#Dear Dad

[mashpoll]

Dear Dad (s1 e12): In a letter to his dad, Hawkeye describes the 4077th's follies during the Christmas season.

The Nurses (s5 e6): The nurses go behind Margaret's back so that a fellow nurse confined to her tent can spend the night with her soldier husband who is paying her a surprise visit.

#dear dad #the nurses #season 1 #season 5 #round 3

[kinsfaun]

Sharing to keep... You're welcome. Happy New Year ❤️

#alan alda #mash s1 #dear dad #m*a*s*h #mash 4077 #hawkeye pierce #hawk

[jonberry555]

MAS*H: Dear Dad | Season 1 Episode 12 | Retro Review

I love the television show MAS*H, so I thought it would be fun if I rewatched every single episode and recorded a review of said episode. Join me today along this five year long mission as I review the Season 1 Episode 12: Dear Dad.

#mash #mash 4077 #m*a*s*h #m*a*s*h 4077 #dear dad #review #retro review #hawkeye #hawkeye pierce #jonberry555 #Youtube

[relief-permission]

Something very emotional I need to express.

Warning: mention of self harm

My sweet little girl.

So alone in this big dark world.

So helpless to the things being done to you.

The things they did to you.

The things you do to you.

You never dared to cry or shout.

You always smiled because, even when it hurts that way you hoped they wouldn't stop loving you.

You never dared to talk back.

You always feared of being alone.

You always feared of being hurt.

But now after all your effords, you have to realise that because you didn't cry, because they didn't let you, that everything was a waste of energy.

And now your sitting in this dark room that looks just like your fathers house with scars on your arms, tears in your eyes, begging for god to help you while deep inside you know very well that no one will come to safe you.

You're to old.

You're to big.

You now have to take care of yourself.

And them.

#anger #feelings #inner child #dear dad #dear mom #sad thoughts #self h@te #self h@rm

[ellowynbeimler]

Nov 16

Dear Dad,

You know how most of the time Grace is really nice and, like, super cool and fun to be around?

Did you know she can be absolutely terrifying?

She came with me when I went to look for someone to translate the spells. She promised that she’d keep it a secret from the others. Though I think she’d just be nice cause I’m already sure that Zunair read my last letter to you and told everyone.

But she’s still being very nice about it, so I have to hope she won’t tell anyone anyway.

But anyway.

So we went out to see if we could find someone who would tell me what the spells I copied down did. But unfortunately, pretty much everyone charges for that kind of stuff. Apparently, they charge more for different types of spells?

I don’t get it, but ok? I guess?

So I’m going to be struggling with that, and cause I don’t really want to spend the group money cause I was an idiot, well, I’m a little stuck. And most of them won’t even accept work for payment. I mean, I guess nowhere back home does that, but I've gotten a little used to it. Which is a problem for later, but really, why won’t they just translate for work? It would be fine for them!

But I guess they wouldn’t be making money, which is kinda the point of a business, and if they can better spend their time doing other things, they probably should.

And if I can’t do that stuff for them, then I guess they should probably do it themselves. Which is slightly irritating because, like, they’re right, and I know why, they gotta be the one to do it, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating. Also, I don’t want to waste money on it, so I’ll have to pony up even though I don’t want to because I was an idiot.

But you probably want to know why Grace is terrifying?

The most likely answer is she's scary because she is, but you can read the rest here:

Or read more by this author here: 

#Dear Dad #DearDad #dear dad #Dear Dad Series #my writing #writing #writer #female writer #series #webseries #patreon exclusive #Grace Sheridan #Jack Boyer #Letter Format #letter series #serial #webserial #Reese Williams #Riley Ryan #Willow May #Zunair Seth #sporadic updates #sporadic #updated Sporadically #sporadic Episodes #episodes updated sporadically #salutations father #greetings parental unit #ongoing project #writing more

[kennedyxneills]

tw: death mention, death, stabbing, knife, drowning, murder

Dear Dad,

I thought today was going to be so difficult. I mean it was— every time I looked through that lens, and I saw the two of them, I couldn’t help but think of us. And then I had to remember and lose you all over again. It hurt. So bad.

