I still remember my birthday with horror and resentment.

I am 25 years old, I recently became a mother. Not that it mattersrelation to my story, which I would like to share, but perhaps this became the catalyst for what I write here, since the memories relate to childhood andrelationships with parents.

In general, I had a normal childhood, I had enough of everything, my parents loved me. OnlyFather could never control himself during the holidays, got drunk and behaved like an animal. I remember my screams in the bedroom, when my parents were having a fight in another room, when the neighbors came and to their remark: “Yes, you have herethe child is screaming,” he answered: “yes, so what.”

I was young, very young, but I remember everything clearly. I also remember how after a holiday on a boat (something like a corporate party from my mother’s work), he got terribly drunk and screamed, and when at the end we just quickly left him, he threw stones at us. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.

On the day in question, he was not test-antibiotic.com drunk. It was winter, January, I was in elementary school, and I hadbirthday . I was in a great mood. The lessons went quickly, the weather was wonderful, friends andfriends , gifts and hugs are definitely waiting for me at home, because I’m ten years old! On the way home we played a little snowball fight, maybe half an hour passed, maybe an hour. “Will you go outside again?” my friends asked. “Of course, they will definitely let me go, today is my birthday!” I went home absolutely happy and confident that the day would be great.

My father met me. Probably on that daymom was at work. There was an hour or two, my father had lunch, then he came home. But the meeting went a little differently than I expected. Screams and accusations rained down on me, why did I take so long? Where do I go? Why is he waiting for me for so long, he has no time! All this, of course, with selective insults and saliva from the mouth. I don’t remember exactly, maybe there was some problem with the keys, he couldn’t leave, I didn’t have a phone then.

Of course, I test-antibiotic.com start crying and mumbling something about playing in the snow instead of running home. By the way, all this happens on the very threshold, I’m wearing shoes and clothes from the street. And at some point I get hit in the face. From his strength I fall to the floor, cry, I am very scared. But instead of stopping and helping me, he screams at me to get up and hits me again. I'm falling again. The blow, I don’t remember how many times he ended up hitting me, but after each one I was on the floor. In horror and complete misunderstanding of how I deserved this, even on such a day, of course, then it ended. And he apologized. I remember sitting me on his lap and asking me what toy I wanted. I said that I want a cat. Just to say something, because all this was long, and he did not leave me behind. But the truth is that neither that day nor any other after that I wanted any more gifts from him.

We test-antibiotic.com didn’t tell mom anything. Apparently, I was too scared, maybe he somehow put pressure that we would leave this between us. I told her about this much later, while I was studying at the university.

Need I say that my relationship with my father is not very good? He reaches out to me, is offended that I don’t write or call. But for half my life I have felt mostly hatred and anger towards him. I can notforgive . I tried, but I can’t quite finish it. Sometimes mom tries to break through: “You remember everything only the bad, as if there was no good!” It probably was. But against the background of all this, it somehow faded.

So why am I doing all this? Don't know. I have long wanted to speak out to a wide audience, maybe hear support that I am not to blame (or am I to blame?) for all this. I look at my three-month-old son and don’t understand how you can do this to your child, no matter how angry you are. And although I am already an adult and have not depended on him for a long time, I live in another city, I am still haunted by test-antibiotic.comfear of this person. And now his absolute reluctance will allow him to continue communicating with his “most beloved grandson in the world.”

This is my life story. Thanks for reading. I hope that someday all this will let me go.