TheLegendsLeague

By the time I was 17 my daughter was about to be born and I would question whether or not she was mine. By 22 I would smash a glass over my girlfriends face after being punched twice over issues of insecurity, ideas of jealousy, and the thought again, of being left alone. 3 hours later I was in an ambulance with my left wrist gaping open and a request not to be taken to the hospital my daughter was born in. They had no choice, so we went.

I was stitched a few hours later by a doctor who calmly said, “Hmm. A little higher, a little harder”.

When a child is placed in an environment long enough, he’s bound to begin to adapt to it. Either that or he’ll rebel entirely at the first site of rejection. The idea here is to act like you hate the girl you have a crush on in case she doesn’t like you, that way you can play it off as if you didn’t care in the first place. Sometimes the scenario calls for “your crush” to be replaced with grades, or getting a job, or speaking without using slang, or not selling drugs anymore, or anything that, should you try and fail, your ego would be damaged far more than your reputation.

The problem with my environment was that it was comprised of too many unstable and uncommitted elements to adapt enough to any of them. My father and I rarely spoke. He beat me more than he spoke to me. He gave me math problems instead of speaking with me in the car. This is what stands out the most in our relationship. I think sometimes that it may have been far easier for him to have left us and for me to learn how to hate someone who didn’t take care of their responsibilities than to be taught that you must love your family unconditionally and come home to someone who did the kinds of things he did to me. At 12 years old, 5 years of this treatment was enough to go through. At 27 years old, 2 decades of trying to unlearn it became quite discouraging.

My second elementary school never removed me from classes for bad behaviour. They put me in a cubicle away from the other kids and I was allowed to draw pictures of Def Squad logos and Sticky Fingaz from Onyx. They cared more about me being inside than me being in school and learning. I smiled often. I joked quite frequently. But I was more amused than I was happy, and I don’t remember much, if any of the curriculum.

There was a 2 week period after the incident with my girlfriend, where they put me on an in school suspension. I was placed in a storage room next to the principal’s office and was given no recess, allowed no interaction with any other children, and was only allowed out of the room to go to the bathroom and take medication. Nearing the end of the 2 weeks I was given permission by my principal, who incidentally was the father of a girl my (biological) sister would befriend in high school, to shoot around in the gym for 20 minutes a couple of times. In contrast to the dimlit room with a caged window, playing ball alone was quite the release.

For much of my life, I was never given definitive rejection. There was never a time when I felt entirely sent away. I was less a toss out than a set aside, and at the time it felt somewhat comfortable. What I have learned over the years though, is that this comfort with uncertainty has allowed a level of paranoia towards my loved ones to increase. Why trust the words when they are followed by tainted actions? But then why despise the actions when you’re picked up and sent home with your abuser? The lines between action and acting became very blurred, and I struggled to gain perspective. They must love me. They must love me.

“Men shouldn’t be jealous, that’s a female trait”.

My relationships with girls have always been chock full of uncertainty. There’s something about being raised by doctors and shrinks, councilors and psychologists, that makes you okay with sharing information, but never quite sure what trust means. I’ve always been questioned about my willingness to speak about my life situations and always revert back to saying, “well, the shit happened, its not like I’m lying”. This, for me isn’t the hard part of relationships. Being open is something I’ve learned to do fairly easily. My issue is not feeling as though I’m being lied to, will potentially be lied to, or left momentarily for dead. It seems men always feel the need to maintain an iron shell and a painless face even when their sacks are stomped by six inch stilettos. I, in contrast, have been raised to shred an iron armor in exchange for being further torn to shreds, and then shedding a drop or two. My perception of love is not tainted. My reception from the familiar perception of “loved ones” is.

In 2004, I was arrested for the last time on a few assault charges. Before getting sentenced, my mother was asked to give a character testimony for me. When asked if my violent nature was provoked by any childhood abuse, she responded by saying, “No. He was never abused”. Until this day she denies it, and until this day I regret having thrown out the disclosure papers that had her interview record.

What was I to think of my mother, the one who is to love you unconditionally? And what was I to think of my father, who was to show me what being a man is all about?

This father’s day my daughter told me that she was afraid to get in trouble, and that’s why she doesn’t do the things that some of her classmates do. I told her that I don’t want her to ever fear getting in trouble, that she should know the difference between right and wrong and choose her good judgment as the reason to not do anything troublesome. After Children’s Aid got involved in my house, I lost the idea of fear of punishment, and in losing it, realized I had never learned to respect my father. I only respected his anger, and it only diminished my concept of acting like a loved one, versus being active in loving.

…part 3 to follow.

DAY THIRTY RESULTS:
Day Thirty Weight: 166.6 lbs.
Emotionally: This Father’s Day was the best I’ve ever had. Thanks baby.
Appearance: Feeling good about it actually. But I can’t wait until I can exercise.
Level Of Temptation To Cheat: 0 out of 10.
Cheat Beers: 0

Brought to you by: be.