Abuser and abused

I'm not one who can easily forgive others. Given my tendency to dwell in the past, I do not forgive or forget. Even though I have been bad, I do not forgive those who hurt me. This is why I cannot forgive myself.

My abuser turned me into an abuser.

I hate him so much and yet, I remember many instances where I emulated his behavior. It can't be helped. He was around me from the time I was a child and as much as I hated and feared him, I could not help but take on his traits.

My mother who was significantly better also gave me traits I'm better off without.

My father taught me anger, blacking out in rage, physical violence, degrading others, having too much ego, needing others to surrender to my will, expecting everyone around me to simply continue to accept me and worst of all: not being able to handle the fact that you are hated and unwanted. As any abuser would be by the people they are hurting. I know all of these things quite well.

Most, I felt. Others I acted on. And the rest, I struggle daily to keep contained. It's been hell!

My mother taught me cowardice, fear, complacency in the face of abuse and the ability to always panic and not be able to handle bad situations with calmness and rationality. Hate all of it! I also hated her for not being able to separate herself fully from her abuser.

No matter how many times police and social workers got involved, no matter how many times I dialed 911, no matter how bad the abuse was, she refused to kick that bastard out of our life completely. I hated this weakness of hers that kept our home life unstable and unhappy.

My worthless father had a talent for appearing pitiful when he needed to. Even though the abuse was bad, he always had a grip over my mother's mind. She couldn't free herself from this absurd notion that she needed him. I stopped caring for her after these repeated cycles. I figured if she truly wished to be free from the abuse then she would not keep opening the front door to him.

In other words: Stop crying because you're doing this to yourself!

How many times did she ask the landlord to change the lock? 6? 7? She kept giving him the key. And she was foolish enough to trust him and think that when she got the key back, she was back in control and he couldn't enter. Dumb woman! He copied the key. Why wouldn't he? After all, he needed a place to stay and you were paying for the apartment with your student loan. He didn't want to pay for a place of his own. He was always convinced our family life was okay. That we would always accept him.

For a man with so much ego, he wouldn't hesitate to make himself look pathetic in front of our relatives in order to live with them. When he wasn't doing that he would come to our apartment and spend hours outside the window. All because my stupid mother gave him the fucking address after we moved away to get away from him.

Dropped everything and went to a women's shelter. Stayed there for a week and then found a new place. Had my mom just cut ties with him completely, he may have never found us. But no! She gave him the location of the daycare my brother and I were attending. Which was a quick walking distance from our apartment and of course that fucking sneak followed and found out where we lived! I hate that woman so much!

She would always say that needs a life partner when I asked her why she refuses to kick that fat bastard out permanently. I thought in a moment of viciousness that she deserved the beatings. Why not? You want a partner so bad you keep clinging to an abusive fuck?! Then take the beatings!! Let him beat you to death!! Then I can finally stop watching all this abuse!

I would have to stay inside whenever my dad showed up and did his lingering thing. It was the only way to keep him out. If I went anywhere for even 10 minutes, I would return to find him inside. Simply because my mother is weak willed and he talked her into letting him in. I would ask her why he was inside and she would say that I left so she let him in. Why? Doesn't she know better by now? She's the one taking the beatings!!

I also fell for his docile act from time to time and he turned the tables on me. Refusing to leave after I granted him entry. Even though he left the day before. I wish I had killed him that night. This is one of my biggest regrets. I wish I had stabbed that fucker to death when I was younger. How much grief could have been avoided if he had just dropped dead? But at that point I was young and scared and I let him have his way.

I was washing dishes after getting into argument with him because he refused to leave and at one point I deliberately picked up a knife and glared at him. That must have worried him. Or at the very least given him pause. He immediately came over and pulled the knife out of my hands. I told him I wasn't done and he told me I was. He turned off the tap and I let him. I should have slashed his fucking face. He then grabbed my by the arm and pulled me away from the kitchen. How dare he! Who the hell is he to put his hands on me?

I do not even acknowledge you as my father, you fuck!!

I decide to leave the apartment and go to my aunts so I grabbed the keys. He pulled them out of my hand. The fucking nerve! He had to dominate me. I should have socked him in the face. I wish I had unleashed on him with no fear or thought of failure. I want him to know just how much his daughter hates him. It would have been even better if I had killed him. Then he could go to his death knowing that he fucked up so badly as a father that his own child killed him. That would have been the perfect karma! Shame I couldn't do it. I was scared so I simply ran away.

My brother was there playing computer games. It didn't even register. He was so young when a lot of this happened so he does not remember the abusive rat we had for a father. But I remember and I will never forget. I wish to turn back the hands of time and end him. Or better yet, find him and kill him even before he married my mother. Of course that would mean I would not be born but I don't care. I would prefer not existing to the existence I'm living now.

How different of a person would I have been if he had never been in my life? If I had a calm and compassionate man for a father, how different would my mother have been? It was an arranged marriage between religious families back in Nepal. Cultural and societal pressures makes divorce a taboo. It's in the norm for wives to simply suffer with what they've got.

My mother has a brother and 3 sisters. They did better than her. My uncle doesn't beat his wife. My one aunt didn't have a good relationship with her husband, but it wasn't bad the way it was for my mother. And the other two  found men that genuinely respected the women they married. That's the main thing. My father never respected my mother. He came from a household where it was normal to see his father hitting his mother. Do I pity him? No! You should have known better.

You wouldn't enjoy it if you got hit and insulted every fucking day so WHY THE FUCK IS IT OKAY FOR YOU TO DO IT TO SOMEONE ELSE!! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO TREAT ANYONE IN THAT MANNER!! FUCK YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL WHERE YOU BELONG!!

Had you set a better example I wouldn't have gone on to also be bad tempered and physically abusive. I hurt my brother so much when I was in junior high and he was in elementary. I simply took out my frustrations on an easy target. Just like what he did to my mother. In the height of his abuse towards her, I remember seeing her once crying and telling me that she fears getting hit by him simply because my dad misplaced something and couldn't find it.

I hate that so much of me comes from him.

I remember his abusive behavior towards my mother and grow angry. Then I remember my abusive behavior towards my brother and feel sick.

Father deserves hellfire and so do I.

My mother also got hurt by me. This was much later. After they were divorced and he was out of our lives completely. We used to clash so much and I recall shoving her twice because I couldn't stand her nagging. I even told myself in moments of anger that I could see now why my father abused her so much. She is so fucking annoying to deal with. Every time I hear her talk to me I'm tempted to hit her.

I'm deeply ashamed. I have become what I hate and now I want to die. I want to leave my own flesh and mind. I hate everything about myself. And the thing is when you hate yourself, you can't not fuck up when interacting with coworkers.