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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

I know that she’s at least trying her best. The other day I blurted out that I was nervous about her listening to me when I went for therapy. When I came out, she was reading a book in her car. Assured me later that no one (even her) could hear over the noise machines.
That's actually really nice.
I think the conflict between stuff like this and the other stuff must be the worst part. I actually (heartbreak aside) had zero difficulty breaking contact with my mom because she purely gave zero crap about me. Had she mixed signals I would have been conflicted as heck. :hug:
 
That's actually really nice.
I think the conflict between stuff like this and the other stuff must be the worst part. I actually (heartbreak aside) had zero difficulty breaking contact with my mom because she purely gave zero crap about me. Had she mixed signals I would have been conflicted as heck. :hug:
I think this ^^^ is the hardest part for a lot of people with abuse histories that I see here. That it's not all the time. Sometimes the abuser does care about you. So you try to hold on to those moments and try so very hard to balance the scales between when they are horrible to you and when they are nice. The sad part is how hard people try to justify their abusers actions and how badly they want to be able to help them change into the person they believe they can be -- never seeing its a lost cause. :hug:
 
Very true.

That's how I am with my dad. I know he's an awful person, and so it hurts when I get a nice voicemail or text from him, because he sounds so nice -- but this is a dude who legitimately killed at least one person, attempted to kill other people both in front of us and not, abused my siblings and I (told a court-forced therapist that I am his only "good child" but then told them I was "too psychotic" to be a good reference for the abuse I told police and doctors about at my own risk), among other atrocious things. When I get nice texts asking me how I'm doing, I can only think nowdays that he must have gotten another girlfriend somehow and is trying to show off how fatherly he is. He does that to all of them, and a lot of them fall for it, so I quick playing the game.

I quick playing after he called me, I answered, and I heard a five-year-old in the background. I asked, "Oh, who's that?" excitedly, forgetting I'm talking to a dangerous psychopath who is still above the law years later because corruption, and he responded, sounding bored, "That's the kid of my girlfriend." It was disturbing. I quit answering calls after that. Went through shit trying to safely inform the lady that my dad was 100% going to torture the shit out of that kid if she didn't get out now while she still could. He HATES children. But he will act nice to them until he's married to his victim.

So it infuriates me that I still care about him. I'm relieved lately because last I heard, from some person who wanted to chat with me in a grocery store -- that man told me that he knows my dad is getting involved with a married woman who is known around town for being complete trash and mean to people, so I feel slightly better about that but hope she's mean to him at the first sign of him being completely insane. The last married person he got with had a dead husband soon, and then she died "of an overdose" leaving her son to be an orphan. My dad must have hurt him pretty bad because he told the state of Texas that he'd rather go into foster care and try to convince his uncle to help him than spend another minute near my father. My father moved back to my state. To the same area as my mom, of course, because he can't stand that she survived his extremely clever murder attempts. He doesn't feel clever enough since a literal medical miracle saved her. I have been fighting the urge to hire a hitman to get him so I can stop worrying about him breaking into the house to attempt to finish the job. I know he's on hard drugs and his brain was in bad shape and probably is worse now.

I know we are still in danger, though, because my father has been telling people around town that he has remarried my mother. Which is complete bullshit, by the way. I tell that to everyone who asks.

I'm glad this city is growing. I'm a bit sick of being asked about my father. He's just a big scandal and he loves it because it gets him attention. That's literally all he wants in life. Which is why I don't answer his calls anymore. He owes me an apology for getting me kidnapped, for raping my little brother, for locking my sister up in a garage and asking my kidnapper to kill her, for telling my twin brother that autistic people aren't real men, for dumping him in cold water, for .... yeah, the list goes on. It's exhausting.

But then I remember that he suffers from depression, anxiety, and serious trauma that left him with the intelligence of a child. Not exaggerating. But, we also have the exact same interests and I miss watching the NPT Nature shows with him, and listening to Private Eye on NPR, miss teaching him about the right way to hold a gecko (when I was freshman highschool age I was mentally more mature than he was and he needed help figuring these things out), bathing Petie the rabbit with him, talking with him for hours about political stuff, etc. It's a bit ridiculous. It's like my brain instinctually needs him to be a real father figure.

It's the whole reason I'm afraid of marrying a woman and having kids. I'm going to make sure that kid sees one of my male friends as a father figure. If s/he wants to, though. I won't force it.

My mom, on the other hand, is nowhere near as conflicted of a parent in my mind. I was raised by cats while living in a cage for long enough that I get extremely confused, and for the most part my mother was incapable of parenting due to severe untreated mental illness, but it is what it is. She actually tried. She actually cried when I was forced against my will to tell her about stuff that was happening in my life while she was struggling to stay alive when my dad was poisoning her. She neglected the shit out of us as teenagers and my trauma didn't stop. But you know. She actually tried at least. She wanted us to get treatment. Usually. She was dysfunctional for sure. But unlike what my dad was telling the court and the entire city, her kids weren't f*cking running away from her.

Y'all have no idea the kinds of questions I get asked around town. Some people dislike my mom for stupid lies my dad goes around saying. Like Tommy. He once stopped me in public to ask if I needed money because he heard that my little brother (the one my dad disowned for "lying" about being sexually abused and "trying to ruin his reputation") and my mom were stealing credit cards INCLUDING HIS to buy shit. No, dude. My dad stole your credit card and then told lies about who did it. My mom literally hasn't even been to your house. You idiot.

On the bright side, some people have started asking what my service dog is for. Which means the city has grown enough since I went off to college five years ago that some people haven't heard the stories/rumors. My neighbors still know but it's fine.
 

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