Wouldn’t dare to say this in person, but screw it. The happiest day of my life was the day my dad died
I am so happy he is gone and will never hurt me again, and for many years have had no outlet to express these feelings because nobody I grew up with (save maybe a couple people here or there who witnessed his temper firsthand) would ever believe me.
To them, he was a pillar of morality and a shining example of our community. When he died his funeral was packed out, with a bunch of people talking about how much he affected their lives and what a stand-up guy he was.
He was not. That monster beat me every day for years behind closed doors. He beat me until my legs and arms were raw, screaming in my face the whole time and hurling insults at me, telling me how horrible of a child I was, calling me a stupid brat and saying I wasn’t good for anything except prison. This started when I was a toddler and continued until he kicked the bucket when I was 14. Not once during that span of time did he ever let up. I was that sick psychopath’s punching bag so he could relieve his stress and resentment.
They don’t know about him force feeding me white vinegar, apple cider vinegar, and soap as punishment for the most inane, innocent childhood mistakes and when I vomited, forcing me to drink them again. They don’t know about how many times he screamed so loudly in my face my ears rang about how much of a cash drain I was, how I was the reason the family didn’t have any money and how I taxed their financial situation by being born and how all I am is a leech and a mooch off of him. They don’t know how many injuries I got, from him or in general, how many times I was sick or hurt and he refused to take me to the doctor or get me any medical care whatsoever, instead just laughing at me.
I guess I just wasn’t good enough for him. I wasn’t the “ideal” child like my sister. She failed a test, he shrugged and told her good job for trying. I got under a 90 and got the belt. Every time. When I would cry about the favoritism he would belt me more. I was gaslit for so many years regarding this and it was only when I was an adult that my extended family all confirmed that yes, she did receive disgusting preferential treatment and they all saw it as well.
The night before he died he was verbally attacking me like usual, telling me I was out of control and an ungrateful piece of crap and useless. He hadn’t belted me in probably a couple weeks because the last time he’d tried, I screamed back at him instead of just enduring it. He’d beat me because I hadn’t cleaned up after my sister like he demanded me to. I hadn’t washed her dishes and cleaned her area after she left the room looking like a hoarders episode. So he beat me and I didn’t say silent that time. I screamed and told him he was insane and that I would never clean up after my sister again and struggled and resisted instead of just taking it. I planned to yank the belt from him and hit him back the very next time he came for me, but it never happened because he died.
And I was so happy. So overjoyed that when my mom called with the news, I just cried out with relief while my sister went catatonic and was never the same. She was the only one he’d hugged and said “I love you” to the night before. No one else. Certainly not me.
everyone came out for the funeral. His coworkers, old buddies, randos I’d never seen before in my life who claimed to have loved him (?) I plastered on a sad face because if they knew how happy I was I’d have just gotten more mistreatment and judgment. But I was. I was so happy.
IIn the years after his death, my hair and nails started to grow in healthy, my skin cleared up, I lost weight, I began figuring out how to make friends and started living and thriving independently. I am, even today, absolutely mentally wrecked. But still so, so happy.
Once I was sitting down with a friend maybe a year after he passed and something came over me then, where I felt like I had to tell her what he was really like and what he did behind closed doors.
“But your dad was such an angel! No way he really did that.”
I never told anyone else ever again, until now.