But then I met someone.

And they understood what it meant, even though I’m sure I was slurring, when I admitted that I just wished people knew what it felt like to have the person they loved get ripped from them. And that I’m not crazy. That I’m valid for hurting. Especially when I know to my core even still that what happened wasn’t out of thin air or accidental or whatever everyone always always wants to spew.

They understood that you were taken from me.

And I know I can’t have you back but… but they think I can help make it right.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen but, Dad, I’m excited. I feel like I finally get to return the favor for everything you did for me when you were still here. I’ve got a lot to think about. And I’m nervous but I can’t stop smiling despite it all.

It’s going to be good.

“I know what we talked about. I know that I promised, it’s just… it’s just that it’s real now!” Kennedy’s voice shook as she spoke. Her fingers grasped at the ring on her finger, twisting and turning it around her knuckle. She hated the way that her lower lip was quivering. She hated the look in the eyes staring back at her, the disappointment and frustration they held. Most of all she hated the fear that had been coursing through her ever since that news report popped up on her television screen.

There was no going back now.

Faking enough courage, Kennedy stepped forward, nodding her head as she listened to them hiss. Weak. Clearly you’re not cut out for this. I should have never taken the risk on you. Her sandy blonde hair shook wildly. “Please,” she begged, gritting her teeth to fight the tears coming through. “I just need more time. I promise! I want to try, I want this, I… I’m new to this, okay? I’ve never killed anyone before!”

An honest statement punctuated by the squeak of a door’s hinges.

Kennedy stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. The breath was suddenly stripped from her lungs. And as her blue eyes looked from their corners, the troubled heart in her chest beat loud, thrashing against her ribcage at the sight of Louis’s ginger hair.

Where she stood anchored, the other one in the room had no hesitations.

Let me show you how it’s done.

From the moment she’d tucked herself behind the driver’s seat to now, standing at the edge of town, at the edge of an embankment with tire tracks beside her, Kennedy felt as if she was underwater. Adrenaline coursed through her, leaving the words and the thoughts in her head to become muffled, too caught up in their own riptide. You’re doing this. You can do this. I can’t believe you’re doing this. Oh my god, we’re doing it.

It was only as she followed the tire tracks down, catching sight of the white Mercedes, that the pulsing of her thoughts had become more singular: did you do it? When she had visualized this moment in her head, the car had been meant to take the plunge into the icy water. It was supposed to sink down, taking Jake with it, doing the worst of the job for her. Only… it wasn’t in the water. It hadn’t even made it all the way down the embankment, getting itself tangled in the brush, the snow, finding the trees with a crash.

“Oh no,” Kennedy whispered, straining through the grit of her teeth, her worry apparent in the way she bounced, jittering in place. Her inexperience had her torn: did she go and check or did she leave and risk having to face her failure? And what was she supposed to say? This was supposed to be how she proved herself. How were they going to take her seriously now? How were they going to trust her? She needed this.

It was as she’d tested lifting her foot, that a twig snapped in the distance. Her head whipped to the side, eyes darting along the tree line in panic. There, amongst the pines, a figure stood, watching.

I did it, Dad.

You know the real crazy part? It was Vivi’s face when I did it. She was so surprised. You’d think after nine years that she might’ve finally got it but no, that’s asking too much. I know I played nice, played best friends, but the fact that she never knew how much her family hurt me?? I bet her dad’s playing victim now too. Too focused on himself that he can’t pause for a second and think about what he did to you. Well now he did it to himself.

Just like I have this room, your room, he’s got hers now. They might not understand but they’re going to learn, Dad. They’ll have their own nine, ten, plus years to visit that room and her grave and the headlines that’ll come out and it’ll be their turn to feel this pain.

I’m not alone in it anymore.

And you know, the best part is that I’m not even done. This feeling? It’s only going to grow. I blamed him the most because he was your boss, it was his boat, but he wasn’t on it. And all those people that wouldn’t listen… they’re forced to now.

