I felt anger, then a bleak depression, after father died, a breakdown that continues a month after...

Thinking about it before it ever happened I even thought I might feel joy... not an iota, apparently... not sure why I've even dared to look at this forum, because right now anything related I've suddenly become so sensitive to, with mostly anger when it comes existent situations... but for my life... I just have an abyss of nothingness now... all the damage he inflicted on me and even his memories of whatever the *** he got out of the violence, presumably some perverse joy, are dust, along with his piece of *** ass... and, yet, I seem to envy that, being dust, because being broken for decades more, I fear... I've already spent one decade all alone, no semblance of a life, and suddenly I realize why, as if I always thought it was this or that... but it was always this, always violent pieces of ***!

I mentioned anger... it was most immediate because my 'dear' sister (who admits he mostly concentrated on me, 'why' I keep torturing myself over (well, she claims, with serious distaste, that it might be due to my differing (from hers) gender (if I wasn't so drunk I would have, and still need to, absolutely respond with aggression (in hindsight, she seemed to imply a rationality, even comparing her daughter to another male child she knew) to such a horrible suggestion)... although 'why' is still uncertain, and I could never give him the pleasure to possibly (post edited by moderator due to explicit language) justify it, regardless of curiosity)... drinking myself to near death (I lost sensation in my limbs, had no idea that happened) the week after due to these wild flashbacks where I could feel him attacking me again, despite being dead, and over 15 years after he last did in reality)... she began her obituary by saying "sadly" (and that wasn't all... whoever sent the obits to some sites... couldn't care less about asking the people whose names are included... so, lo and behold, I'm suddenly forced to mourn the *** who destroyed my life?! My luck, I swear... a whole week it took before they removed my name, and I had to contact them personally, in between rum bottles, loneliness, and alcohol poisoning). ***, man, so sad a 45(post edited by moderator due to explicit language) year old can't beat a 5 year old anymore!!! This idiot even left her daughter (who she had unplanned at 15, while some people are claiming *I* might be the unprepared one nearly twenty years later)... just to save on childcare costs, isn't that sweet, with this ***, despite knowing what he did. Oh, "you should get therapy", she told me recently, "I felt like I needed therapy just because I saw it"... all I was entertainment for her, but apparently she needed therapy, despite leaving her child with him... all I was a punching bag for him, an object, as apparently buying an actual one is too expensive, or something... I have so much anger, I think a sure-fire way I'd become a murderer is if I saw an adult attacking a child in public... although they're all *** cowards, of course, he goddamn never did that publicly...

This misery that is consuming me, though... I don't know what I can do with it... often feel like I need to drink, even if I'm afraid of the sensation loss and tachycardia I got the week after which ended up in phoning an ambulance as I really thought I could die... and dying the week after? Wow... can't imagine what people will start speculating... absolute worst, although at that point I suppose it didn't matter, and as long as my suffering ended, who cares... I'm surprised I haven't drunk in about five days, honestly, but that still doesn't mean I don't just randomly sob, all day long sometimes... in between all this, I somehow ended up on this one photo of some person who shared a certain characteristic with me, at one point, with the apparent exception of... well, it was him in some sort of small plane and who appeared to be his father, but one comment affected (why do some say "hit" here? Goddamn language is so violent)... me, which basically said that he'd forever be his co-pilot (by implication he died too)... in one little sentence it, as if, condensed years... while I had... 18 years of violence... honestly, can barely wrap my mind around the number... now, my mother (which for some unknown reason I still talk to... never talked to him again since I left, of course, the *absolute* least I could do! Not that, I suppose, he gave a ***. And how I loathe societies for having (post edited by moderator due to explicit language)  'justice'! No consequences... one thing I don't suppose I'll ever stop spiking my blood pressure over... oh, and did I mention *** 'laws' trapped me until I was some stupid number of years?! Had a breakdown at 15 and couldn't do anything to escape the violent hell until 3 years later...) - in her effort to minimize all this she says he didn't 'scratch his itch' every day... amazing, isn't it? I mean, even if he did once a week, and it might have been more than that (but utterly random), it would be... 938 times. If I even pummelled my computer once I don't expect it to function... honestly, I'm surprised I can write this right now (and, oh, was always so obsessed with the minutiae of language, as if I had so much mental space I could afford and I wasn't (post edited by moderator due to explicit language)  afraid of being killed every single time...)

If I had access to a gun I'm not sure I wouldn't have used it, at this point... I almost want one, though, as I feel a bit trapped again, having at least no such option (so much can go wrong with a hanging)... and that's what's 'funny', this "coward" of a mother (which she admitted she was... still finds it difficult to even link her marriage with how *** up I am, even if I don't usually blame her directly, although she was an absolute enabler by never leaving him... and she never left because she had children, apparently?! What perverse thinking! If my partner was doing that I'd do anything... including(post edited by moderator due to explicit language) Oh, and she had "nowhere to go", of course, and I had nowhere to go when I left at 18, nearly froze to death, and even somewhat prostituted myself for a bit, but hey, it's a 'good' thing I had better survival instincts, despite no dependents, than someone who did. But, no, apparently, we were the reason we needed to remain in the cradle of random violence...) - she keeps saying I should forget all this, as if a neuralyzer existed... even said 'delete' recently, like I'm some bizarre computer, and it just felt so naturally parallel to suicide. Honestly, at this point, it feels like I'm procrastinating... and I've always done that... one moment when I was 15, though, when I did, at that point, convince myself that death was the only option... I might have deluded myself in thinking it wasn't... just because some video game (rpgs, only positive thing in my teen years) flashed in my mind, suddenly reminding me that I wanted more from that heavenly nectar... what idiocy, so many years later I still can't naturally enjoy them, piece of *** successfully destroyed such capabilities, and all I seem to do is rot until some kind of death, at this juncture from an excess of alcohol, likely... at that point, though, when I convinced myself to push through that underworld, like some unknown Orpheus of misery who, in contrast to the original, is compelled (with a 'thumbs up' from society the rest of the pantheon) to descend, through a Cerberus of fists, because apparently Hades is bored, or something... and for what? A void of a life... only one relationship I managed, for a mere seven months (my sister, in contrast, together for over a decade... might be just luck, or how they have a child, but that still doesn't prevent the brokenness that permeates me to seep in and rot all...)

I just hate this world... so much... I hate this vile *** so much... fact that I do not seem inherently violent, or anything; I absolutely never hurt any sentient creature (and when I do, accidently, I feel so awful, and just want to bash my head), and yet all of this fuels me with such rage, just as hate begets hate... all a reaction on my part, to be clear... I still cannot fathom how anyone can do anything to a defenceless child. *** all parental pieces of *** cowards!!! I swear, of all the superheroes they came up with, they couldn't invent one who *** who pick on someone half their size?! If I never resort to the worst, I swear I'll probably end up doing the same exact thing these gutless(post edited by moderator due to explicit language) did, to them... and in some awful, goddamn legal cases, acquitted of... just to highlight a huge, sickening spotlight that screams 'hypocrisy'!! Because, oh, suddenly violence *** matters!! Suddenly, when it's against violent people, adults who can defend themselves, absolutely enabled by countless others?! Honestly, if a meteor comes again I so hope every single, wretched human goes into a grave licking it...