Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Krystal and I'm 18, living in AZ with my parents for the summer. My father... is an asshole to end all asshole. He has never touched me in any that would hurt - nay, he doesn't touch me at all, not to hug. I have never heard an "I love you" come from his lips or a "good job." Instead I hear complaints - for half of my life he would be after me about my weight. He'd make me wake up at obscene hours of the morning to go "running" or as I like to call it, "hell's walk." All the time he'd be running along side me, me and my twin, telling us to go faster and how we weren't even up to half his speed. Over and over - he always made it clear.
When I was 16/17ish I started to cut myself. I never really admitted this or rationalized it out. I never cut myself deep - on my shoulder just enough to make it bleed. I have no scars, no visible tracings of this. I've never been good with pain. I didn't notice a pattern until later, when I recgonized everytime I did it was after he had finished yelling at me, about not being thin enough, or smart enough, or how I would never amount to anything. He'd leave me in tears and I'd rather cry about a phsyical pain than an emotional pain because then something would be wrong with me. On my graduation day, he gave me a one-armed hug. And that was that. Call me weak for wanting more - but I did.
I finally saw a therapist this year who prescribed me antidepressants. I'm still on them. No one has ever made me hate myself more than he did. There are days when I wish my mother had never married him, never allowed him into my life. I hate feeling worthless, like nothing I do will ever be good enough for him.