I hate pity, honest to God I hate pity. This is not a pity thread, nor do I ask for it. I ask for help, which is very rare to me. I rarely ask for help, and I rarely have a breakdown like I'm having now. On Wednesday, I'm leaving for New Orleans for a week to get away from my father. Why? Because he's emotionally abused me since the day I was born and my mother is incredibly worried that I might commit suicide if I stay in my hometown any longer and listen to his comments towards me. Although I don't see how it would do any good, because the risk for my life ending still exist when I return, I'm losing hope. My father has gone too far this time. At first, I was able to shrug it off, but now I can't. I can't run from him any longer and I'm forever burned inside because of him. As much as I'd like to, it doesn't seem right for me to blame him for the way I am. Why I hate everything and everyone on earth, why I hate to live, or why I hate to wake up in the morning. But somehow, for some reason, I can't. Just like I can't go on telling him to **** off, or leave me alone. Instead, I listen to him yell at me, tell me my flaws as if I don't see them in myself everyday, and tell me why my mother should have had an abortion. So instead of listening to his comments, I'll go to New Orleans for a week where I can
think about the hurtful comments he's said towards me...I've had people tell me, "Don't listen to him Hannah, you're so much better than him," but you know what? It's impossible to believe such comments because deep down inside, I'm agreeing with the things he's said to me. Instead of thinking of my good qualities, I see my bad because of him. Every single night since I was 5 years old, I've had nightmares and for some reason, I wonder if it's because of him. Is it his fault I have nightmares every night? Is it his fault I've had thoughts of suicide, and attempts? Is it his fault that I'm depressed or that I'm a horrible person? Is it his fault that I've woken up crying, screaming, and kicking from my nightmares? I wonder, but once again, I deep down disagree. That it's my own fault. My own fault, that my father hates me. For those of you reading this, don't you
dare try to tell me that he doesn't hate me, and don't you
dare preach to me about God, I'm ****ing agnostic. I don't listen to that bull****. I want help, not sympathy. I don't want someone to tell me how they feel, because you don't know how I feel. No one does. Everyone feels differently, it's impossible to know how someone feels. Aside from my father, the numerous other problems in my life seem to fill in the blanks where his hurt doesn't. So whether he pushes me over the edge or not, the other problems will because in the end, life always ends up cheating you.
The man who smiles when things go wrong has thought of someone to blame it on. - Robert Bloch