silver blue and frozen silence

When my dad dies I’m either not going to go to his funeral if he even has one or I’ll show up and just talk about all the ways over the course of my life he’s made it hell and made me want to die and how much of a hateful piece of shit asshole he was. And I can’t fucking wait for that day. I wish I believed in hell so that he could go there

I doubt he’s going to get a funeral anyway because like neither of my grandparents got one so idk who would set that up. Maybe my brother because he’s the golden child and has a great relationship with him. But this is something I’ve thought about before, all the things I would say about how he’s mistreated me and been abusive and hateful and constantly angry and been the most negative influence in my life by far. I could go on for fucking hours. There’s so much. He is such a vile black-hearted piece of shit and the world would be better if he were gone. I know my life would be better. Like you know the book I’m glad my mom died? I fucking get it. (Also I read that book or rather listened to the audiobook and I loved it, and could relate somewhat to her mom because all these abusers are the same.) I stopped having any love for him years ago. There’s fucking none. I can’t even stand being around him for any length of time. He’s like a toxic cloud that makes my whole environment worse. I’ve lived through almost 3 decades of his abuse and I don’t know how I’m still taking it. I guess because I don’t have a choice. I don’t have any outside support. My mom lives on the other side of the country now and I couldn’t even live with her when she lived on the same side. I have my dogs and my friends from my trans support group and that’s it. And I’m so lucky to have them because otherwise I don’t know what I’d do. I’m already suffering for so long. I’ve been saying this same shit for years and years and years and I’m sick of it but idk what else I can do at this point. I’m just so tired.

I just don’t get how I’m supposed to forget all his abuse over the years. I remember him getting in fights with my mom every night. I still have trouble falling asleep because I would be paralyzed in bed listening to them argue and I physically couldn’t reach over for my headphones to block it out. I have to take 3 beta blockers every night just to be able to fall asleep and it’s still so difficult. I remember him chasing after my mom because she wouldn’t give him her phone and her yelling at me to call 911. I remember him kicking my mom and being arrested and spending the night in jail while my mom and I went to stay at my friend’s house. I remember my mom and I going to stay at my grandparents’ house uninvited because we were too fucking scared to go home and see him because he had called and was screaming at us. I remember me literally telling him he was verbally abusive when I was 11 years old. I remember the countless times I would lie awake feeling suicidal. Sometimes I would go on r/SuicideWatch and just scroll because it kind of weirdly made me feel better even though it probably didn’t help. But that was the only thing I could think about. I’m not suicidal now but I’m still depressed and I still get hurt whenever he screams at me. I remember when I was moving out of my college dorm for the year and him screaming at me the entire fucking time and yelling “fuck you” at me for everyone to hear. That was on my birthday and I spent that being suicidal too. Even this last birthday a couple months ago he had another meltdown and I had to spend it dealing with his anger and hatred. Tonight he blew up at me again because I was upset about hearing Fox News shit on trans women for the umpteenth time and he told me nobody cares and I’m the hateful one for not tolerating other people’s beliefs. I tried not to get in an argument with him and I kept saying over and over I didn’t want to talk about it but he instigated anyway because that’s all he knows. Anger. He goes to church every Sunday btw, I see that’s really working out for him. Anyway. I remember all this and I’ve gone to therapy for years and years and spent thousands of dollars of my own money on therapy and now I don’t go to therapy anymore because it’s not worth it. They’ll just say I need to get out and I fucking know that but I don’t know how. If a therapist wants to offer me a house that would be great. For now I’m stuck. Maybe I’ll be stuck forever. I don’t know.

Also something I forgot to mention which was like the main point of me saying I’d want to just talk about all the ways he’s abused me at his hypothetical funeral is that those are my memories of him. Usually when loved ones die you talk about the good memories and what you loved about them but I won’t do that because this is what I’m going to remember about him. Not anything good he did because it’s outweighed by the bad. And there are too many bad memories to just brush them aside. This is the legacy he’s leaving behind. I’m always going to think of him as a shitty parent and a stupid asshole who was angry all the time. That’s his fault for acting that way. I imagine my mom will feel the same, probably my stepdad too (besides being her husband he’s worked with my dad personally and he did not like it). Isn’t that sad? Kind of makes you want to treat people nicely so that when you die others will remember your good traits and not your flaws. Anyway he’s not dead yet, knowing my luck he’ll probably live to 105, but I highly doubt anything is going to change in the future that will make me suddenly love him because that ship has sailed

When my dad dies I’m either not going to go to his funeral if he even has one or I’ll show up and just talk about all the ways over the course of my life he’s made it hell and made me want to die and how much of a hateful piece of shit asshole he was. And I can’t fucking wait for that day. I wish I believed in hell so that he could go there

