punkwalrus (punkwalrus) wrote,
punkwalrus
punkwalrus

Nineteen years ago...

Not really to the day, but this month in 1987, I moved out of my house and in with Bruce and Cheryl of FanTek. This was the scene:

My mother committed suicide that January. After my father erased his 29 year marriage to an alcoholic, he was dating again in 3 months. He told me I cold stay in my house, rent-free, as long as I had a full time job (40hrs + a week) and went to college full time. He paid for nothing, of course, even though he owned a house in a rich suburb, had two luxury cars, a classic T-bird, and a 37-foot yacht. He forbid me to learn how to drive, so I was stuck riding the bus or Metro. The George Mason fucked me over with classes that scattered my schedule all over the day, making it impossible to get any job but part time. Knowing that my father's way of saying "no" to people was to put them in impossible situations and making them feel like a failure, I decided I wasn't playing this game anymore. I was 18. I packed my things and left. My father never let me back in the house again except twice, and that was only in the dining room. What I didn't take with me when I moved I still do not have, and will never see. He visited me a few times after I got married, which I tried to keep pleasant, but then he moved away, and wouldn't tell me where (I had to hire someone to find him). One of the last things he said to me was, "You're pretty dumb, so remember this: everyone is out to get you. Nobody cares about you but me, and I don't even like you." It was almost September. All my old friends had left, and all my new friends were kind of weird.

So. I ask you, my collected friends since then, what advice would you give an 18-year old semi-goth, fannish, science nerd in a similar situation?
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