Yesterday I had a big breakdown. I guess it kind of started because the day before my mom had said that maybe she and I could sit down somewhere and get ice cream while we came up with my journal plan for gym class. The school is letting me work out at home to make up for the first half of the year. I just have to walk the track or halls to pass for the rest of the year. But anyways.. my mom was also planning on buying herself a nice digital camera. She loves photography. So she was talking to me and said that maybe she should leave my little sister and I at home so she could run and get her camera and then maybe just she and I could go out and do my journal thing. And for some reason, that made me flip out. Of course I didn't yell about that, though. I was crying and then I was screaming and then I was slamming my bedroom door and turning my music up loud, and then I knew that I needed to talk to mom. Next thing I know, mom is on the computer and I'm on the floor in the doorway sitting against the wall, screaming and crying again. A lot of what I was saying was that I wanted to die. And then, go figure, I got onto the subject of DAD. Ah, the source of all my anger. I said, or yelled should I say, something about him and as soon as I did I shut up and just sat there crying. I don't think I've ever felt a bigger urge than I did then to tell my dad how much I hate him. I love him, I really do, but I hate him so much at the same time. I wanted to write him an email and tell him how much he's hurt me and my family. I wanted to ask him why he did the things he did. I want to know why he was never there, and why he couldn't just love us. Sure, he loves us, but he doesn't really know how to care. He's so obsessed with having a good image. I just don't understand HOW he can be so cold.
Now that I think about it, his new wife really is mostly just a replacement. After mom left him -- don't take that the wrong way, she left him because he was disgustingly abusive to us, verbally mostly but physically too -- he tried to make her look like the bad guy. He no longer had the good father and family man image, so he found my stepmom to replace it. Now he's living in London, he's got one of the biggest jobs at the Natural History museum, and he's got a wife. I like her, but I also feel bad for her. I don't know how he treats her when they're alone, but I'm not sure I want to know. I just hope to god that he doesn't scream at her or abuse her like he did us. I love her, I really do.
I feel so torn between these feelings of love and hate. Do I love my dad? Or do I hate him? Or both? It hurts so much to hate my dad, I can't even describe it. It's one of the worst pains I've ever felt. I don't understand how I can hate someone this much who I love at the same time. And I'm so sick of thinking about this. I just want it to go away. If he had just been a dad to us and a husband to my mom, I wouldn't have all the problems I do now. I wouldn't have such a hard time trusting people. I wouldn't have this horrible social phobia. But, because of him, I am even more determined to overcome these things. My brother and sisters retaliated by making bad decisions. I'm going to get through all this, and whether he knows it or not I'll be showing everyone that even after all the sickening things he's done to us, I can still live my life. I refuse to let him destroy it. I refuse to let him destroy ME.