November 2010 - May 2011
From here, until May, I don't remember a whole lot.
The first time we saw Dad it was sad. He hugged us and I didn't want to be hugged. I was scared.
We went to a counselor, and talked over what he did. He never admitted to drug use, that he had hit his head. I sat back in my chair, kept my eyes down, and wanted this to just. be. over.
I didn't say anything, until he started saying things I knew where lies. I glared at him with the glare a lot of people call "white lighting" and asked coldly "Why did you leave us?" He glanced at me and said, "I didn't leave you! You guys left me!" My heart burst into flames as I started cursing him in my mind. How dare he say, WE abandon him. He LEFT us when he started taking drugs. He wanted to escape. That was the end of going to counseling with him. Never again.
Several things happened over this time period.
He moved out of his sisters house because he had a gun. He was not allowed to have a gun. So he moved in with his Mom.
We started visiting him, going out to eat and stuff. But he didn't like that he wasn't allowed to drive.
One night, as we were trying to get him out of the car, he ripped the keys out of the car and got in Mom's face and started yelling. Mom got out and then he got out. I got the boys out of the car, afraid he would take the car away with us in it.
He wouldn't talk to his mom or my Mom. He sat by the curb. Scott went over and talked to him. He gave Scott the keys. 12 year old Scott had gotten him to give over the keys. I stood there silently crying.
We didn't see him for Thanksgiving, we went up to Michigan where my Grandma lived. I got weird messages from him the entire time. Afterward he said he didn't even remember sending the messages.
We started realizing that his family was treating us differently. They said we should see him more. We didn't want to, scared of more bad memories with him.
We saw him on Christmas, but he refused to leave his room. He got the boys something, but he didn't get me anything. It stung, I didn't understand. He didn't explain or anything.
I met with him on my birthday, but I just stared out the window, wishing I didn't have to. I had a Lord of the Rings party, which I didn't invite him too. The friends I had started to make still hadn't realized I didn't have a Dad around.
In March, I went to a sleepover, my first party sleepover. I had a great time, and acted like myself. The lights were out and we were talking to each other quietly. That night I told my friends quietly that my parents were separated. I didn't get much of a response, I figured they were asleep. They weren't. My bold face was crumbling.
I didn't feel much during this time, I tuned out my feelings. By March, I was trying so hard to feel again. Anything, sadness, joy, nervous, anything. Emotions had gotten to tiring, I had just turned them off.
That winter was the worst couple months ever. It was cold, and I was lonely.
One night, I spent the night at my Grandma's house, my Dads mom, because Abraham wanted to. That morning I was loading stuff up in her car when I started to snoop. Just a little bit. I was SHOCKED when I found the camera bag I had seen in our backyard, that day many months ago. I opened it, and saw the little bags of powder. I tried to sneak some into my pants, hoping to show my Mom, but I didn't get a chance to. I then found guns. A LOT of of guns. In a container, but these guns were supposed to have been turned in to a elder months ago. She had been hiding that stuff.
As we went to have breakfast, Grandma said we were going to pick up Dad for breakfast. I started wigging out, afraid that Dad would get a gun from the trunk. I told them they should have told Mom. I didn't want to do this. As we dropped him back off at his sister's, I put Abraham, who was oblivious to everything, in the middle, in case I needed to get out fast and try to tackle my Dad. Nothing happened, but needless to say, Mom was NOT happy. I wasn't either. I almost had a heart attack. I'm not kidding.
Dad broke into the house a few times, and we went to our friends house. He eventually left, but it was nerve racking. One time Mom went with a couple of policemen, and we found out later he had been in the attic, hiding. He left quickly that night, and forgot to take his stuff. We didn't find it until months later. He left his journal and a bed in there, his journal looked like writings of a mad man.
As I look back, I realize that God protected us. If we had gone back that night, Dad would have been there in the attic and who knows what would have happened. Several of these incidents happened like this. God DOES have a timeline, and he just has it perfect. Its an amazing thing.
I found out a lot about my parents marriage. Like the fact he had looked at a lot of junk on the internet, and that he had beaten his girlfriend in college. I don't know why my Mom had married him. Had they ever really loved each other? I still don't know.