Dead friend and kidnap (06.04.2002 - 11:55 p.m.)
I was just thinking and I remembered about my best friend when I was 5. He was killed when a radio controlled aeroplane hit him in the head.
That was shortly before my father kidnapped me for 3 months. I don't recall if I've written about that, I don't think I have. That was when I was 5 too, although I had my 6th birthday in Scotland with him. I seem to remember my sister being there for some reason, she should have been in Sussex in 6th Form or university or something. But thinking about it, it would have been the summer holidays.
During those 3 months was the first time my father had ever lost his temper with me, I remember it scared me. It was after my brother had got taken back by my mother (he had been taken too). I was on my own there for the last 2 months.
One morning my mother and step-father rang the doorbell and my sister answered it. I was still in bed and they came in and told me to get my things packed, and I think my sister was telling them to leave or something. Anyways, being a 6 year old I did what I was told and we went to the train station. I remember having to cower under a table in the train because my father had called the rail traffic police and they came and took us off the train. I was put in a cell on my own for a while for some reason, and then I had to decide who I wanted to go home with.
I resent the fact I had to make that decision at the age of 6. As it turns out regardless of my choice things would've more than likely turned out just as crap either way. On the one hand I could have moved in with my blind mother, who is lazy, and manipulative and useless and my stepfather who is short tempered and intolerant. On the other hand I could have moved in with my father, and grown up through his years of alcoholism and ill health due to crohnes disease. It was a life changing decision the importance of which I wasn't fully aware of at the time. I knew it was a very serious thing to decide, but the thing that swayed my decision was the fact I had been scared when my father had shouted at me.
I resent my father for many things, and also my mother for many more things, and I'm not sure whether I can trust him now, or whether he's just using me to get back at my mother. I don't have any problem with upsetting my mother, but I don't like being used.
Another thing that happened with my father when I was 12, my brother and I went to visit him for a week or so. However my brother only had a few days off work or college or something and left halfway through the week. This in itself was a throwback to when he kidnapped me. But a couple of days later I developed a bad chest infection and wanted to go home, and he wouldn't let me. That shook me a bit I guess. I've never really forgiven him for that or taking me when I was 5. I'm not sure I ever could.
I know for certain I can never forgive my mother for how useless she was, even though my brother seems certain she's tried her best. I'm not sure why he thinks that, I would have thought because he was older than me he would have been able to see how things really were better than me. But then again I guess my mother had more influence over his opinion of our father because he was old enough to remember the stupid things he's done and for her to embellish upon them.
Oh well, guess I got the motivation to write something this evening heh :(