what a lame obvious thing to post. my father is like 7x years old and has had a lifetime of drugs and treating his body poorly coming home to roost. he is the reason i have anywhere to live. he is (probably) a deeply repressed homosexual who struggles to engage with my transsexuality/androphilia in a positive way, though i do think he is probably trying his best. he hit me, he hit my siblings, he hit my mother. even now, i am flinching from writing this, worrying that somehow he will read this and hurt me.
he is also dependent on my help. he pisses himself and falls frequently. i can't help but help him, and i don't know how that makes me feel. i wanted so badly to please him when i was younger, so badly that i hurt myself in many different ways, beyond just enduring the abuse he gave me. and yet when he pitifully cries out for my name, i come running. i hate it, i hate this thing in me that wants to help him, to please him, to make his sadness okay. i feel okay about taking advantage of his generosity, because of this, but i still feel like this is probably messing me up.
one day i hope i can tell him how frustrating, how mad, how sad he made and makes me, and then maybe i can stop talking to him and move on with my life, but i can't until i am living somewhere else and have a better financial situation. i feel stymied in pursuing that because of how dependent he is on me, though. i really need to focus on getting something set up for my resume and moving forward with figuring out a place to live with my boyfriend. i know when i leave, however, he will be screwed. even now writing that after all of the everything, that makes me sad.
there's no great conclusion here. i hate him, and i can't help but do loving things for him, and that sucks. i hope i don't have to deal with that soon.