I don't hate my dad. Really. In fact, I've almost come to the point where I want him dead. Isn't that so much better? We obviously have a good relationship. Remind me, people, to hide all the baseball bats we have in the house. stare One more week, and I'll never have to see him again - he can finally ignore me without me actually being there to receive it. I'd rather never see him again than have to live with rejection every day. Makes sense, I suppose. Sometimes I wonder if I'm mentally screwed, and I just don't know the extent of it. Too bad I don't believe in shrinks, or moreover, don't understand them. I'm not relying on someone to tell me my problems. As if I can't remember them... They're rather hard to let go of.
Incandescent Lunacy Community Member 
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Community Member