I realized, throughout the years, that other people's choices were not my fault. My father's choice to worry only about himself and not his family had nothing to do with me. The one thing I had control over was my attitude. If things were bad, and i was able to keep a positive outlook on life, that would be able to get me through. the problem was, I didn't figure that out for a very long time.
My mother eventually found the courage to separate herself from my father. It was not easy for her. He used to threaten her a lot, to make her afraid of ever leaving him. My brother and I were teenagers, and unwilling to live under our father's reign of terror anymore. We continually tried to convince her to leave him.
As I grew older, I began to think of ways to distract my father away from my mother. I know that he had some sort of love for me because he would not hit me the way he would hit them. I suffered from asthma as a child, and whenever my father began arguments with my mother, I would pretend to have an asthma attack, and it seemed to cool him off. This only worked for a while. I began to act violently, taking a fork and threatening to rip up his good suits. After a while that did not work either. I remember how desperate I felt to find a solution. And one day, I took a knife, and told him that if he didn't stop, I would slash my wrist. He stopped. But the final straw for him was the day he got into a physical confrontation with my brother. My brother was now older and stronger, and I remember very vividly seeing my brother slam him down into the floor. Now that I look back, I realize that my father was a sort of bully. In the playground, a bully picks on other people because he feels he's stronger than them, until a kid finally musters up the courage to fight back, and the bully's strong facade fades. My father had been so horrible to us because no one had ever stopped him. He did as he pleased because no one ever challenged him, until that very moment when my brother said no more. After that day, my father left on his own. He moved out of our apartment, without any hesitation. It seemed like we were finally going to be happy, my mother, brother, and I. I actually looked forward to life now. However, my plans were not the same as my mother's and brother's plans.
My mother eventually found the courage to separate herself from my father. It was not easy for her. He used to threaten her a lot, to make her afraid of ever leaving him. My brother and I were teenagers, and unwilling to live under our father's reign of terror anymore. We continually tried to convince her to leave him.
As I grew older, I began to think of ways to distract my father away from my mother. I know that he had some sort of love for me because he would not hit me the way he would hit them. I suffered from asthma as a child, and whenever my father began arguments with my mother, I would pretend to have an asthma attack, and it seemed to cool him off. This only worked for a while. I began to act violently, taking a fork and threatening to rip up his good suits. After a while that did not work either. I remember how desperate I felt to find a solution. And one day, I took a knife, and told him that if he didn't stop, I would slash my wrist. He stopped. But the final straw for him was the day he got into a physical confrontation with my brother. My brother was now older and stronger, and I remember very vividly seeing my brother slam him down into the floor. Now that I look back, I realize that my father was a sort of bully. In the playground, a bully picks on other people because he feels he's stronger than them, until a kid finally musters up the courage to fight back, and the bully's strong facade fades. My father had been so horrible to us because no one had ever stopped him. He did as he pleased because no one ever challenged him, until that very moment when my brother said no more. After that day, my father left on his own. He moved out of our apartment, without any hesitation. It seemed like we were finally going to be happy, my mother, brother, and I. I actually looked forward to life now. However, my plans were not the same as my mother's and brother's plans.
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