I choose not to speak to my father, mainly because of the extreme mental and physical trauma growing up, he was a recon ranger, Nicaragua Reagans war on drugs, about 3 years ago he finally came clean, he murdered innocent women, children and men. Then two months later would be changing my diapers, is how he put it

My older brother, now dead, suicide from the even worse mental and physical abuse he suffered, he ended up becoming a drug addict very early in his teens, ended up with schizophrenia.

During my whole childhood, my father had a side girlfriend, who he is now married to.

One memory that stands out the most and haunted me and still does, I would be whipped with a leather belt on my bare ass at around 5-8 years old, for get this, lying, my ass would welt and bleed, my mother took photos one time, used it as evidence during the divorce in court, where my dad acted like he was such a caring father, only because he didn't want to pay child support to her....

I have stories and memories that occured, one bring where I was choked against a wall by my father, at night time when I was up just to get water from the faucet from the bathroom sink, he snuck out of his room quietly and when I opened the door to go back to bed, he grabbed me by my throat and slammed me against the wall choking the life out of me, staring into my eyes, he then dropped me to the floor and then consoled me, cried with me, and then there was this plaster cast of my hand from kindergarten, he put my hand into it and switched back to his fatherly self

I brought this story up about 3 years ago when my brother died, he denied it, acted as if I made it up, there were several stories I asked him about, most he acted like I was just embellishing.

I now have my own family, two young children and my partner, we'll get married one of these days maybe, life is a trip and the only thing you can do is choose a new life and live it the way you want to, you don't have to include someone in your life just because they are your family

Very hard choices and at times I question myself, because I see other people's family and I think, why, what happened, why did I have to grow up like that, why didn't my mom call the police, why didn't my neighbors intervene, why did my brother get the worst of it, why does a full grown man in his prime torture and torment his own family...

I will never know these answers