ok here it goes another attempt of writing down my feelings ,and that may be quit difficult and painful.there are days when all is good with my life and I am happy and content,But,damn most days ,I just feel this ,this sick,sick,feeling ,in my body,perhaps,like a sadness ,almost childlike in a sense.Which,that ,in itself makes total sense,because ,my childhood for the most part,I dont remember, And,that is
really sad. I think,I believe,that ,there is something ,there that I am blocking,memeories ,so horrible and sad and painful,that i just,cant ,and dont want to deal with,
I do have one ,strong ,strong,lack of emotons for any love for my father,for ,which,I shall call him the sper donar ,or just donare.I have never felt any love for him ever,as a child or as an adult,and I always knew,that was very odd.
How could a daughter not remember fond moments with their father. It is so sad,and so
painful ,and I just want to to yell and scream and ask my dead donare why in the fuck did you never told me you loved me?
And,after katrina ,the trauma ,somehow jarred some memories of dad,his drunken,smelling ,wrenching,alcoholic person,who spent a majority of his life drinking.And ,on the weekend was the worst.I caught the brunt of it,his tiny,little ,
innocent daughter.
On weekends ,he would get so damn drunk that ,he would fall asleep in my bed.And,I
couldnt wake him ,he stunk,he disgusted me ,and i just wanted him out of my bed.
And ,where was mother,oh she yelled a couple of times,and after dad didnt listen,and go to his bedroom,yes,he remained in my bed. And ,there I was stuck with dad on my twin bed, Most of the time he went in my bed ,after i had gone to bed, Now,he is the memories that i have held back in me,memories of dad in my bed ,against me,one time ,trying to kiss me.OMG I cant believe i am writing this down, but ,now I realize ,that it does help ,to tell your story.
Dad was a drunk ,never,a father,never,a loving person,oh no,far far from a loving figure. You see,he always had these words ,his affectionate words consisted of,I wish you were never born.Boy,is that,a self esteem booster.Or.you will never amount to anything,no one will marry you,you are stupid ,you getting a liitle fat eh?,and on ,and on.Wow,such loving warm caring things to say to your only daughter. THE BIG FUCKER.
And,yet,can you believe,that,there are moments ,when,I ,feel guilty talking about my donare like this ,telling how he realy was,and not the make believe stories I told about the son of a bitch. Oh,yes,in my little fantasy world, one in which myparents were disiplining me ,with yes belts and sticks and whatever they had handy.
But,yopu see,I had to do this for my sanity,it was my way of escaping the shame.
What,tell all your freinds had my dad drinks until he pases out and goes in my bed. YES,THAT WOULD GO OVER WELL.But,besides all that, i was raised in the catholic religion and growing up in the 60"s ,the catholic religion brainwahed ya with the ten commandments ,and the main one ,honor thy parents,was,drilled into our heads,
and ,so.I had to homor them,even when,donare was in my bed drunk ,groping me.Oh,wow ,isnt that grand? The catholic church didnt care about the children,
and ,besides that,they had their own little dirty secrets they were hiding.
What were they? Lets try thepriests molesting the alter boys or little boys in general,gay priests and nuns and nuns havibg sex with the priests.
And.children didnt go to tell the priests about their own molestation from the hands of their own parents.They willonly be told thatshould not lie about their partents.
i,i,i must go again,getting ,,,,,sad reaaly sad

nawls