I walked down to the park to use the swingset just trying to calm down… but there was a father at the park a father with his young daughter… so happy and full of love… there would be no calming down… the crack that had formed within me would not close…

My mom tried to intervene… I just left… and as I walked up to the grocery store to buy more buns something in me started to break… like the plates of the earth’s crust cracking apart to expel molten lava. My mom drove me back home in silence…

Last night it finally happened. We were cooking burgers and I burned the buns… he started screaming and cussing at me at the top of his lungs… over burned hamburger buns…

I always imagined that one day I would confront my father; confront him about his abuse, his hypocrisies, and for making me live for twenty years in a constant state of fight or flight just waiting for his next tantrum.

Twenty years of grief, and anger, and rage, and resentment. Bottled up roiling in my gut boiling in my veins. Any time someone called my name or texted me I braced waiting for them to start screaming at me and belittling me or worse…

From the numerous spankings that all blur together to the time he punched the wind out of my chest in elementary school because he felt disrespected by nervous laughter. I have carried the trauma of my father’s emotional and physical abuse for twenty long years…

When I was four years old I threw a toy horse at my sister and made her cry. My father responded by slapping me across the face and then he backhanded over and over again. It’s the first time I can remember my father hitting me but it would not be the last.

Well I’ll be going to bed soon so it cannot get any worse.

Thank you so fucking much for this; I’ve been having an absolutely shit night and this put a smile right on my lips

@anarchoshanties.bsky.social Guess Mira can add me to the list of people they’ve warhammer pilled because I made some gay little space elf pirates