I’ve been waiting so long to scream.

Despite having lived just a block or so away from the bed and breakfast, Kennedy could not remember the last time she’d come that way, almost always following the same route in and out of Ashmore. The memory coming to her mind then was a sunny summer day, the glittery tassels of her Barbie bicycle tickling her freckled skin as she rolled down the sidewalk. What was then bright and warm, stained with faded chalk scribbles, was now dark as the night around her.

It was only just half-past eight and yet the streets were dark. The neighborhood had taken on an eerie quality with the only light coming from the faint glow of light hidden behind shut curtains. The happenings around Nightrest had caused many to shelter in place, seeking the safety of their homes, treating drawn pieces of fabric like they were metal guards. Or bulletproof glass.

Kennedy crept along the side of the homes, clad in black; the brightest thing about her was the item she held in her hand, though— like everything in this town— it was old and worn by the years, its shade of red cut down to nearly a pink. Still, given her history, Kennedy was careful to shield its color, holding the gas canister to her chest. She could feel the contents slash against the side with each of her steps.

Kennedy stood amongst the crowd at Rhee’s, though stood would have been a poor choice of word given how she hung on Malachi’s shoulder. Her head hung back as she peered up at the television screen, pouting as her eyes, lids heavy, slowly traced the court. When a whistle blew and everyone around them jeered, she allowed jumbled words to fall off her tongue. “Was that good? Wait, why does Gorgonzola get to…”

She squinted harder then, paying no attention to the explanation aimed in her direction. Instead, her focus moved from the arch of the basketball, down towards the shelves of liquor, then onto the bar. An empty glass sat on the counter, sat in a ring of liquid. Kennedy’s knee suddenly went weak, her weight on him increasing for a second before she wobbled up taller, “Sorry, sorry,” she slurred, patting his shoulder before stepping back, “I’m good.” Manicured fingers brushed loose bits of hair back behind her head, the very same head that bobbed up and down in a nod, like that single action could convince them both that she was, in fact, ‘good.’ The same bobbing continued as she hiked the strap of her purse higher up her shoulder. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be… right back.”

Her hand fluttered, trailing behind her as her feet carried her through the crowd, occasionally stumbling, bumping into shoulders and chairs before finally finding the line. Just one person stood in front of her, waiting for that private girls’ room. Kennedy killed the time complimenting her jacket. As the other, and the jacket, retreated, she wracked her brain to think if it had ever been in the Trove’s inventory, an item passed perhaps between her or Vivi’s hands. Kennedy giggled then, allowing her lips to press wide, her eyes to squint, all her actions that little bit extra.

It wasn’t until it was her turn. It wasn’t until the door closed behind her, the lock turned. It wasn’t until she gripped the edge of the sink and looked up into the mirror, that Kennedy allowed the façade to fade away. In seconds, she transformed, standing tall, evaluating herself in the mirror. Should she smudge her lipstick more? Is her hair too neat?

Looking into that mirror, Kennedy stared herself down. Tonight was important. She had to get this right. They all needed to believe her.

Kennedy O’Neill, too drunk, too sloppy, too hung up and heart-eyed to be capable of anything like tonight. Just a dumb blonde little girl who tossed back too many.

A problem hidden in plain sight.

The last few months had lent her more knowledge about the yacht club. Despite living here her whole life, her access had been mostly restricted to the dock and to the lobby and to the balcony that overlooked the ocean. Tonight, she had wandered deeper, to the parts where the music could hardly reach. The distant chatter and chuckles of the crowd twirling in their overpriced gowns played in the background as her fingers tightened around the knife in her hand. In the tiny coat room, the soundtrack that played was the gasp of air Kage struggled to find as the blade pushed further into his gut.

Rising onto her tiptoes, even in her high heels, Kennedy placed her face in front of his. “Your father didn’t do anything,” she snarled, jutting her chin as the anger fueled her. “He let him die.” That last word she punctuated with a further push of her knife. The corners of her lips curved as she watched Kage’s features twist with agony. It was evidence to her that what she was doing was working.

