He constantly tells me what a terrible daughter I am, how stupid and worthless I am, how I will never go to college, how I'll always be poor
I try to forget, but even now I feel like I'm about to burst with sadness.
Whenever I try to discuss college I get told that I am a failure and how I will never be good at anything except laying on my back.
Sometimes it's just so hard to keep my head up and not cry because swimming against a current is hard.
2. Overall, he's a pretty good father...when he's not angry. When I was younger, I could remember him being a polite, caring, charming man outside of the home. From what I could tell, people loved him. Behind closed doors, however, he was another creature...full of rage, stress, and unkind words.
From then on, it continued to snowball.
He was and still is a controlling, manipulative person who wants to know every aspect of my life and belittle me as though I as an adult cannot handle myself.
He has called me every name under the sun and has mocked me and laughed at me.
It's gotten worse and I have been preparing to move out from underneath his tyrannical rule.
Once he decides what it is that I did, it is his new reality and he seeks to punish me for whatever he is he mistakenly thinks I did.
I am a happy-go-lucky, friendly, loving, and optimistic person. I always see the best in people and I am so trusting--possibly to a fault. I credit my attitude on life to my mother who has put up with my dad for decades
Even my school life was a nightmare for me. It was filled with endless taunting that I was too embarrassed to seek help from.
My childhood is one thing that I will never miss.
4. Part of me is thankful for my father. His constant verbal abuse encouraged me to strive to be a better person. I am nothing like him and never want to be like him.
• A perfect family? Granted, my mother was the kind of mother every child in the world should have. She would go out of her way to make sure my two sisters and I were happy. No matter what the situation, she always made sacrifices to help us.
My father on the other hand, only truly ever cared about himself. He would spend almost all of the family’s money on his vehicles and spent all of his free-time maintaining his precious motorcycles.