My father has cancer, lung cancer from smoking his entire life.
He was being treated, going under chemotherapy and responding so well his doctor was talking about cure instead of remission. But how does he celebrate the news?
He starts smoking again.
The most infuriating thing is how he thinks he’s hiding it from the whole family, even though he’s been caught in the act by me and also by my mother, more than once.
If we mention something about his “little secret” he starts yelling at us and swears he’s not smoking anymore, even though he smells like an ash tray and has “hidden” cigarettes in his room.
It’s enraging how he underestimates everyone’s intelligence to even think someone would believe any of his primary and childish lies, most specially when we’ve got proof that he’s lying.
I hate him so much it’s making me physically sick and it’s tearing me apart, and I wish I didn’t feel this way, but he’s the most selfish, self absorbed person I’ve ever known and he is deliberately choosing to make us suffer by forcing us to sit back and watch him die as he plays the victim in a situation he didn’t have to be in (since he had the chance of being cured).
I truly think he’s doing it for the attention, to force us all to take care of him, because he IS that type of needy person.
Now he won’t go back to his doctor, he’s skipping his appointments, not getting any exams and using the most ridiculous excuses to justify his shitty actions.
I wish I was a shitty person. I wish I had enough cold blood in my veins to get him in the car, drag his pathetic ass to the cancer ward of the closest hospital and force him to see, to talk to terminal patients, to tell them how he could’ve been cured and chose to throw that chance away… but I don’t have that in me. I may be at war with myself, but still refuse to let him take away whatever good is left in me.