This was always about her father.

She had thought of him when she’d plunged that knife into Vivi. She had thought of him when she shoved that tongue down Kerryn’s mouth: he should have said more. She had thought of him from the moment she followed Kage down the hall.

Thinking of him, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “He let my father die. He didn’t say anything. He just got to keep living.” God, how badly she wanted to scream. The whole town deserved to hear it. They were all compliant now. All of them just sat around like it didn’t matter. Like Kennedy’s world hadn’t completely shattered. “He’s going to know what it feels like,” she promised, those blue eyes glossy and maddened, wide and wild.

The pretty blonde girl that everyone knew had fully transformed inside those four walls.

With a vicious tug, Kennedy yanked the knife from his flesh and took a long stride back. She admired the red that stained his white shirt and the thud of his knees hitting the floor. There was so much life already drained from him. “But see,” Kennedy started, tiptoeing a bit closer again, the bloody knife raised, pointed towards his dark and weary face, “I’m nice. He at least gets a body to go visit.”

And with that, she slashed her knife across his features, carving what might’ve looked like a smile.

I’d forgotten how cool the water could feel against my skin.

I haven’t gone into the sea ever since I lost you. It never felt right. Or maybe I was scared that if I did that then I could somehow feel you, feel the way you must’ve felt sinking below the waves. How much you must have kicked. How tight your lungs had to have been. How wretched that boat must have looked above, how traitorous.

It’s funny because I think I knew that feeling on land.

Now, I feel like I’m just floating. I feel light.

I can’t wait to see you.

I think Peter’s going to be right; I think you’re going to be so proud of me.

Remember when you used to call me your little warrior? Remember how you used to tell me to ‘show me that face’ and how I’d scrunch up my face and clench my fists? Remember how you’d pat my head, grin, and say ‘there’s my girl’?

I’m right here, Dad.

I’m finally home.

#nightrest:gala #nightrest:event005 #self para #dear dad #......................................................... #... #...... #........................................................... #................................ #....................................................... #.............................................................................................................. #................................... #.................................. #........................................... #note: for sake of the storyline we selected mr haye's career and linked him to fishing

[thesecretherstory0]

i surround my dad with realness. I am his constant reminder of existence and its burdens (more known as responsibilities.) He puts his head on his palms on our antique couch as he implies regrets in every voice he utters to me.

Our hatred and disappointment are a thick mirror glass between us,

When it dissociates us, we face our own reflection despairingly.

I realized, then, how similar we are to each other,

but the lies reflect itself—it forms a wall— that we can never get through.

#short poetry #short prose #poems #poems about dad #dear dad #father hatred poems

[alidravana]

Dear Dad

Author: Alidravana

Fandom: Call of Duty - Ghosts

Ship: Hesh/Kick, background Logan/Keegan

Length/Rating: ~2K, Mature

Tags: Grief, Mourning, Anger, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Esteem Issues, Protective Older Brother, Supportive Teammates, Falling in Love

Summary:

Hesh writes a series of letters to his father after his death.

My entry for Day 30 for @flufftober: Dear Diary. Thanks to the wonderful @sugaredmayhem for editing. Tried something a bit different with this fic, would love to know your thoughts!

Please enjoy reading (here on A03)!

#flufftober2022 #day30 #dear diary #call of duty #ghosts #hesh/kick #hesh walker #dear dad #letters #first person #grief #anger #falling in love #fluff

[amestilskin]

If and when I get my first book, Dear Dad, published, this will be part 2.

#narcissistic mom #book title #trying to become an author #healing my inner child #dear dad

[mashpoll]

The Winchester Tapes (s6 e6): Winchester describes life in a MASH to his parents on a tape recording he's sending home.

Dear Dad (s1 e12): In a letter to his dad, Hawkeye describes the 4077th's follies during the Christmas season.