I doubt he’s going to get a funeral anyway because like neither of my grandparents got one so idk who would set that up. Maybe my brother because he’s the golden child and has a great relationship with him. But this is something I’ve thought about before, all the things I would say about how he’s mistreated me and been abusive and hateful and constantly angry and been the most negative influence in my life by far. I could go on for fucking hours. There’s so much. He is such a vile black-hearted piece of shit and the world would be better if he were gone. I know my life would be better. Like you know the book I’m glad my mom died? I fucking get it. (Also I read that book or rather listened to the audiobook and I loved it, and could relate somewhat to her mom because all these abusers are the same.) I stopped having any love for him years ago. There’s fucking none. I can’t even stand being around him for any length of time. He’s like a toxic cloud that makes my whole environment worse. I’ve lived through almost 3 decades of his abuse and I don’t know how I’m still taking it. I guess because I don’t have a choice. I don’t have any outside support. My mom lives on the other side of the country now and I couldn’t even live with her when she lived on the same side. I have my dogs and my friends from my trans support group and that’s it. And I’m so lucky to have them because otherwise I don’t know what I’d do. I’m already suffering for so long. I’ve been saying this same shit for years and years and years and I’m sick of it but idk what else I can do at this point. I’m just so tired.

I just don’t get how I’m supposed to forget all his abuse over the years. I remember him getting in fights with my mom every night. I still have trouble falling asleep because I would be paralyzed in bed listening to them argue and I physically couldn’t reach over for my headphones to block it out. I have to take 3 beta blockers every night just to be able to fall asleep and it’s still so difficult. I remember him chasing after my mom because she wouldn’t give him her phone and her yelling at me to call 911. I remember him kicking my mom and being arrested and spending the night in jail while my mom and I went to stay at my friend’s house. I remember my mom and I going to stay at my grandparents’ house uninvited because we were too fucking scared to go home and see him because he had called and was screaming at us. I remember me literally telling him he was verbally abusive when I was 11 years old. I remember the countless times I would lie awake feeling suicidal. Sometimes I would go on r/SuicideWatch and just scroll because it kind of weirdly made me feel better even though it probably didn’t help. But that was the only thing I could think about. I’m not suicidal now but I’m still depressed and I still get hurt whenever he screams at me. I remember when I was moving out of my college dorm for the year and him screaming at me the entire fucking time and yelling “fuck you” at me for everyone to hear. That was on my birthday and I spent that being suicidal too. Even this last birthday a couple months ago he had another meltdown and I had to spend it dealing with his anger and hatred. Tonight he blew up at me again because I was upset about hearing Fox News shit on trans women for the umpteenth time and he told me nobody cares and I’m the hateful one for not tolerating other people’s beliefs. I tried not to get in an argument with him and I kept saying over and over I didn’t want to talk about it but he instigated anyway because that’s all he knows. Anger. He goes to church every Sunday btw, I see that’s really working out for him. Anyway. I remember all this and I’ve gone to therapy for years and years and spent thousands of dollars of my own money on therapy and now I don’t go to therapy anymore because it’s not worth it. They’ll just say I need to get out and I fucking know that but I don’t know how. If a therapist wants to offer me a house that would be great. For now I’m stuck. Maybe I’ll be stuck forever. I don’t know.

When my dad dies I’m either not going to go to his funeral if he even has one or I’ll show up and just talk about all the ways over the course of my life he’s made it hell and made me want to die and how much of a hateful piece of shit asshole he was. And I can’t fucking wait for that day. I wish I believed in hell so that he could go there

I doubt he’s going to get a funeral anyway because like neither of my grandparents got one so idk who would set that up. Maybe my brother because he’s the golden child and has a great relationship with him. But this is something I’ve thought about before, all the things I would say about how he’s mistreated me and been abusive and hateful and constantly angry and been the most negative influence in my life by far. I could go on for fucking hours. There’s so much. He is such a vile black-hearted piece of shit and the world would be better if he were gone. I know my life would be better. Like you know the book I’m glad my mom died? I fucking get it. (Also I read that book or rather listened to the audiobook and I loved it, and could relate somewhat to her mom because all these abusers are the same.) I stopped having any love for him years ago. There’s fucking none. I can’t even stand being around him for any length of time. He’s like a toxic cloud that makes my whole environment worse. I’ve lived through almost 3 decades of his abuse and I don’t know how I’m still taking it. I guess because I don’t have a choice. I don’t have any outside support. My mom lives on the other side of the country now and I couldn’t even live with her when she lived on the same side. I have my dogs and my friends from my trans support group and that’s it. And I’m so lucky to have them because otherwise I don’t know what I’d do. I’m already suffering for so long. I’ve been saying this same shit for years and years and years and I’m sick of it but idk what else I can do at this point. I’m just so tired.