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2001-07-29 - 10:49 p.m.

Fuck this. I've got to put it down somewhere. Here's as good a place as any. I don't want to talk to someone, but I have to get this out. I can't keep doing what I did last night, or someone will notice. This won't be entertaining, so if you want funny and pathetic, go somewhere else. I'm pissed off, and I'm tired of not saying why.

I hate you, Dad.

I hate you because you have a short, nasty temper.

I hate you because you are crude and boorish.

I hate you because you HIT MOM.

I hate you because you have such an abusive sense of humor.

I hate you because you quit your job and uprooted our family just to move to Las Vegas and gamble away every cent we had.

I hate you because I have never met my sister because you beat her so bad she ran away from home.

I hate you because Mom has to work so hard now just to keep us from losing our house.

I hate you because you fought so hard to put your cancer in remission, and give yourself a new lease on life, and you have gone right back to doing the same old things you always did.

I hate you for always being disappointed in me for not being an athlete.

I hate you for being a horrible father and husband, and a miserable excuse for a human being.

But most of all, I hate you because I'm exactly like you, and I hate myself because of it.

It's not your fault. Yes, you had an influence on what I grew up to be like, but I am my own man, and I'm entirely accountable for who I am and what I'm like. I'm not blaming you for that.

No, I hate you because you are there, every step of the way, as a guidepost for me to realize exactly what a wretched being I have become.

I hate myself for not being better than you. For looking at you, and saying "I will never become like him," and then becoming like you. You are weak, and I am just as weak, probably weaker. And knowing that makes me loathe myself so much that I smash things and scar myself.

I hate myself for feeling that your death will be more beneficial for your family than the last 10 years of your life have been. And I hate you for validating those feelings.

Why couldn't you teach me to be strong, Dad?

I know I'll probably never say these things to you personally. I'm too much like you to ever be strong enough to do that. I can't even talk about this with close friends or family. But I have to say them somewhere, because they need to be said. And there's one more thing I'll never be strong enough to say to you personally that I have to get out.

I love you, Dad.

There. That being said, i can go back to pretending none of this exists.

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