Thirty days of truth -- Day eight.

Someone who made your life hell or treated you like crap.

This one is easy to answer: Herbert (Herbie), my biological father. He beat my mother on a regular basis, and the police were at our house all the time to break up domestic disturbances. They would always send more than one officer when they were called because he got into fights with them and was always threatening to kill people. Whether or not he would ever kill someone is questionable, but he sure did make a lot of threats! I would have to sneak out the back door when I was in elementary school, little brothers in tow to go to the neighbor's house and have her call 9-1-1. Luckily she was patient and always helped. She also hung one of my dad's business shirts in the window with a big circle around it with a slash through it... She hated him.

I was a daddy's girl and I always thought that the problems with my parents were my mom's fault. Like she drove him to hit her or that she just wanted to ruin our lives by taking us away from him. My dad never hit me or my brothers, and would sometimes take me to his job sites with him (he owned a company that built houses, decks and docks with occasional random construction jobs). When I was ten, I remember my mom coming to pick us up from our dad's house, and I didn't want to go home with her. She told me that my dad didn't even love us and that if I didn't believe her, that I could go back inside and ask him myself. I did, and my dad told me that his company was more important to him than my brothers or I were. From that moment on, I wanted nothing to do with him, and have only spoken to him a few times since (all for legal issues).

After we moved out for good, I found a drawer of letters that he had written to my mom. I snuck them to my room and read them all. What he wrote was awful, and I started to see him for who he really was. I'm so sorry that I treated my mom the way that I did, and regret not listening to her and looking at our situation more objectively and making my own opinions instead of idolizing my daddy.... His rights were ultimately revoked and he couldn't see my brothers or I for visitation until we were over eighteen and out of the foster care system. One of my brothers got back in contact with him, but I haven't and I don't think that my other brother did either.

After I was placed in foster care around age eleven, I used to think "maybe my dad will go to court and fight for me... Maybe he loves me and has cleaned up his act." I wanted to believe that he had changed, and to give him a second chance. Nothing had changed though, and he made no effort to regain rights.. Part of me wishes I could go back and start over with a different dad. I sometimes wish that I had been adopted by a happy family who cared about the welfare of others, with a father figure who loved me like I deserved to be loved. Oh well, we can't have everything, now can we?

A couple of years ago my grandfather, Herbie's dad, died and left EVERYTHING he owned to me. He cut his two living children and my three siblings out of the will. I'm still not 100% sure why he gave it all to me, but he did. A few years before that, my dad almost lost his home to foreclosure from unpaid bills and was in jail, so couldn't do anything about it. He "quick deeded" the house to my grandpa with the verbal understanding that once my dad was out of jail, he would pay my grandpa back and get his home and the contents back. Well.... My grandpa never got the money and never let my dad back in to get his stuff....

Before my grandfather died, he changed the house into MY name. So, I now owned my dad's old house (where I lived until I was like seven years old), the land and all of it's contents. I sold the contents at a garage sale and I sold the house. My dad called my lawyer threatening to kill me (how smart is that?!) and took me to court over it (he lost). I got a PPO against him with the recorded call to my lawyer as evidence of the death threats, and he took me to court to fight it (he lost again). Needless to say, he is still an angry illogical person who thinks the world revolves around him. He tries to make it seem like everyone is out to get him, but they aren't. He is mentally unstable (I read his report from a psychologist's examination) and can't be trusted. He still makes death threats. He still manipulates people. He still blames me for some of the things that are wrong with his life, when they aren't my fault at all.

The good news it that this experience has made me who I am. I think everything happens for a reason, but I haven't figured out yet why this happened to me. Maybe I never will. Either way, he treated me, my mother and my siblings like crap, and has made our lives a lot less pleasant than they could have been. He stole the majority of my oldest brother's trust fund as well. He really is a bad person, as harsh as that sounds.. I've forgiven him for all of the grief and trauma he has caused me, and I do wish him well. I wish that he would get over himself, stop using drugs, go to therapy and start over with his life -- move somewhere new, restart his construction business, and make a positive reputation for himself.

I think we could all use a little therapy, and sometime soon I may enroll myself for some. I have a lot of unresolved anger and sadness as a direct result of how he has affected my life. I've been trying to sort through all of the baggage for a long time, but maybe it's time for some professional help.. Someone who can guide the progress and help me to dig a little deeper to the root of the problem and find some peace and restoration.