#the winchester tapes #dear dad #season 6 #season 1 #round 1

[lesbianfreyja]

its weirdly pathetic to have my father as my arch nemesis like damn couldnt u have a social life and get acc hate? 😒

#posting ig stories....about daddy issues at 26?!??!!? #yet...it gets easier. no its not easy believe me but it gets easier #alex.txt #dear dad

[nowitstimetoheal]

Dear Dad

Dear readers ~ first of all, I want to warn you that this letter discusses my actual childhood sexual assault, neglect, and describes a disturbing amount of hate and anger I had and the thoughts of homicide and my suicide attempt. This will not be for everyone. If these discussions trigger you, please know your feelings are valid. It’s alright to be triggered even though people want to weaponize that against you and make it seem like you’re overreacting. You are not overreacting. You’re hurt and are dealing with things that people can’t see or feel for themselves. Being triggered is your brain’s way of protecting you. I’m sorry you’re going through whatever you’re going through. I hope that if you choose to read this that it might be able to articulate your thoughts or helps you see things in a different light. I hope that you find peace. I hope you will know love. I hope you can heal. You are worth it. Your life is worth living. I know it’s easy for some schmuck to say that. It’s entirely different to mean it. I’ve been through my own hell and it took me a long time to accept that my life is worth living. I sincerely hope you can reach that same bliss. Because it really is so freeing to realize you matter.

October 6, 2022

7:17 PM - Surprise, AZ

Dear Dad,

It’s been a long time since we last spoke or saw each other, so I’m sure this is out of the blue and you’re wondering why I’m suddenly writing to you.

Maybe you’re interested. Maybe you don’t care. Maybe you think I’mw writing to ask forgiveness for what happened between us. The truth is that I don’t care one way or the other how you feel. I’m doing this for me, and me alone, so take it as you will.

Since the beginning of the lockdown, I’ve been watching a lot of tarot readings. Yes, I know mom wouldn’t be happy about it and you probably think my soul is going to hell because of that.

Save me a seat, I guess.

Anyway… these readers have told me over and over again that I have something from my past that I need to heal so that I can move on and be happy. It’s easy to say that love and abundance are coming into someone’s life. I could start up a YouTube channel and do just that so I can quit my job, but then I found a couple of readers who mentioned things I’ve never told anyone. Not my closest friends, not my fiancé, not a priest, religious leader, a therapist… not even my dog.

It’s taken me nearly three years to figure out what they were talking about, but then, a few readers mentioned that I could use my gift to help others heal.

It dawned on me immediately what it was that I needed to heal and so, here I am, using my gift of writing to make myself vulnerable so I can try and heal this pain so that I can have the life you robbed me of.

The first memory I have was of two men standing over mer, one holding my wrists in one hand, my waist in the other while the other man held my ankles up while he raped me.

Remember that, dad? You should. You were there too. You were watching all of it happen just feet away. But instead of being enraged to the point of murdering these men like other men have, you just stood there and watched.

Why?

What happened that would lead you to allowing your only daughter, your three year old child to be raped by two men?

Did you care about how this would affect me for the rest of my life? Did you think I would forget about it because of how young I was?

Did you ever look at me or at my mother and think of what happened?

Do you regret it? Do you wish you had done anything different to protect me?

Part of me doesn’t think you did. Know why? Because of how you looked at me until I left the family. Yes, I’ll admit it. I left the family. You didn’t actually disown me. You gave me two options: respect you (and that absolute cunt of a wife you moved into mom’s bed weeks after she died you bastard) or leave. I couldn’t respect you because you chose to believe her over me. You let her label all the food except the spaghetti for me and AJ to eat. You let her tell me to get a job if I wanted to eat while you told me I couldn’t have one. I couldn’t respect either of you for that so I left.

But anyway, I digress….

You looked at me like I was a piece of meat you could have. That’s why I hid in my room all the time. Remember that orange halter dress I had when I was in high school? I loved it so much. I felt so pretty in it and you had to go and take that away from me by ogling me.

Sure, it was going to happen. I wanted my boyfriend to ogle me. I wanted other cute guys at school to ogle me. That was fine because they were my age.

A girl should never be sexualized by her own god damn father.

You fucking disgusting dog.

