Much like me, my father was a hating-life S.O.B. Moody. Violent. Frustrated. Impatient. Used-to-be jock and wannabe artist. Socially impaired. He had a sharp tongue and a big mouth. He liked to fist fight. He drank. He couldn't keep a job. Abusive husband. Wholly unfit parent. He couldn't get along, couldn't deal with life, couldn't figure it out. He was tremendously unhappy.
He should have offed himself, no question. Maybe he didn't have the guts. Maybe he thought that course of action unmanly. Perhaps he didn't realize that he was the problem. It might be that the idea of "early check-out" just didn't occur to him. Who can say?
My mom has told me that I'm a lot like him. I inherited many of his personality traits. Like him, I don't mesh well with this world or the people in it. Maybe I've always been someone that the world can do without.
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