Today I started a blog and made my first post. It’s about my father and drugs. I haven’t written anything in two years so I really need to work on my writing skills, it’s not the best but I will get better as I go on. If you could read it and leave your opinions that would be wonderful. Also keep in mind I’m only 17.

(Also Brantley is my son if you are wondering)

“Sometimes I don’t think my Dad understands how much his bad decisions affected me. I don’t think he realizes how hurt I have been in the past because of him, the man who was supposed to make sure I was protected from getting hurt was the one that was hurting me emotionally.

I think even when I was a younger apart of me always knew my Dad was a user, I’ve always been rather smart for my age, so I knew when something was wrong and I could tell when he was on drugs. At one point in my life when I was younger me and my Dad were two peas in a pod, I was such a Daddies Girl, he may have thought I was his world, but he was mine. We used to always have a great time when he came and picked me up, listening to Kenny Chesney and all different kinds of Country singers. Sometimes we would stop at a gas station and I would get one of every flavor of Laffy Taffy that they had. I enjoyed spending time with my Dad. It was just me and him against the world. I don’t know what happened or when it happened, but things changed. I got older and we quit doing those things, sometimes when he would come and get me he would be all twitchy and shaky like he was on something. I would beg my mom not to make me go, to just let me stay home with her because I didn’t like seeing him like that. I don’t think he knew at that point that I knew he was doing drugs. But I knew, I could tell by his actions. He has been in jail multiple times because of drugs, he has been in rehab multiple times because of it, and our relationship is now very strained because of it. I still have every letter he has written to me when he was away in jail or rehab. They all said the same thing. That he wanted to get better, that he wanted to change and that he was going to. He would do good for a little while, but then he would go right back to how he was before. It hurt seeing him that way.

Once I hit my teen years I was tired of the excuses, and I honestly felt uncomfortable with him because my dad barely knew anything about what was going on in my life when he would come get me, because it went from being together all the time when I was a kid, to him seeing me once every few months, or once every holiday. It got to the point where I didn’t care about talking to him, or seeing him, and I know that sounds awful. But I just didn’t want to see my Dad that way. It hurt too much, plus I didn’t like how he would only want to come see me every few months and that be it. This is the first time I have ever openly talked about my relationship with my Dad with someone else besides my mom. My Dad does not even know how I feel because for some weird reason I was scared of breaking his heart even though he has broken mine multiple times..

After I had Brantley I finally came to a point to where I just didn’t care about having a relationship with my Dad at all, I would avoid talking to him or seeing him, it sounds bad but I just wanted to let go. He didn’t/doesn’t know anything about me anymore at all, it has been months since I’ve last seen him and months since I’ve last talked to him. Last I heard he’s in a bad place in his life again. My Dad broke my heart before any other boy could.. And one day I will gain the strength to sit down and talk to him about how hurt I am because of him but it won’t be today.”