Some nights as a late teenager I'd cry myself to sleep.
And in my early twenties too.
"Why does my Dad treat me so harshly?"
That question would swirl in my head like an American super-Twister wrecking everything beautiful in its path, carving out its dirty route and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
So much despair.
My Dad reconnected with me as a young man, and it was nice. It was somewhat different to those drunk fuelled nights of shouting and punching I can remember when I was 3-4.
He would take me in his car, play snooker with me, and pay for some (quite expensive) trips abroad with me. Life as an early teenager was quite fun, for the little time he allowed me with himself. I think he was trying to make amends.
It all went pair shaped when he lost his job, and, as the human punchbag that I am I took a lot of his abuse, again. And boy the manipulation.
I was living on my own by then, nearer to him than my Mum. So he had more influence over me. And as a result I'd often take myself away, and cry, and hate myself.
Despise myself.
I was fucking worthless.
When I began to soul search at the beginning of my healing I realised something perhaps even worse.
My Dad, he never really wanted a kid.
I was a bi-product of a relationship between two people.
Mum wanted me. I know she loves me to bits.
But Dad, well, he couldn't give a shit.
Mum told me that when I was born he went missing for two weeks, and then appeared on her doorstep one week after I was home.
Perhaps that was none of my business, but it hurt. And I know men deal with a child entering into the dynamic in different ways, but Dad, you could tell it in his expression that I was more of a burden than a joy.
And I HATED myself for that.
I wanted to grab a FUCKING knife and shove it into my right eye as far as it could go. Just so I could watch the life slowly ebb away from me.
But I didn't. Truth is there was still some small part of me that thought I deserved to live.
So I did.
And a beautiful thing happened. Probably the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me.
I learned to let go of the control. I learned acceptance.
I accepted that Dad would be himself no matter what I did.
The less I worried about him being someone, someone that he couldn't possibly be,
Like a loving father,
The more I concentrated on the things that mattered in life. And then everything started to fall into place.
At home, my friends and family, I built better bonds with them because I learned to accept them for who they are and not 'who I wanted them to be'
And the exact same at work.
I began to realise that actually, the world totally doesn't revolve around me and there is so much other stuff that I've missed out on because I've been too wrapped up in my hardship.
I accepted the world for what it is,
And then I grew positive. I realised that by having a positive attitude I can accept my circumstances but perhaps change the way people perceive me and my future chances with anything.
I had accepted life for what it is.
God damned beautiful.
You guys, you guys are the best! I hope this story helps one of you :)