I’m a pretty walled off person. I’m never one to talk too much about my parents. I’ve actually lied about them fairly often on Quora and to friends because I don’t feel like talking about it. That’s not because it’s painful, it’s just because I don’t see a point.
My dad died when I was 6. He had a heart attack. Up until his death, honestly, life was pretty normal. My Mom was happy, I was happy, and he was… alive.
That changed when he died though.
Call me heartless, maybe it’s cause I was 6, but I’d say I was over it pretty quickly. I don’t really think about it all that much anymore and of course if I could I’d revive him in an instant but I can’t, and I’m okay with that. I’ve come to terms with it.
My mom didn’t get over it as easy though. She’s still not over it. I don’t know how long they knew each other, I don’t know when they were married, I don’t know anything about them as a couple. All I know is when my dad died, my mom died too, just not physically.
People have had it worse than me. I know, there are people out there hitting their kids, there are people out their raping them, there are people out there doing some horrible shit to their kids. My mom wasn’t that bad, but she did the bare minimum.
She took care of me until I was thirteen. I say she took care of me, that didn’t include talking to me. That didn’t include taking me out to dinner. That didn’t include comforting me when I was upset. That didn’t include helping me with homework. That didn’t include going to parent teacher conferences. She took care of me, that’s it. She made sure I’d live.
Like I said though, until I was 13.
I’m 17 now. 4 years is 1,460 days, 1,460 days is 35,040 hours.
She’s been home…. 5,000 of those hours, tops.
When she was home it was very temporary too.
I can’t say where she goes, I don’t even really know. I don’t know where she could be in all that time. She probably has another family, she must have another bed though.
From 13 years old though I’ve learned how to take care of myself. The only thing she provided was money, a good amount of it, once in a while when she came home. She stuck it on the coffee table and sometimes I never even knew when she did, I’d just wake up one morning and it’d be there. Sometimes it was in VISA giftcards or something, it is a lot of the time actually.
As for shopping, well, I did that myself. I knew what to do, it was one of the very few things she went out of her way to teach me.
I became insanely good at social interaction and insanely open because I never actually knew what to say when a cashier would ask me where my parents were. I’d just tell them the truth, they’d give me a look, I’d pay, and I’d walk out with a backpack full of what I could carry. Surprisingly, I still am not a very good cook. Grilled cheese has become a breakfast, lunch, dinner kind of deal though, so if IHOP needs a good grilled cheese chef then I’m up for the job.
I became so good at social interaction because I had to be. I had to talk myself out of a lot of shit, especially with teachers. I could never be too sure when they’d call my mom that she’d pick up, so for the most part I made sure they never did. I had to make sure I was never sent home either, I only have failed that twice, both times I was super sick and puking. I couldn’t convince people that I wasn’t sick when I was puking. One time my mother was there half an hour later, and the other time she was there 2 hours later. The car ride would be silent too, she’d drop me off at home, that was that.
That’s just been my life for 4 years.
17 year old me looking 13 with the duck face and everything.
Being 17 it’s a lot easier. I’m able to do a lot more without seeming off, and sometimes I can play it off that I’m an adult somehow despite me still looking 13.
There are still times when my mom’s called though. One of those times was with the cops. It was when I ran off a few months ago, soon enough I was found, she was called, and she actually stayed home a few days. The day we got back she screamed my head off and that actually felt great, I thought maybe that meant she cared at first, then I realized most of it was screaming at me for doing something like that that could get her in trouble.
That’s about it, honestly.
