Mind Fuck.

8/27/2005 06:56:00 PM Edit This 0 Comments »


So I am scheduled (or as you Americans say : Skeduled) to see the school psychiatrist again, on Thursday coming, to find out if I need to be put to mood stabilizers aka Zoloft. I was given 2 months to come out of my trauma induced depression, without the aid of pharmaceuticals, and I think I've done pretty well. Well, minus the bout of moodiness and sudden tears that I blame soundly on PMS that is.

So once again I get to go sit in her office (hole in the wall at my tiny college) and see how long it takes her to get me to burst into tears talking about my dsyfunctional childhood and idiot father. The past two occasions it took less than 10 minutes, this time I'm going for the record.

Talking about the idiot father, he has suddenly decided to go back to being Daddy again. This of course includes me baby sitting his illegitimate son, also known as my little half brother. If this is what it means to be at some kind of unspoken truce between the both of us, well, mostly him, I think I'd rather the long, awkward silences and grunts of acknowledgement.

My little brother is 8 years old. Born in the midst of marital strife between my parents and right at the beginning of my adolesence. So not only was it, "Oh my god, I'm getting breasts, acne and armpit hair". It was also "Here K, look after the little brother I got for you that you mother didn't bear, doesn't know about and wouldn't care to know... so let's keep it a secret and lie to her at all costs." Let's just say my teenage years weren't the best I could have had. Still isn't considering I'm only one year over that hill.

It was really interesting how I came to know the little illegitimate munchkin. Basically, I had a Solar System project to do at my best friend's house and I was just leaving a great weekend at my cousin's house. My father had called and said he was outside waiting for me to take me to that friend's house and said that I should hurry outside. So I packed my bags in haste, said a rushed goodbye to my cousins and their dogs and ran outside to my father's Datsun Bluebird.

I see my father (who is also a karate sensei) and his friend (another sensei) in the car. My father smiles at me and I get into the backseat. I put my bags down and see an empty carseat in the back. Confused but indifferent, I take my favorite position in the car (kneeling on the seat with my arms around the driver's headrest), I see a small infant in my father's friend's arms. I gasp and proceed to ooh and aah at the baby. To my surprise, daddy lets me hold the baby in the backseat. So feeling like a "big girl", I sit back stiffly but responsibly in the seat and hold the baby in my protective 11 year old arms. Then the questions start.

Me: "Sensei R (my dad's friend) is this your baby?"
Sensei R: *uncomfortable silence* "No, K. It isn't"
Me: Oh ok.
*pause*
Me: Who's is it then?
Daddy: It's yours honey.
Me: *puzzled* *eyebrow cocks* Haha Daddy I didn't have a baby.
Daddy: *His eyes fixated on the road before him* No K, you didn't. I had one.
Me: *matter-of-factly* Boys can't have babies Daddy. Stop being silly.
Daddy: It's your brother dear.
Me: What are you talking about? My mother didn't have a baby? Did we adopt one?
Daddy: No we didn't. And I know your mother didn't make one. But it's your brother.
Me: Oh ok. If you say so. Who made him then?
Daddy: Another lady.
Me: Who is not my mother?
Daddy: *silence*
Me: Right?
Daddy: Yes.
Me: Does mummy know this?
Daddy: No. And we won't tell her okay. She'll get mad at us and it would hurt her.
Me: *silence*
Daddy: Ok.
Me: Ok Daddy. *thinks* (I so don't get this)

I am sincerely beginning to think my father is the reason why I am such a good liar today.

Thanks Dad.

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