Why I Finally Finished Cutting Off My Dad

I am aware that blasting my family drama out to the internet is frowned upon in some circles. I do not care. I assume most people will have no interest in reading about it, anyway, which will make this very different from my other, wildly popular posts. But it will end on an uplifting note, I swear.

The other day, I texted my dad for the first time in eleven months. I said,

"Because the government classifies me as 'self-employed,' I recently paid a third of my savings in taxes, including a double portion of Medicaid tax. I pay a thousand dollars a month for housing. Thanks to Trump's 'big beautiful bill,' I can't get Medicaid because my income is 'too high.' Thanks to the same bill, health insurance is less affordable than ever, and even if I did have it, the company would refuse to cover anything.

"Meanwhile, a billionaire from another country is getting a 96% tax break to build a gargantuan data center in Utah that will quadruple my energy bills and make my air unbreathable.

"According to you, this is the way things should be, and I'm whiny and entitled for resenting it. That's a good example of why I don't talk to you."

Could I have been less combative? Sure. Would you have been as civil as I was if you'd taken as much shit from him over the years as I have? Not likely.

He responded, "You think the government should be paying for your health care, but you don't like high taxes. Makes perfect sense."

It truly amazes me that a man with a Masters degree could miss the point so completely. In the heat of the moment, I didn't have the patience to dumb it down for him, but in case any morons are reading this, I will now.

1. I had significant expenses, including but by no means limited to taxes.
​
2. The (Republican) government ignored these expenses and determined that my income was "too high" for me to receive healthcare.

3. I cannot afford healthcare.

4. At the same time, the (Republican) government is giving a massive handout to a wealthy asshole, because despite all conservatives' talk about individualism and meritocracy, they love giving massive handouts to wealthy assholes who don't need them.

And in case any morons haven't stopped reading this after I called them morons, I know that "free" healthcare costs tax money. Everyone knows that. It's not the "gotcha" you think it is. Libraries cost tax money too, but my family loves those. I could have gotten healthcare with the taxes that I already paid, but instead, I helped murder children in the Middle East. That was essentially my response to my dad, which he didn't acknowledge because a. he never acknowledges when he's blatantly wrong and b. like most conservatives, he doesn't give a shit about children in the Middle East. If this country had real social safety nets, I would consider paying higher taxes a worthwhile tradeoff for not constantly being one financial emergency away from living on the street, and also, the taxes to fund universal healthcare would be cheaper than health insurance premiums because they wouldn't cover the salaries of parasites like the late Brian Thompson who make millions of dollars a year by denying people healthcare. This system would also tens of thousands of lives every year, but we've already established that people like my dad don't give a shit about things like that.

My dad has spent his life defending inequality and injustice. This was a source of tension between us long before I knew anything about politics. When I could plainly see that something was bullshit, he said, "That's the way it is." He confirmed, as if I didn't already know, that he sincerely believes that his own son shouldn't be able to afford something that every other country in the developed world treats as a human right. He could be angry about the racist secret police terrorizing communities and tearing famillies apart, or he could be angry about any of a thousand unconstitutional power grabs by his lesser of two evils that would have given him an aneurysm if Obama had done them, but instead, he's angry at the prospect of anyone who's not a wealthy asshole, including his own son, getting medical treatment without working sixty hours a week and selling their kidneys. I do not respect his differences in philosophy. They disgust me to my core. That, as I said, is why I don't talk to him.

The lack of empathy, though particularly appalling in this instance, is nothing new. I've been on the receiving end for as long as I can remember. Both of my parents have some mental disability that makes them incapable of empathizing with or trying to understand anything outside of their personal experience and narrow view of the world. My dad knew what it was like to not be able to swim because his skinny body sank like a rock, so he empathized with me on that, and that was about it. He didn't understand how my brain worked or how I saw the world, so he decided I was always wrong and had an attitude problem, and strangely enough, his authoritarian, violent responses gave me an attitude problem. It's not like we've never discussed this. Years ago, after reading my blog, he said he understood me better and was sorry for the things he messed up on. I mean, he could have understood me better a lot sooner if he had, y'know, asked, which he didn't do because he was the grown-up and thought he knew everything, but cool. He said we were both different people now. Yeah, no, he just made it clear that he's the same person who used to hit me for not understanding social cues. He can go to the doctor whenever he wants and get as much prostate medicine as he wants, so fuck me. He wasn't raped by an imploding economy from the time he was born like my entire generation was, so clearly he's in a superior financial situation because he worked harder and deserves it more.

Furthermore, I believe without question that he would have fought for the Confederacy because he's always been fixated on states' rights and considered minorities' suffering to be acceptable collateral damage for electing people who call themselves conservatives. That's a sobering realization. He also loves the electoral college, but in fairness, he probably doesn't know that it was primarily created to advantage Southern slaveowners.

