When I Moved with my Dad When I moved with my dad for me it was I wouldn’t know how too explain it my way. It was bad but good at the same time but bad for me Not because it was a bad place but, the condition I was in for me it was bad. At this time I was sad because I just wanted to live with my mom at the time but, something had happened that was tragic. My dad is a good guy don’t get me wrong but, he would always get on to me for the simplest things and it would get me mad. This all started in September 2016 going into 2017. My mom and my dad decided to go to court for me and ofcourse I was nervous. Then next you know they were asking me where I wanted to stay. The judge said it was a temporary custody for 9 months whoever I chose. The …show more content…
Well I decided to see how it was living at my dad’s and I kinda regret choosing him because it was hard for me. Well at this point I was sad because I missed my mom because I loved her and loved living with her. I woke up the first day at my dad’s and I was fine but I felt different. I went through that day and went to the next. After finally a week I was doing the same thing everyday the only thing that was different was the time I showed up at school. I would wake up and got to school, get out of school, go with my grandma, Grandma would take me home, I get home throw the trash, and lay down and play my game then I would wait for my dad and my stepmom to get home too cook after that wait a little bit longer then go to sleep. I realized this and I went home and thought about it and thought for a while. Ofcourse during all of this I would go visit my mom on the weekends and I would have a wonderful time with her. Me and my mom were very close because I was a momma's boy. During all of this my dad would get me mad over the simplest things most of the time. While I was mad one day I just had a mental breakdown and I called my mom and asked if she could pick me up and she asked why I said I would tell her after she picked me up and she said ok and came
The people who I look up to is my mom and my dad. Ever since I was born, they helped me with my problem that I have. Every day after school my mom would help me with my homework, because most of the time I don’t understand my assignment, that she knew how to do some math work, because I would forget how to answer my math, while my dad is at work. On his days off me and my dad would sometimes go fishing in the river or a lake, because he would like to spend time with. Other times we would go hunting for deer or bird, because it would be boring if we didn’t do
Father, computer server engineer, alcoholic, and felon. My dad, Jason Wayne DeHate, has influenced my life, not only genetically, but he has also improved my character and creativity throughout the years. Beginning at age two, I was cultured with profanity spit from rappers such as Eminem. While my mother was at work we had multiple videotaped “jam sessions” and coloring time that allowed for the foundation of friendship we have today. The jam sessions consisting of me mumbling and stumbling in front of the television, as he was “raising the roof” from his lazyboy. Since then, he has taught me how to rollerblade, change wiper blades, and play my favorite sport, tennis. Along with influencing my leisure activities and the music I enjoy, his prominent personality allows me to grow as a person. Being the only male figure in my immediate family, I
I sat across the table from my dad while he stared at me with a disbelieving look on his face. My mom sat to the right of me with tears in her eyes. She could see my pain as well as my dads, and she knew the war that was about to start between my own father and me. My brother sat to the left of me making comments that only made the situation worse. I could feel myself dying inside as my heart began to break. I had no idea how to deal with the situation that I had gotten myself into. My new boyfriend was mixed in races, and my dad was totally against it. I sat there crying while trying to make him understand, saying things like, "Dad, he's a person not a color." But, it was like talking to a brick wall. My dad was brought up with the belief that races do not mix under any circumstances. I did not realize that dating someone whom was not completely of my race would tear my dad and I apart. We had talked about it before, but I did not think he would react the way that he did. The words and fights that followed tore me apart. I went from being near perfect in my fathers eyes to being a "spoiled, selfish brat" whom supposedly only cared about myself. I could not believe those words were coming out of my dad's mouth. Things got so bad that I did everything I could to stay away from home for as long as I could. I even tried to move out. I got yelled at every time I walked through the door. I went from being great to not being able to do anything right, and it all happened over night. To make things worse, some of my friends started to look at me in different ways too. If I wasn't around, they would say things like, "I can't believe Lori is a nigger lover." Others talked about me and said what I was doing was immoral.
The moment in time when I realized that I was never going to have a Father like the rest of my friends changed the course of my life. As a young boy it was difficult coming home after a baseball game where each of my friends dads were there to cheer them on. I was left with the Father that was incapable of working or even getting himself out of bed. My fathers illness showed me to never take life for granted because one day your life can be normal and another day you're best days have already past.
Now that I am in the counseling program I have become aware of the dysfunctional family that I have grew up in. Growing up I remember my father was never around. There is a memory I will never forget it seems blurry but I remember my parents arguing and becoming angry. I went into a room and when I came out I saw my father’s hand bleeding. My mother was holding a kitchen knife and she had cut his hand. Since my father was hardly around we never had family trips or family time together. He would spend his weekends drinking or going out with his friends. I have another memory that stands out. I remember I was in the back seat of the car and my mom was dropping of my dad somewhere. They were arguing the whole way over there, once we got to the destination my dad got off and walked out. I can imagine this affected my mother as a woman because her needs were not being
This is something that occurred over ten years ago but it still plagues me to this day. One moment I thought that we had a perfect family unit. Everyone was happy and everyone got along great. Then, the next thing I knew, my parents were in court everyday trying to get custody of my older sister and myself. This left me hurt and confused. The worst part was after the divorce was over. My father got custody of us- which I preferred because it meant I didn’t have to move away and I didn’t have to live with my mother’s new boyfriend (her boyfriend while she was married). My mother got visitation rights two days of the week and every Sunday. So, instead of seeing my mother everyday when she would come home from work and having her tuck me in at
I was awful young enough to not fully be aware of the entire situation. What I did know was that I didn’t want to move into a new house, attend a new school, and definitely not live without my dad. Adapting to my new and different surroundings was very hard for me. I was upset with my dad for his actions because he was the cause of all the changes. I was mainly angry with my mom though for her decision. To my eight year old self, I felt as if it wasn’t fair. I was her precious girl and entire world and I knew she would do anything to see my happy. For that particular reason was why i couldn 't comprehend her decision. I wasn 't happy with the outcome, I hoped she would forgive him and we could be a family
For the next couple of weeks I continued with my usual laying in bed except I was constantly thinking about what my dad said to me. It motivated me to love myself more-- to love myself as much as my dad loved me. Every day from then on, I forced myself to be a little bit more productive; more social; kinder. For example, I would talk to my friends, even if it was only an exchange of "hello"s, "how are you"s, and "fine"s. I would give whatever spare change I had to anyone panhandling on the subway.
