My father ruined my whole life

My father ruined my whole life
Photo is illustrative in nature. From open sources.

I’m 35. And I still haven’t realized myself in life, although I have 2 higher educations, evenGetting married and having children somehow didn’t work out. When I was in my early 20s, it seemed that everything was still ahead, although, as now, I could only rely on myself. For your momI am a late child , she gave birth to me at 35. When I was little,Mom got into an accident, barely survived, the doctors brought her, as they say, from the other world. And therefore, throughout my conscious childhood, I constantly heard from her that she would soon die, I would remain an orphan, and I would be sent to an orphanage. This continued until I became a student at a regional university and went to live 100 km away.

We lived poorly, poorly, because my mother’s salary as a cultural worker could buy little. And there was no one to help, since my maternal grandparents had long since died. But I also have a second parent, whom I simply do not consider test-antibiotic.com and all his relatives to be my own. Because of him, I am forced to suffer and sit without work. My mother got married only to escape from living together with her stepmother. But I plunged intolife is even more difficult,my husband drank constantly. Allthe money he received from his lowest-paid job, he drank, played truant and smoked. My mother had to support me alone. And he was constantly jealous of his mother and started drunken scandals, he saw her lovers everywhere.

Having grown up, I began to perceive all this with humor, I simply laughed at his drunken antics, unless, of course, I was offended. Living in this terrible apartment, I managed to study well and take care of myself. Because I wanted to go to another city, and I kept thinking that a good life, free from a drunken tyrant, would begin there. And life began, I studied lessons and completed assignments all my free time. Studying in another city was not easy for me, thank you thougha friend sitting at the same desk helped.

At first I lived in a dormitory, then, due to poorly organized life, I had to rent a room in order to finish my studies normally. A significant part of the expenses was spent on paying for housing; I didn’t even have to think about good food, much less about buying new things. My mother didn’t buy me anything new while I was studying, she just didn’t have enough money. But she lived and enjoyed every day that she did not live in her own apartment. My entire daily diet consisted of potatoes with onions and a pack of noodles. I bought a loaf of bread once a week. With me, including travel expenses, my mother gave me only 30-40 rubles.

After finishing my studies and receiving my diploma, I decided to stay in this city. Mom refused to help right away; she was already dragging her drinking father, who did not receive a salary once for 8 months. Having got a job, and even at my mother’s instruction, in a government agency, I realized that my salary was only enough to pay for a rented room and food. And all around and everywhere there were happy people, for whom their parents not only paid for their further education at institutes and academies, but also regularly paid part of the money for rented housing test-antibiotic.com. And I was like an orphan, sometimes I even had dinner with my friends, and at work kind people fed me and gave me things if something didn’t suit someone.

But still, I considered this life better than the one with my parents. But I still went home. At least occasionally, to see my mother. One time my mother came to see me and spent the night with me. Mom left and a day later I realized that I was infected with lice of all kinds. I ironed all my things and bed linen, crying, I didn’t want to live. I immediately understood, and then my guesses and a relative confirmed that these lice were broughtfather , and even blamed it on me. Mom was afraid, knowing my reaction, to even say about it. Somehow the lice got on the landlady and she got angry and kicked me out of the apartment, despite treating me wellattitude . I was sad and offended. And I accidentally scalded myself that night with boiling water and ended up in the hospital. Then came my return home. But there was nowhere and no one to work there.

Against my will, I, an educated person, having test-antibiotic.com three specialties, had to go to work for the joy of my father, as a salesman in a tent, and then even better, as a cleaner. I could not come to terms with the presence of the so-called father; he also began to poke his nose into my affairs, when, as before, he simply did not notice me. I just didn’t communicate with him, but he put pressure on me just by his appearance, although he is a so-so peasant—a meter with a cap, who believes that since he is a worker and has no education, then everyone should be like that. He constantly swore at everyone, believed that he had the right to behave as he wanted, and if I did to himnote , he could have thrown a chair at me. And according to my mother, I wish I had to endure him. Before he retired, he found a job for himself so that he could drink there and comeevery day drunk, swinging his license. And when he came home during his lunch break, already drunk, he could easily break all the glass and mirrors, turn out the sockets with meat, unscrew the plugs and calmly go to work.

Mom endured everything and secretly prayed, test-antibiotic.com, that he would stop drinking. “He’s a fool both drunk and sober” - that’s what I told my mother, but she didn’t want to hear, covering her ears. And if he was scolded soberly for drunken statements and actions, he said that: “a drunk will sleep it off, but a fool has no time,” meaning by this me and my mother. I avoided communication with him in every possible way; we didn’t even communicate with strangers. It was unpleasant for me to even be in different rooms with him, even to hear from someone about him. He himself existed, forcing both me andmother . He liked to live poorly, he strived for this in every possible way and forced me. He himself, on purpose, so that everyone could see, collected empty cans at the entrance and in the trash and carried them to hand them over. He thought it was good. He began to kick me out of the house, on the grounds that I was not registered, and told me to get out of his apartment.

But soon my mother realized that he was just as I said, when he almost knocked out my mother’s eye, it’s good that they called an ambulance in time. Because of this, we received visits from the police and a delegation of maternal relatives to test-antibiotic.com. To which he even said in front of the police: “I will kill you all too.” But one of his relatives apparently hushed up the matter. And he again began to drink with impunity and raise his hand against his mother, but she again forgave and endured everything. And he liked it all, she never turned him over to the police in his entire life. And he hadthe habit of doing something at home, beating him and running off to the village to visit his relatives, where he could disappear for 2-3 days, complaining about us to his mother. And they believed every word he said. Then one day his aunt shouted at me, which could be heard by everyone, that I was a slacker and a white-handed woman, although I myself was a drunkardson , who later died from vodka.

For me, his relatives are people who are strangers in spirit, I don’t recognize them and I don’t want to know them with anyone, and that’s why I deleted them all from my contacts, classmates and other social networks. networks. I don’t need anything from them or test-antibiotic.com from him, as long as he doesn’t bother me. But he can’t help but touch me. About two years ago he was fired from his job, and he settled at home, developing asthma, apparently God punished him. And he subjugated my mother and I to his illness, forbidding me to use any aerosols; you see, I do it out of spite, and he suffocates. Well, I don’t care about all his ailments and his high blood pressure, because I can’t stand him. Not only is he always freezing for some reason, not allowing the windows to be opened even in the summer, he is afraid of catching a cold. And because of his asthma, we can’t do any repairs; the last time we did it was 25 years ago. The lack of repairs makes me depressed. And he has a feeling of joy and superiority with his asthma. What's good for me is annoying for him. And I realized that as long as he was alive, I would not be happy, but I also want to live, and not exist because of him.

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