I wanted to kill you and AJ when I was five. Did you know about that? I wonder if mom knew. I wonder if anyone knew that. I had plans on how I would do it. I was going to put bleach in your coffee. I didn’t do anything because I knew I would be caught. I was so angry, but I didn’t know why. 

I had forgotten what had happened. I just knew anger. I knew I was afraid of you. I knew I hated the way you looked at me. I hated being around you.

We all did though. 

Mom wanted to divorce you when I was five. She was talking to your mom about it once. We were at grandma’s house. AJ and I were standing in the front room, remember the one she used to put the Christmas tree in so we could see it from the street or see the neighbor guy who played Santa Claus? The room where we played Monopoly and checkers? That room.

Grandma told grandpa that mom wanted to divorce you. That was when mom came straight to me and told me to tell her if I ever didn’t like you.

I wanted to say how much I hated you, but I didn’t. I was scared. 

It wasn’t fair of her to put it on me, but I think about it sometimes. Would she still be here if I had spoken up? If I had been braver, would she have gotten cancer? Would we be happier? Would we be normal? 

Do you realize the pain you’ve caused? Do you care? Do you wonder what would have happened if you and mom had divorced? Did you have to be in control? Did you threaten to take AJ and I if she pursued it?

She was so sad, but had so much to give. Do you realize that? She could talk to anyone like she’d known them forever. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to me and I think you put her in a glass container like a firefly because you didn’t want to give her up. You stifled her, you stifled me, you stifled AJ. You ruined three lives because of how fucking selfish you were.

I didn’t understand why I was so angry all the time. I didn’t understand why AJ got all the attention no matter how hard I tried. You took so much happiness, so much joy, so much life.

I wanted my uncles to do terrible things to me. I wanted to crush weak men. The rage I had was hard to control. 

It wasn’t until a few years ago, just before the pandemic, that I remembered what had happened. I watched a documentary about a girl who admitted to having the same kinds of thoughts I did. It was terrifying and confusing. Everything snapped back into my mind like my brain had tried to hide this terrible memory away with duct tape, but the tape failed and memories flooded back to me.

I realized this is why I lashed out so much when I was a kid. Why I had a bad relationship with food. Why I couldn’t form a decent relationship with anyone. I had to have control over absolutely everything because I was the only one who could keep me safe. Do you understand that? As a *child* I had to control things because I didn’t think anyone would protect me.

I acted out as a way to cry out for help. I didn’t know the words to use. I didn’t understand what had happened so I did what I could to get someone, ANYONE, to help me. But no one listened.

I could have jumped up on top of a table in a crowded room and screamed until my vocal cords snapped and no one would care.

It would just be “Shut up Zoë. AJ’s the only one that matters. Not you. No one cares that you were raped and that you were only three. No one cares. You don’t matter you stupid, pathetic, useless, ugly little cretin!”

Why didn’t I matter to anyone? Why did no one love me enough to protect me? I was a baby. I was so small. Why did you hate me? Why did you do this to me? WHY ME?!?! I wanted to die. I took a handful of pills the night after mom died. I was so scared of what you were going to do to me.

What did you do that led up to you letting your coworkers rape me? Oh yeah, I remember them wearing their camos. 

The weird thing is, I’m not angry with them. I will never have justice for what happened. Not from them, not from you. I’ve struggled thinking a higher power cares about me. It’s taken me a long time to figure out what I believe in religiously and spiritually, but I’m making progress. I’m learning to be grateful for all the bad that’s come into my life and I’m trying to look at things that go wrong in my life and try to understand why it’s happened. 

I’m going to have to learn how to clearly and efficiently communicate my emotions, especially when I’m upset, to my partners. I’m going to have to learn that most people aren’t going to flip out on me when I’m angry about something and trust they’ll listen to me and do what they can to rectify the situation. Do you understand that because of something you let happen to me when I was a child has made me so skittish and pathetic that I can’t ask my partner to turn down his music a little because I am terrified he’ll lash out at me? He has a terrible temper - like you -- fuck he’s so much like you - but it’s not fair to think he’ll get upset about something simple like a volume adjustment. It’s not like I’m asking him for $200.

