One of these days you will die. Someone I love, and hate greatly. I will never shed tears for you. After all your violence and your hate I will fight showing relief when you die. It is not my fault for hating you so much, I fought this feeling through many years. I just cannot forget, and thus, can never forgive you. I prayed often when younger that the gods would show mercy on my mother and kill you. I prayed that she would find the strength to leave you. You are a person full of hate and violence. I know a great deal of that is the only thing that you know. I know your life was full of violence before your family came to be. I had years of memories, not all terrible. You were a father to me occasionally, between drinks. But I cannot forget. Thus, I can never forgive. When the day comes you die, I will fight the relief. The violence will end with you. ~A warning that this gets detailed and very violent from here on. This is where Connors, Whit and my birth father (though highly unlikely to ever read this) specifically need to stop reading if you ever get to this point, because I know these things will honestly make you physically ill. If my sister or brother(again quite unlikely) ever read this, it is up to you whether you want continue, I am sorry however if you ever do even get this far, this will put the pieces together for you as well and its hard understanding what was going on. I love you guys.~ If you wish to continue onto part II, the just click the Read more button right....below................Here......... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was from a different time than us. She was from a twisted family too. Wives were to obey their husbands. If he wasn’t trying to kill her than he wasn’t really doing violence, he was just being stupid and not understanding what he was doing was wrong and hurting her so much. But he watched her deal with the effects of what he did to her. He knew about the blood and the pain. He would tell her that if she ever tried to leave him that he would throw her out of the house. He controlled his funds so that they were cut off from her, and told her she would get nothing. She would never get anything. She would walk away will no home and no food for her kids. So she stayed. In our adulthood she mentioned one day that she stayed with him for us. My little brother was the first to tell her that he would have rather grew up with less. That he would have been spared being yelled at constantly and being told how worthless and stupid he was. I am the only one of the kids that I know that knows what happened. Not to say that it hasn’t come up to my siblings. My mother’s advice and opinions on what rape is, and what a husband is privileged to take from you has slipped out to my sister and sister-in-law. I was mad at her for it. ‘Boys will be boys’ is not an excuse to rape or be abusive. I don’t want my sisters to ever experience it too. They also know our fathers opinion on all things sex. In his opinion, all women crave it all the time; they are all just dirty sex maniacs, those who disagree just grew up being prudes and screwing them over the years anyway will silence their saying no. He would even offer up my mother to screw to other men at parties, telling them to help themselves, that she would stop fighting after a while because all women were just whores. It is amazing what doesn’t raise red flags. I suppose however that he was either loved and looked up to or hated and avoided by people. Sometimes it surprises me how many looked up to him. He was a money flasher who would make his family of puppets dance for the company. I suppose that’s how he ended up with so many dirty men for friends. He disrespected her in front of everyone, treated her like shit and encouraged everyone else to treat her the same. It was never about love, never an error in communication, it was power and dominance. And it worked. She felt helpless. His threats and what she learned was normal husband and wife duties kept her there. She sacrificed herself. In the later years when booze became less of a problem, she was having troubles sleeping. When she did sleep it was a heavy and deep one. He learned how to take advantage of these situations and found a new way to rape her. One time her forgetfulness brought her to finding out what he was doing, since the pain and blood wasn’t new to her but now a chronic problem. She told me after that it was okay though. She wouldn’t dare take another sleeping pill, and wore more clothes to bed to protect herself. This is the sanctity of marriage that people are trying to protect? Since when does a woman need to try to protect herself in her own bed from rape? From her own husband? To an extent it has screwed me up. When I see any signs or opinions similar to these in a guy I get far away. But it extends into even a bit of personality or unrelated similarities. It’s screwed up my brother, and after being full of hate and opinions similar to our fathers, it has only taken him a decade to understand his father’s real flaws and become a great person. I honestly think he will treat a woman right and never fall into any of our father’s violent patterns. It took him just as long though to try to learn how to respect our mother though. He is still quick to criticize and belittle her even though she is, by far, the most important person in his life. My mother keeps her silence with any of the other kids, them not stumbling onto as much as I did, and being used to not asking any questions. I feel ill when I think about it. I feel sorry that Trav had to help me get through it. After putting all of the pieces together and confronting my mother with it I had to try to keep living with knowing it all, understanding finally how many different ways he would rape and threaten her. If Trav wasn’t there I wouldn’t have been able to live with it. I already had trust with Trav, so I was lucky to not develop serious trust issues; he was there for me completely, even if he never got to know that it wasn’t a past thing that was hitting me so hard but still a current one. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back knowing that it was something of the present. That over a decade, and it’s still happening. In the last few years some of her reasons of staying being that its almost the end of both of their lives and she feels that she would never see my sisters kids or be a part of their lives if she ever left him. Its sick, but it’s terribly true. My sister loves our father, and will always try to have the kids see him. In this way my mother can be there to try to shield them from who he is and what he preaches. She loves them just as she loved us and is being the sacrifice again. It is terrible that some of my siblings still treat her like she holds no real value, but is simply a mockery, ignoring how hard she worked for us. These things will probably never be spoken of once he actually passes, so I will let it out now so that I might be able to resist then. I’ve also decided to share this because it does shed light on how I relate to the previous comment about a domestically violent father and the culture that excused him. It also has been on my mind due to my mother’s problems sleeping again and how I can never suggest anything that will help her out of fear for her safety. I apologize for those who had strong enough of a stomach to get to this point. This past is what helped mold my views now, and ties into my constant preaching of people to stand up against violence so this is where my ‘annoying’ strength/stubbornness on moral matters comes from. Sorry.
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Kris
I am a Bi+Trans geeky student who is all about Gaming, Music, Drawing, Writing, Anime, Comic books, and Web comics. Categories
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April 2016
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