Well, sort of. I got into a massive fight with my father. He screamed at me for no reason, literally no reason. Called me a selfish bitch despite that I was cleaning up something he himself couldn't be bothered cleaning. Lots of shit went down.
He wouldn't stop screaming. Screaming, screaming, screaming. All these names and insults and they just...
I screamed back, of course.
So he told me to get out. He told me to leave. I grabbed my bag, and I walked out with him screaming at my back. I told him I hated him and that he was not my father.
I can't stand him. I really can't. He wonders why I have low self esteem, without it occurring to him that maybe it's because sixteen years worth of insults and hate have been chipping away at me and making me feel so worthless and disgusting.
I shouldn't post this. But I will. Because I rarely talk about it to people other than close friends, which are becoming far and few, so I think it might be good for me. Maybe.
I don't know. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what to do.
I'm so lost.