It's bizarre, frankly, because it's not like everything my dad has said or done was unloving. We've had good times. He's done kind and generous things for me, and of course he thinks I'm ungrateful and unreasonable for not focusing on those things and pretending the rest doesn't matter. First of all, though I do count some of them, especially the ones he did when I was an adult, I don't believe I owe him lifelong gratitude for fulfilling the basic obligations of parenthood that he chose to take on (even the ones he didn't screw up). More to the point, however, the fact remains that you cannot love someone and be indifferent to whether they have access to healthcare. That shouldn't need to be said - ever - but here we are.

I continued:

"It's quite telling that your immediate impulse is to double down on being an asshole instead of having the slightest shred of empathy for your own son who hasn't been to a doctor in five years and plans on offing himself if he ever gets a condition that would put him in medical debt. I was feeling guilty that you might die someday without me ever attempting to re-establish a relationship, but now I don't. Thanks, I guess."

Also:

"btw, that time I called you was a mistake. I was copying your number to give to a friend so she could congratulate you on getting what you voted for if I got shot by an ICE agent. Then after your voicemail, I felt guilty and tried to call for real. Oh well."

He responded: "👍"

This means that either he doesn't give a shit about me never speaking to him again, or he wants me to think he doesn't give a shit about me never speaking to him again. Probably the former, because if he did, he could easily rectify the situation. He chose this. He would rather have a stick up his ass about Medicaid than have a relationship with his son. I respect his wishes even though I don't respect his views. Actually, in a perverse way, I almost admire his obstinacy. Maybe he'll use it for good someday.

The last thing I said before blocking his number was, "Don't expect me to go to your funeral and lie about what a great father you were." After having some time to calm down and reflect, though, I regret not also telling him that if I die first, he's not welcome at mine. That scenario isn't altogether unlikely because he has healthcare, and I don't. Could someone please let him know?

As for my mom, I've probably mentioned once or twice that I cut her off for saying "You could move to Costa Rica" when I told her I had to talk to a suicide hotline after the election, except that I've unblocked her number a few times to remind her of the blood that's on her hands for supporting a fascist. I called her an asshole, so calling my dad an asshole created balance. And now here I am, an orphan. Not much has really changed. I already wasn't talking to my parents, getting birthday or Christmas checks from my parents, planning on visiting my parents in the foreseeable future, or expecting to inherit anything when my parents die. (If I were as entitled as they think I am, I would pretend to like them so they'd send me checks and put me in their will.) And since I started using Kush Kubes, my depression has plummeted to almost nothing even when I'm not high. My anger hasn't. Sometimes I think I'm angrier than I used to be. If I am, it's because I live in an openly fascist country now, and I'm reacting appropriately. On the other hand, I've always had an anger issue, and maybe I'm just more self-conscious about it now because it's at odds with my desire to be enlightened and stuff. So my reaction to cutting off my dad was 95% anger, 5% depression, and the next day, I was over it. I wasn't even very angry when I wrote this. I just enjoy writing with powerful language.

Enough of that. Here's the uplifting note I promised. My dad has claimed, based on his Mormon beliefs, that when I was born, he got a strong impression that we were best friends in the premortal existence. He said this gave him strength when getting along was so difficult. I don't believe in Mormonism, but I still believe in a form of premortal existence, which makes philosophical sense is a recurring theme in near-death experiences. I'm open to the possibility that he's right about that one thing. That seemed unlikely for a while because in this existence, we have little in common. Sure, we enjoy four of the same Star Wars movies, we laugh at some of the same jokes, I love the Beatles and Roxette and David Arkenstone because of him, and I think his engineering skills are cool, but our beliefs and values are so different that we had little to talk about even when I was willing to try. If we weren't related, I would never have chosen to associate with him at all. And it's not like I expect my friends to be copies of me. I've argued with the woman of my dreams more than once, but not about human rights.

Now, it's my understanding that we're all here as actors, playing roles, and the things that divide us are not the full extent of our true selves. Furthermore, some NDErs claim that people who love each other in the premortal existence sometimes take on antagonistic roles here to help each other's grow. So maybe my dad and I did that. Maybe I specifically asked him to say that stupid shit about taxes. It's a nice idea that makes me not hate him. If my beliefs are correct, we can laugh this off when we're all dead. If his beliefs are correct, it doesn't matter how much of a relationship we have before then because I, along with his dad, most of his siblings, and another of his children, won't be part of his eternal family in the celestial kingdom after rejecting Mormonism. (To be clear, I think there's a 0% chance that his beliefs are correct.) If our consciousness ends at death, nothing matters. There are, of course, other possibilities besides those three, but none that I'm particularly concerned about in this context.

​I feel closer now. We both know where we stand. Now on with my life as an orphan.