I have a lot of work to do to become normal again. It’s going to take so much trust in other people and I am scared I’m going to fail and be alone for the rest of my life.

Step one involves getting back out on my own. I’m going to have to leave my current fiancé because I realize he’s not good for me. He just doesn’t care about me. I think he has a lot of personal work to do for himself too. I hope that me leaving will help him see that and it’ll be the catalyst to him becoming his best self.

Step two is to make myself a priority. Eat better, exercise, pay off debt, save money, buy a car, make close friends I can have fun with and trust, start my own business, take a cooking class or two, and dare to be able to dream of having enough to save up for retirement. 

All of this pain over a stupid decision you made when I was three.

I hope you can taste your regret.

I will never have justice and fuck you for that.

But what more can I do? What more can I say? I could keep on hating you and pulling those memories back up. What good does that do for me? It doesn’t. It just keeps hurting me and I’m so sick of being tired and sad. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of not having love in my life. I’m tired of not having friends. 

I heard you remarried and are actually happy now. That’s good. I heard AJ got married and had a baby. I’ll never know my nephew or sister in law because I can’t be around you and you’ve all poisoned AJ against me.

I hear you became a born again Christian. 

I pray God will deal with you on my behalf. You’ll get yours in ways I can never carry out.

I’m still angry, I’m still hurt (I’m crying hard right now but this has been cathartic to write). Can you be angry and still forgive? I have to let this go. I have to. I’ll never heal if I don’t and I want so much to heal. It won’t happen overnight, I know that, but in time it will. I just have to take this first step.

I hope one day I find a friend who is close enough to me to be like a sister and her dad is a good man who loves his daughter unconditionally and would do anything to protect her. I hope I can look at their relationship and pretend that was us. Would that be a Band-Aid though?

I was so proud of you being in the military. For a long time. I remember when you went off to Desert Storm and how grandma hung a picture the news station took of me when you were coming back. I had a big floppy hat on and a little American flag. I think I had on a pink and white striped shirt and my hair was short.

You know… I didn’t know you worked with the Special Olympics. That’s really commendable and admirable and I’m proud of you for that. That was really touching to learn.

I’m sorry to hear you have cancer now and are having problems paying for monthly bills. Fuck cancer. It sounds like your prognosis is good and I’m glad to hear of that. Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I wish the worst on you. I’m not you. 

I have to move on from all this. I have to let this go. I have to heal. I have to love myself and learn how to live. I have to be both a mother and a father to myself. I have to protect and care for my inner child the way you and mom should have. I know I treated mom like she was perfect after she died, but I was a kid when she left us. What more could you expect? Did you know she said she wanted to call me Sai? I wish I had been brave enough to ask her why. I presumed she was talking about Sais. I didn’t understand where that came from because I thought our conversation had been pleasant. I didn’t know what I had said to make her say that. I just walked away because I was scared to ask. I wish I knew what she meant.

Anyway, I have a lot to do, so - I forgive you. Completely. I hope you know peace in your golden years. I hope one morning, you wake up early and go for a walk. I hope that morning, it’s misty and the sky looks like it’s made of velvet until the golden orange sun rises and bathes everything in light. I hope that morning is quiet and cool. I hope when that morning happens, you think of me. 

Take care daddy.

 - Zoë

#nonfiction #true story #dear dad #dad issues #self healing #healingjourney #child abuse #child sex offenses #child neglect #suicide #homicide #anger #hurt #trigger words #forgive #move on #the best is yet to come #open letter #dad problems #fuck cancer #attempted suicide #not for everyone #unedited #not proofread #i pray we all know peace

[sheena1234]

"No remorse for the trust you're breaking

You run but then back you fall

Suffocate in the mess you're making

You can't get enough

You take and take and take and take and take Fuck it, are you listening?"

