to do instead? I was treated so badly in my life. My mom tells me other's lives are harder. ARE THEY ME? NO! I am the only one living my life and justifying my life is better by saying others are worse is not good. I say my life is hard because it's what I have to go through.

How can I forgive anyone for doing what they have done to me.