I called my dad and the conversation went surprisingly terribly. More than terrible. I was trying to ask him if he could nicely ask his wife without upsetting anyone to not say anything racist (about a thing we are) for just a few hours while we visit. Like for a birthday present, I thought to myself. A really low bar birthday present, I don't ask much.
But he went off, and I wasn't expecting it. He was very argumentative, as if I'd been completely out of line to ask for basic respect, to place a healthy boundary. I even underscored that I'm sure she doesn't do it intentionally, and no worries, just if we can try not to use hateful language about my origins, like, just for today. As a gesture. A reasonable request, or so I thought.
In a nutshell he made brutally clear to me he hates ALL of my ethnicities (and obviously himself.) I was shocked.
Gutted. I started shaking and shivering. He was serious. He denied his own family. Defended being racist against himself and me and his mother by saying he hates the other race too. Uh. What happened to my dad?
I told him "Daddy, you're listing everything I am." He didn't care. He hates the ethnicities that are me, that we both are. What. The. Why? Where did all this hate come from? Is he okay? He said I'm "just not there yet" as if his hatred was wisdom that I am too stupid to comprehend. He told me to "wake up" and said I'm "isolating" myself (by not being racist, against myself and my ancestors.)
So that was disturbing. A lot at once. Really did not see that coming. Lotsa hate. I started losing my chill.
I told him "You're hurting me, please stop." But he wouldn't. He kept going. He couldn't stop. I pleaded with him four or five more times. "Please stop, you're hurting me. Please stop." He didn't stop. So I gave up. I said, sobbing, "This is abuse." And hung up. He hasn't made any attempt to text or apologize.
I guess I'm glad I didn't drive two hours to visit them today. :(
I cried a lot and vented to my ex about it who was totally supportive and even offered to talk to him. The only thing I can really do is to be a better person. To love myself in order to love others. To model the kind of humanity I want to see in this world. His hatred is his problem. Not my burden to carry. That's his deal. But it can be a reminder to me that I need to try harder and do more, because hate is wrong and bad and lazy and very very ugly and stupid, but it exists, and the only cure is it's opposite: LOVE. I'll love even if it's out of pure spite! Love motivated by spite is more powerful than mere good intentions.
Love. Goddamnit. What if, as a human race, we just really fucking tried to love each other and ourselves. Radical fucking senseless LOVE. Insane heaps of it, everywhere, enough for everyone! Hugs and gifts and everyone feeling good and safe? Visualize it. That's the kind of world I want to aim to actively create. To share this dream. To get our heads in this place where we can collaborate and help each other and build bridges and heal together. I know you want it too. We can make that happen if we all focus on it at the same time.
Knowing this unsettling new facet of my dad will probably bother me for the next several weeks in an endless loop of analysis. Now I can wrestle with that along with the knowledge I'd been protecting my dad from, that my mom's housing expired and she may be living on the street now. I didn't think he could mentally handle it. Turns out that was very insightful of me.
But how come I have to be the one to mentally juggle everything? How come I have to be the one to put everyone else's comfort before my own? He can't possibly be proud of himself right now. He's a traitor to the mother who birthed him and all our ancestors before her, in the name of hate. It's not a good look.
I feel embarrassed, disappointed, sad, angry, betrayed, confused, attacked, tired, hopeless, and hopeful. I have a purpose, and that purpose is to show the world what LOVE looks like. I want to market the mental skill of love. The challenge of loving ourselves and others. How to be a whole person when people try to cut you in pieces to fit you in boxes that are too small. Expect several more entries like this probably, because this one's a doozy and might take more than a minute to fully digest.
4:26 p.m. - 2021-10-09