#dear dad #cytaty #quotes #blackout #lp #linkin park

[ellowynbeimler]

Oct 7

Dear Dad,

It’s been a little bit. I know you’re probably worried, but we’re doing okay. Grace is still recovering from her wounds, but she’s mostly been on the horse, so she hasn’t been irritating them too much. They’re not healing anywhere near as fast as they had been, but I think that’s most likely due to the lack of magical healing that’s going on. Willow’d been checking her bandages every day. Ben was nice enough to give us some for the road, and we were nearly out when we found this place. It’s not on the maps, but the people are friendly. They’re also in the middle of their harvest season, so they offered us some help in exchange for helping them. It’s been hard, really back-breaking work; none of us would let Grace help, so she’s been pouting almost since we arrived. They did let her peel the apples, so I think she’s happy to have something to do, but really, I don’t think she should do that much. She might hurt herself more if she pushes too hard, and I think she’s going to keep pushing herself and probably make her wounds worse, but there’s not much I can do about it but tell her to be careful.

To read more, go here:

#Dear Dad #DearDad #dear dad #Dear Dad Series #my writing #writing #writer #female writer #series #webseries #patreon exclusive #Grace Sheridan #Jack Boyer #Letter Format #letter series #serial #webserial #Reese Williams #Riley Ryan #Willow May #Zunair Seth #sporadic updates #sporadic #updated Sporadically #sporadic Episodes #episodes updated sporadically #salutations father #greetings parental unit #ongoing project #writing more

[hi-parents]

Dearest "father"

There's no way in hell you are this oblivious. Right? Maybe I forgot that you have the self reflection skills of a piece of matte plastic. Regardless, if the person you are tying to "talk" to gives short answers, speaks incredibly cryptically and physical shakes (oh man it's almost like you traumatized me or something); you shouldn't do everything in your power to "make conversation". You should realize the other person is incredibly uncomfortable and, just throwing out ideas here, stop.

I understand that a core pillar of your sense of self is a perceived inability to do wrong. But this? This ain't right. Did you know that I went to such great lengths to avoid you and your tactics that I became so dehydrated I thought I had a UTI for several weeks? Yeah, my kidneys are the picture of health, thanks for asking. Do you even know if I've eaten today? Do you even care?

From where I'm standing, all I see is an attempt to prove you tried, so, so hard, to foster a relationship with your child. An attempt to prove to the courts you deserve joint custody, to pay less child support. I pray it doesn't work and will do everything in my power to prevent you from succeeding.

Am I a part of the problem? Oh, absolutely. That said, communication is a bit difficult when one's voice is shaking and all I can think about is how our last full conversation ended up with you chasing me up the stairs and me locking myself in the bathroom. You didn't even stop because you realized you were wrong to do so! Someone had to get between you and I and another had to threaten to call the police.

Honestly, I'll be carrying that shit forever and I detest you for it. I hate that I can never feel at ease because of you. I hate that whenever I leave I immediately feel like I'm going to fall asleep, simply because I am no longer in your presence and feel safe.

That said, nothing speaks louder than your own actions. Also, turns out making someone fear for their immediate physical safety is in fact child abuse as is emotional abuse. Have fun with that little piece of legislation.

I look forward to doing everything in my power to prevent you from hurting me again. Sorry man, I'm a bit too busy to care about sad you are that I no longer speak to you. Actions have consequences, deal with it.

Sincerely,

The person you will never seen again if they have anything to say about it

.

#anon we love u #u deserve the world im so sorry #submission #submission ask #ask #dear parents #anon ask #anon #fuck you parents #shitty parents #dear dad #dear father #fuck you dad #fuck you father #queued post #abuse tw #ptsd

[deardad2023]

Dear Dad

I should have told you more that I loved you, I should have hugged you more. I should have said that you mean a lot to me more, I should have showed you more than I did that you were amazing. I should have listened to you more. I should have taken your advice, I should have been better.

You made everything better but you can’t make this better, WHY CAN YOU NOT MAKE THIS BETTER? Why aren’t you here to give me a hug? Why aren’t you here to help me through this? Why aren’t you here?

I miss you and love you

#dead dad club #dear dad #i miss you #i miss you dad