Today is SUNDAY. That is all. 

Today is Sunday. No it’s not Father’s Day to me, and I don’t know why people keep asking me what am I doing today because what WOULD I be doing today? 

I don’t have a father. I have a man who lives in the same house as me that is supposedly a biological male parent. I no longer consider him a father and it’s been decade since last I have thought that he was.

He is not a part of this family. He eats and sleeps here. The rest of his time he spends drinking and doing crack. I don’t see why I must pretend like every other day of life does not happen and all my anxiety and stress which is attributed to him doesn’t exist just because people SAY today is “Father’s Day”. 

I am so fed up of life in this house because of him. You never know what kind of day it’s going to be, if he going or coming, what condition he will be in or how much money he will be owing to drug dealers and bars in the area AGAIN. 

I wish he would leave and never return. If I never see him again in life it would be too soon. I just think it is a waste of time and energy to continually try to be “supportive” to someone who does not want help, refuses to go to rehab or call members from any meeting and makes no attempt on their own to change. 

He has a comfortable life that cannot really be changed. There are no laws in this country to get him out of the home or send him to a rehab as a mandatory occupant and he has no plans of leaving on his own and why would he. Here is a house with food, water, a bed and all the amenities that he doesn’t pay for. He can’t afford BOTH drugs and paying for a place so why would he leave. 

I have so many friends who have lost their dads to cancer and all sorts of things, and they are sorrowful and wishing to have their fathers back because they were apparently so great. Why did their dads die and they were so loved and missed by many? It makes no sense. The ones who doing absolutely nothing with their lives and just causing total chaos in their families’ lives till they are so old that you then have to end up spending money on them to make THEIR life comfortable after they have destroyed yours. 

There is nothing more to be done with him again. After a decade of this same situation over and over and over again it is never going to change. 

He is not getting a cent from me I know that. I rather die and donate it all to the dog pound once my mother is not alive to get it. 

I want him GONE. For good. 


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