Tuesday, 24 April 2012
Do you ever wish bad things on people you're supposed to care about? On other people at all?
I find myself frequently not only despising my father but also hoping that his punishment for the laws he broke (I can't discuss the legal situation in detail here for a while, sorry) is jail, that his over-exaggerated minor-at-best health problems end up being serious instead of laughable, and all others sorts of things like that. He broke a tooth today, and I enjoyed that. He compares my Crohn's disease to his mild constipation and claims his is worse and he has more of a right to complain than I ever do, and more than anything, I wish he could feel my pain at its worst.
It is horrifying to my rational mind to have these hateful, irrational thoughts, but at the same time, I'm not sorry. He has been emotionally abusive since I was a child, and the way things have come to a peak here, I can't help it. Seeing his disgustingly hideous face makes me cringe, and sharing this home-free house with the likes of his presence is skin crawling. I used to be content here, but now I cannot wait to finish off my last two years of college, find work elsewhere, and move as far away as possible.
I know I have not been innocent in the tenuous relationship between my father and myself. I, however, was a child when the trouble began, and those instances set up the pieces to the domino effect that would follow after I turned 12 or so. By the time I was 15 or 16, I came to realize my deep-seeded dislike of the man-child, and after the events that took place in March, there is no doubt that I struggle to recognize him as a father. And that's not only sad, it's also confusing. People will argue, "You only have one father. And you have to love your father!" Well, yes, I indeed only have one father, thankfully, but his contributions to my life have been largely bad ones. Love denotes that you care about the well-being of the person, and beyond that of simple human expectations, I honestly don't feel that way. It's not something I can control, and it's highly irrational, but it's there, and it seeps into every aspect of how I regard him.
I don't want him to die. I don't want anyone to die. Really, I wouldn't even want to see harm come to him when it came down to it, as if it were anyone else. I just want him out of my life.
How do you live with someone like that? I have nowhere else to go, no money or job to support myself, and no idea where to even start looking for something else, so I know I have to find a way to get through this without committing a crime myself. It is scary to think that he may get house arrest and be here even more than he already is.