My Stolen Memories (If you are my good friend or a person that wants to become good friends with me you should read this)

Before I start this post I want to first say thank you to my mother right off the bat because without any of her help I wouldn't be the person I am today. But the main reason I'm posting this because it seems like I lost grip of the this fact. One of the main reasons why I hate my father and myself is because at a young age my father stole my memories of all those times my mother took me on those long car rides at night and back during a time when it was just me and her against the world. It's discomforting to know that a relationship like that existed but there are no reminisce of these past events in my mind. And I no they happened but I don't remember anything that happened or exactly when they happened..... And every time a reminder comes up that these memories have been erased from my mind I can see the scorn in my mother's eyes by the man he hated the most. I can't stand to be in the same room as her when time like these are brought up by a few select words I may say and the worst part about it is that I don't know when I say them.

All the good memories of me and her all of the mini dates that we use to have and all of the random glimpses of those field trips that come to my mind in dreams for the 10 years I lived with my father. But to me they were only dreams. According to dictionary.com the definitions they give for dreams are:

1. A series of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.
2. A daydream; a reverie.
3. A state of abstraction; a trance.
4. A wild fancy or hope.
5. A condition or achievement that is longed for; an aspiration: a dream of owning their own business.
6. One that is exceptionally gratifying, excellent, or beautiful: Our new car runs like a dream.

Now lets analyze this one definition that sticks out in my mind and horrifies me. A wild fancy or hope. At first I couldn't believe that my father destroyed and clouded all of the memories I had with my mother before I moved in with him. That all those amazing times that my aunt and all my mothers friends said that we had all reduced to "A wild fancy or hope" by my father. When I went to my father to speak to him about my mother about all these nice dreams of things we use to do to ask him why I was having these thoughts. And all he would do would remind me with the silly mind game he was playing with his own son of how my mother was a back stabbing bitch that only wanted him for his money. And he constantly warned me of how I should never go around her in fear of her abusing me mentally and physically. This ladies and gentlemen is what I call a mind fuck. So all of those memories from my childhood trying to visit me through my dreams of mother were erased and by a sadistic control freak known as my father. And now all I can remember is all the long days of labor that my father put me through. All those times where my father made me feel like I'd never be shit unless I was underneath him and I had no hope unless I helped him or did shit his way. He never encouraged me to go out on my own and do my own thing. My childhood and my time of growing into adulthood was robbed of me and now I don't know were to go. Because the man that was suppose to teach me to be a man and taught me how to be a dependent coward or how most people like to call it.... a bum. I learned absolutely nothing from that man except for the bear basics and he even went as far to make me believe that I was lucky for even learning that. When in retrospect he was dooming me for the moment I turned 18 because I would either be out on my ass or in college at a place I didn't want to be at. This man seems to be evil to me if I ever saw it. So for all the skeptics that think I'm complicated or think I over think shit too much. Why don't you try being me for 2 seconds and looking your mother in the eye and saying words that chill her to the very bones or even make her sick to her stomach or even sick at the sight of you and not even no what you did to make her feel the way she does, then you tell me how much I over react about things or think I over complicate things too much for my own good or even over think things. And after reading this if you ever speak to me in conversation, friend or acquaintance, and I tell you that I don't have a real father or speak to him now u no. This is an issue I have to deal with and no one can help me unless I let you in or think u can help me, and for this reason I don't want you pity I only want your understanding and patience. I'm sorry again mom for anyway that I've hurt you in the past present or future.