daddy you killed me

They all say it was because of you, I am how I am. Why didn’t I matter, eleven years later and its still haunting my every step. I don’t have happy memories because this memory takes up so much space. This event defines who I am today. Its killing me because I cant let it go.. I can’t move past it. Sometimes I’m 13years old wondering what the hell happened to my world. How dare you say my sister was ruining you’re reputation even I knew you should have been putting your kids first instead of being so selfish. There was a bunch of actuations thrown around, and honestly I don’t remember the details. I don’t have to remember the fight between you and my sister, which is done with to know how much it’s still hurting me. Nobody ever thought my feelings, all about hers. I was second and I never mattered quite as much. You waited for me to make the first move…instead of just hugging me and telling me it was all gonna be okay. I didn’t understand why you put it all on me to fix, till this day your still doing the same thing. Why didn’t anybody notice me… why was I such a burden. Don’t you see you ask me to choose and I can’t forgive you for that. I needed them more then you, I thought. Everyone forgot I was part of the whole mess, just because I wasn’t in the spotlight. Why were the warning signs ignored, why didn’t you look harder.  I got soo depressed, and I still haven’t recovered. I became nobody to you.  Didn’t you notice I was never the same again? I locked myself away in my bedroom, and hated when the social workers came to check on me, I didn’t want them I wanted the people who were suppose to love me. I stopped going to school…and although it was reasoned out, I know the real reason. I was in a serve depression which made it too impossible for me to pick myself up and go. I wasn’t old enough to quit… home-schooled….  Just more reasons not to bother getting out of bed…became angry that nobody saw my pain. You might have still picked me up on weekends and bothered to schedule me in when it was convenient for you, but you abandon me. Following thru on some duty that I had become… I think back I what I went thru and it still hurts me. I don’t love myself because of it. I wasn’t good enough for you to care about, I wasn’t important enough. You choose your career over me.  So now I believe I’m not good enough, no matter what I do or how hard I try I’m always failing. I wanted to kill myself cause the past was killing me to remember. You made me think I wasn’t good enough to be loved. I am damaged by what you unknowingly did. I don’t know how to solve it or fix my pain. For years I’ve cut and burned myself trying to make the pain go away. I cant hear your name without getting mad for how much you hurt me.. or crying because I was never what you wanted.  Whenever I feel hurt and sad you’re the underlying issue. I don’t feel worthy of love, I don’t feel I deserve it.  You never showed me I did which has a huge effect on how I treat the men that love me now. Relying on them to make me happy, because I’m miserable with who I am. I want to deserve love, and I don’t know how to make that happen. I have this pain and its weighing me down so much I want to let it go. And they agree only way to do that is to talk to you, tell you how I feel.. listen and be heard solve it. It’s hard, so very hard for me to do that. To be open with you to tell the truth, to express myself when it all never mattered then I think it won’t matter now either. But I don’t want to carry this around with me until it succeeds in killing me.  So if I call and gather all my courage to tell you these things…..please don’t say it was my fault, or it wasn’t your intention. You were the adult you were suppose to care.  Now I’m the adult and I need to move past this event and I don’t know if I’ll be able to have any sort of relationship with you. I might feel better getting this off my chest but I don’t want pressure to be your daughter.  I’m all cried out.. I need help…in order to heal.  Cause this wound has been around half of my life.  You killed my childhood