I can’t forgive my father…

I remember all the terrible things my father did when I was a kid.

I remember how he used to cuss me and my siblings out.

I remember how we used to get beat.

I remember how my oldest brother and my mom got it the worst.

I remember how much fear me and my brothers had when we’d hear the garage door open, we’d all hurry up to our bedrooms.

I remember how he threw me across my room once

I remember how much he’d tell me that I embarrassed him after a football game and he’d imitate me in a ridiculous manner while explaining to me how stupid I looked.

I never wanted to play football but he always insisted every year up until my sophomore year of high school when I moved in with mom.

I remember hearing mom and dad arguing, slamming doors, and screaming.

I remember hearing mom and dad rustling in the kitchen and then hearing mom telling my oldest brother to call the police.

I remember my father telling me he failed me in the car when I brought back failing grades on my report card in high school.

Oh those darn progress reports and report cards where the worst. He’d spend hours berating and cussing us out over them and then sometimes hitting us.

Sometimes my father didn’t like moms dinner, he’d throw the plate at the wall and when he was impatiently waiting at the table he’d slam his fist on the table with a fork in the other hand demanding her to hurry up.

I can go on and on…

Fast forward to today and he spends most of his time alone. A part of me understands that he did in fact support me financially. I understand that he doesn’t hit me anymore. But I’m still afraid of him and dread his presence. He’s still a dick when it comes to how he talks to me. I never get a say in how I live my life.

I feel trapped even though I really shouldn’t. I still get scared when I hear the garage door open even though I really shouldn’t.

There’s a part of him that cares. I mean why else would he support me despite me being 28 years old?

He’s trying to make up for the past. He is trying these days but I’m sickened tired of him. I don’t know why I keep letting him control my life.

I would’ve left long ago if I wasn’t such an idiot in the past with my drinking behavior. I’ve got over $10,000 in fines and over $3,000 in hospital bills.

Right now he won’t let me work because he doesn’t trust me in being able to hold down a job without relapsing on alcohol.

I now understand that alcohol isn’t helping me get ahead financially. But boy do I get urges to drink when he’s home.

I’m just playing pretend right now. I’m telling him the pills are working because he thinks Naltrexone is the miracle drug I’ve needed all these years. But if I tell him the truth, if I tell him the drug isn’t working on me, if I tell him AA isn’t working, he won’t let me work in the future.

I don’t have a car anymore due to a past DUI but I’d totally pack all my stuff and leave if I could.

My aunt has offered me a room in her house and she’s nearby. She says I can stay with her if I choose to.

That’s my plan of escape.

But I don’t want to pack up while he’s here because then he’ll get upset and start saying terrible things.

My plan is to pack up when he’s not home and put my belongings in a storage unit.

I don’t have much. All of my belongings can fit in a little 5 x 5 storage unit with spare space left.

I’m just waiting to hear back from the court. There’s a chance I might be going back to jail for missing one of my monthly fine payments. The judge asked me to catch up on that before the next court date and I have but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. It’s an “order to show cause” and I’ve done my part on my end.

I wish I could change the past or somehow heal my father but I have to accept that I can’t.

Me staying here isn’t healthy. This past week I spent most of my days laying in bed and afraid because my father was home. I didn’t even leave the house. My body aches for sunlight and exercise.

I gotta leave.

And once I do I think I’ll reconnect with my inner child, nature and that olé sense of humor I used to express all the time back then. The piano sounds like a good idea too ?

My older brother is a boss at some construction company. Apparently there’s tons of overtime hours available. I’m gonna work for him once I move out from here.