ChiseHatori
Member
- Mar 2, 2023
- 84
To the person who probably made me this way...
I understand you were adopted. I know you were abused. I know how the cycle of abuse works. I know that I most likely only experienced a fraction of what you went through. But it gives you no fucking right to have raised me the way you did.
First off, and this is all gonna be really disorganized but whatever, why the FUCK did you and your creepy ass husband try to PRESSURE me into DRINKING FUCKING ALCOHOL UNDERAGE. You literally TAUGHT me to avoid that shit because my actual fucking FATHER was a RAGING ALCOHOLIC who BEAT you when he was drunk. And only then. You instilled this to me, from a VERY young age that alcohol would turn me into a monster. Or at least that the risk was there, to avoid it. Only to turn around 10 years later and tell me that it's fucking fine, that I'm a sensitive baby as usual. My fucking angel of a step sister had to drink the shot for me and you were off my back, and I hate you so fucking much...
Anyway.
Why do you have to leave me alone with these thoughts? That spiral in my head and leave me crying alone in my room, 9 years later?
Why do I feel pity...?
You used to scream at the top of your lungs. You used to wail. You used to laugh at how stunned I was.
You made fun of me for breaking up fights between you and your husband, yeah, the one that was all creepy to me. And multiple others I'm sure.
I remember when we went to hotels to get away from him. And I felt relieved - maybe this will be the time you finally leave him. And I begged sometimes, I want to say I did at least, but so much of my fucking memory is blocked out. I know I at least asked over and over again, and you complained, he'll change, he's doing better. It's so fucking typical, the textbook abuse was almost hilarious in retrospect.
But it's still happening, and you wouldn't listen, and we haven't talked in maybe 5 years now? I didn't bother to count. I haven't missed you. But I've mourned the idea of having a loving parent. The idea of my sober dad - he was kind when sober, as much as my family said he was anyway. I know I was much more his kid than yours. Of my few baby photos, the vast majority are with HIM - hardly any with YOU. Why did this fucking happen (rhetoric... I know the reasons).
Why does alcohol have to fucking exist? Every time I see that shit I just see my dad's grave. And I know I'm not the only one.
My dad killed himself, you almost overdosed, supposedly, and I've had an uncountable amount of petty attempts...
Why can't I just tell you all of this to your face? Because I know it would destroy you.
I understand you were adopted. I know you were abused. I know how the cycle of abuse works. I know that I most likely only experienced a fraction of what you went through. But it gives you no fucking right to have raised me the way you did.
First off, and this is all gonna be really disorganized but whatever, why the FUCK did you and your creepy ass husband try to PRESSURE me into DRINKING FUCKING ALCOHOL UNDERAGE. You literally TAUGHT me to avoid that shit because my actual fucking FATHER was a RAGING ALCOHOLIC who BEAT you when he was drunk. And only then. You instilled this to me, from a VERY young age that alcohol would turn me into a monster. Or at least that the risk was there, to avoid it. Only to turn around 10 years later and tell me that it's fucking fine, that I'm a sensitive baby as usual. My fucking angel of a step sister had to drink the shot for me and you were off my back, and I hate you so fucking much...
Anyway.
Why do you have to leave me alone with these thoughts? That spiral in my head and leave me crying alone in my room, 9 years later?
Why do I feel pity...?
You used to scream at the top of your lungs. You used to wail. You used to laugh at how stunned I was.
You made fun of me for breaking up fights between you and your husband, yeah, the one that was all creepy to me. And multiple others I'm sure.
I remember when we went to hotels to get away from him. And I felt relieved - maybe this will be the time you finally leave him. And I begged sometimes, I want to say I did at least, but so much of my fucking memory is blocked out. I know I at least asked over and over again, and you complained, he'll change, he's doing better. It's so fucking typical, the textbook abuse was almost hilarious in retrospect.
But it's still happening, and you wouldn't listen, and we haven't talked in maybe 5 years now? I didn't bother to count. I haven't missed you. But I've mourned the idea of having a loving parent. The idea of my sober dad - he was kind when sober, as much as my family said he was anyway. I know I was much more his kid than yours. Of my few baby photos, the vast majority are with HIM - hardly any with YOU. Why did this fucking happen (rhetoric... I know the reasons).
Why does alcohol have to fucking exist? Every time I see that shit I just see my dad's grave. And I know I'm not the only one.
My dad killed himself, you almost overdosed, supposedly, and I've had an uncountable amount of petty attempts...
Why can't I just tell you all of this to your face? Because I know it would destroy you.