For me, it was very hard having my parents divorce, but I think it helped me become the person I am today. Even though I know that it was better for my parents to no longer be together, it still hurt me. I am not very close with my mother and that is why I partially blame my parents divorce on her. Me not being close to her affects me everyday. As a result of my parents divorcing, it has caused me a lot of emotional trauma for the past four years.
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
I became even more selfish and shallow than I'd been previously and hid all of my choices from my parents. The only thing my dad knew about was my grades, and he asked me why I had thrown away the relationship that he thought was a solid, tight bond. When I finally told him about one of the biggest decisions in my life after lying to him about it for a very long time, he told me he was done with me. And my world collapsed, I was nothing if I couldn’t rely on my father’s love for me. My parents brought me home and asked me to decide to change, and do better, or to stay on my path and to be not welcome in their house anymore. When I was first given this choice I was upset and angry, how dare they ask me for that, it has nothing to do with anything that’s going on, but I decided that losing my family would be the worst choice I could ever make, and I didn’t want to end up like all the bad examples of people I know who made the wrong decision. I realized that I had hurt my dad deeply, I had not only lied to him but I had broken a promise, and he blamed himself for the path I was going down. We talked and argued, I shouldered all the blame, told him I didn’t want this that I wanted to be better, and he still blamed himself. He
I come from a divorced family. I have hateful parents, not toward me, but towards each other. I can’t stand it, the way they look at each other, the way they talk or act towards each other, it just irks me. I go to my father’s apartment on the weekend. I don’t blame my mother for ditching my father, who could. He was a dirty old, good-for-nothing, scumbag. Since he has left us, he hasn’t even given my mother and I a second thought. The only reason I visit him is because my mother thinks that I need a father figure in my life. My mother isn’t all that good of a mother anyway. I know she tries to be a responsible adult, but she acts like an immature little twit. She is constantly going to nightclubs and every night she has a different male companion at our house. I feel sorry for my mother’s
After half an hour of waiting for someone to call and my sister and dad to come home also thinking about what to do. I gave up and went to take a shower. When I came out, my bed was made and my mom called me down for breakfast, which I didn’t feel like having. I just drank a glass of orange juice. My mother went to the porch to sit. After a few seconds I decided to join her. Since I had nothing better to do at that moment, I asked her where my sister and dad had gone. All she said was “I don’t know”. I gu...
It sucked, I felt like I had to do everything AND I had to share a room with the oldest girl. We ended up becoming best friends, we fought like sisters, but I loved having her in my life. Everything was perfect as I thought; but i did drift away from my dad alot. Not long being moved in things got weird. Brads kids began to hate us and tried to make my brother and my life hell. They would do stuff they knew that would make their dad mad and give the blame to us. The more and more we got in trouble the worse it would get, first it was screaming in our faces and pushing us around but push turns to shove. He began hitting us when he had a fit about either how we act or what we did. I have never let him hit my little brother, so I would take the hits for him. I had him lock himself in the bathroom or run off in the pasture. It seemed like a never ending nightmare. My mom began to become an acholoic, just like him. She didnt care for me anymore, i could try talking to her but she didnt care, she “loves him”. My little brother is only eight years old at this time. EIGHT. Hes always been a mommas boy but he began to hate her, once my dad yelled at my mom and threatened to take us away from her, she stoped drinking for a while and nothing happened to us. We actually all grew close I started to think of brad as a father figure. We came close; we all did. Soon again, she began to
It was around 2:00pm and it was time to open presents. I started with opening friend’s presents then I opened families. I was finally done opening all my presents. I looked around at all the people, who were looking at me and my dad was nowhere to be. That was the only present that I was looking forward too. The party ended and my dad didn’t show up, my little four years old hopes were in the ground, it was like I could feel my heart ripping appart. I looked at my mom and she mouthed I’m sorry, my faced turned rosy red and my eyes filled with tears. From that moment on my life was never the same. It was a dark cloudy day and I was going to see my dad. We were playing the game Sorry and he was winning. I was the yellow player and he was the green player, he was laughing and smiling the whole time. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my Friday afternoon any other way. When the game was over he asked me to clean up the game while he went out to smoke a cig. When he entered the room and the game wasn’t picked up, he went crazy. His eyes seemed to turn a dark almost black color. It was like he was a completely different person when he came back