The Girl with Tar

Quitting For Real
2014-11-17 04:33:07 (UTC)

Day Twenty Six

Today was awful.

I don't want to say much about it. My parents started fighting again. I left early into it, so I'm not sure what happened. I know my stepmom hit him first, but really that was only a matter of time. When a 6'3" guy--who has already thrown things at you and hit you--is screaming in your face, the instinct is to most likely shove him away and run for it, or somehow get him away. If hitting him was how she got him away from her, then that's what her brain told her she had to do. It was a survival instinct.

He also hit the dog.

The poor fucking dog.

So that's scary, because next on the list of things he cares about is me. And his wife and dogs are gone, so there's not much else to yell at or hit. I'm afraid he might get so stressed out that he can't really stop himself from yelling at me.

He told me to take his debit card and go back "home" so I could "get on with my life" and he could "let his be over". I kept shaking my head and crying. I can't just let him fucking kill himself. I did suggest therapy, but he won't take that. He said he doesn't want it.

I don't want to talk much about it, like I already said.

My cravings aren't too bad. I didn't feel the need to deal with everything by smoking, or any other forms of self harm.

I am incredibly stressed out though. My father cannot afford the rent by himself, and I'm only working a few hours a week. I need a job now. Like, right this second now.

Someone tell me what the fuck I'm even doing with my life.

Fingers crossed.




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