I don't know, man... my parents divorced when I was 8 and hell broke loose for many years after that. My mother on a lifelong depression and completely inserted in her own suffering, not working, not nothing, my father living in another state, more worried about his new girlfriends and new life, and me feeling completely unwanted and out of place. There was poverty, there was bulling at school, there was rejection everywhere, apathy... and I felt a lot of inner rage towards them but I couldn't speak it up, I felt weak, and afraid, and I still didn't want to disappoint them, and I felt like I was unable to be normal... there was unnecessary poverty due to apathy, there was lack of care, my house wasn't a normal place, my body wasn't normal, my clothes weren't normal, and after a few years of bulling I was crushed, I didn't know how to speak normally to people, and I'd hate myself for being such a fucking weirdo...
When I was 15 I went to live with an aunt in another state and that was probably the best thing I did, but anyway...
I blamed my parents for all that shit for the longest time but it never fixed anything... reality is, after years of becoming a father myself and having a decent life, the rage went away to become acceptance.
My mother is fucked up and life wasn't gentle to her, she was abused in her childhood, she was the youngest of 10 siblings, often neglected and poverty everywhere too, I know she had problems with her image too, and after feeling this stuff as an adult I understand now she didn't mean to do harm and she didn't wan't me to suffer, she really couldn't move, and I've felt like that too, completely immovable, so how can I still blame her if I could have ended in the same place? If I hadn't moved away I'm sure I'd be in the same pit.
My father had an abusive authoritarian father that'd beat him up, so he just went the complete opposite way and was all about freedom, he wasn't present and I still feel like he never cared much, but he payed for my education and he'd come visit every 6 months and take my sister and I to travel... I don't have a single memory of playing with him but I don't think my grandfather ever did too... So whatever my father's demons were I know he's been through shit too, then why keep blaming him for shit that doesn't dictate my life anymore?... I still wish he'd care more about me, but you know, fuck it. I care a lot for my son and spent as much time as I can with him and he still complains I don't spent enough time playing with him, so maybe there's that too, haha, our perception that it's never enough...
What I mean by that is, you know man, it hurts a lot but at the end of the day everyone has their demons, including those that made us suffer... maybe it's a chain, a continuous flow of shit that branches out and everyone experiences it one way or another... I don't know... what I do know is, I have a great family, MY family, me, my wife, my son and my dog, and that's what matters most, so I'm cool with everything else... it still hits us, from time to time, sure, but overall, what's in the past is in the past.
Enjoy the moments with your daughter, they grow up fast
