*A page about acknowledging how your childhood truamas and adversities effect your mental health.*
Dear mister addict,
You are a son, a brother, a husband or rather an ex-husband, a grandpa, and most importantly you are a father.
Dear mister addict,
If it wouldn’t be a bother I’d like to tell you what it’s like living with an absent father.
It’s like finding uncapped needles and putting puzzle pieces together that were there but you just couldn’t see them.
It’s like wondering what happened to the now sunken in skin draped like tapestries over sharp cheekbones and losing the belly every dad gets after age 40.
It’s like living in chaos wondering why you’d rather pay off your kids for missing Christmas instead of that child support that’s always so desperately needed.
It’s like cheeks missing kisses because you’re too busy kissing some other mistress.
It’s like wondering where daddy went because last time I heard from him he couldn't pay rent because social security checks came a bit late
And he’d rather spend it on some other woman
leaving his children to wonder what they did to deserve this.
Living with an absent father is like talking through DHS because he’d rather obsess over his next unsuccess instead of how he can ease our distress.
Dear mister addict,
You are a son, a brother, an ex-husband, and a grandfather.
Dear mister addict,
You are my absent father.
And I haven’t seen you in months,
Playing phone tag like it’s a game on the playground, only you’re the kid who thinks it’s not fun so you decide to sit out.
And I know you take a different route around this town because you know somebody is bound to let us know,
But you used to be the type to walk away from a fun night because your baby girls were at home all snuggled up tight,
wondering when in the hell daddy would be home,
And you’d stay up all night when a bad dream gave us a fright saying “it’s alright, it’s just a nightmare, I’m here.”
Dear mister addict,
I don’t see you here.
Poem by D. Fennell