Shattered bonds and smoldering hate.

What if two people under one roof can’t stand each other? It’s as plain as day; they hate each other’s guts. They don’t exchange words or even glances. I walk with my eyes glued to the floor, avoiding even a glimpse of my father. That’s how much I hate him.

It’s been a long and lonely journey, despite the fact that someone is supposed to be by my side. But what if? No, I’ll stick to my choice. I can handle this on my own. I believe it’s the right thing to do.

Disappointment hangs heavy in the air. I’ve disappointed you as a daughter because I couldn’t meet your impossible standards of perfection. I tried, really, for eight long years. I’m sorry if I wasn’t the daughter you dreamed of; all I ever wanted was to make you proud.

But how can I find myself again when I’ve already withered inside? Maybe it’s because I’ve never heard an “I’m proud of you.” All I hear are my shortcomings, that I’m “not enough.”

Family should be a sanctuary, but for me, it’s a wellspring of anguish. My own family is a toxic mess, and don’t even ask me why I steer clear of them.

Every family gathering is a reminder that I don’t belong here. I sit alone, observing how disconnected I am from these people.

Losing your bond with your parent reveals that if your own flesh and blood don’t care, nobody does. They brought me into this world, but they’ve let me down in ways that cut deep.

• Why is my family so fucked up?

I hate the way you talk to me.

I hate that my feelings mean nothing to you.

Your treatment of me is unbearable.

Both of you disgust me to the core.

I can’t endure your cruelty or the tears you force from me.

I just wish you could see that I’m a person too.

“She’s just like her father.” No, please, I’m not him.