My first memory of my father is being told that he wakes up angry so if i got hit it was my fault. I was 2. He used to smash the presents he would give me, ostensibly taking them back when I didn't turn out to be who be wanted. I got through high school and college without a successful suicide attempt. After six years as an independent adult I realized I had learned all the wrong ways to live. I had learned to live in fear.

I told him using fear to control children, forcing them to be grow into they hated, was really wrong and damaging. He said I was being dramatic. I recited a list of abuses he had subjected me to over years. He said he didn't remember. That was when I ended contact. I told him I never wanted to talk to him again and he persisted. The last thing I said to him was "all you are doing is hurting me. Fuck you."

He still sends me cards on holidays. Every time I think how wonderful it would be to kill him and then myself but remember afterwards how much my life is worth living now. As soon as I can, I'm going to sell this house, change my name, my number, and disappear. I no longer want to die. And the rest of my family has escaped his poisonous influence as well.

I have no further responsibility there but to forget and grow healthier. He persists in delaying that.