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Showing results for tags 'alcoholism'.
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I was 14 years old and studying for my GCSEs the day that the diseased turd was brought into my class room. I have since been told that it was brought to my school with the sole purpose of raping my face. It was the local social services, they had set me up. I don't for what reason or under what law they were able to do such things. It really doesn't make any sense to me. I had wanted to join the RAF since the age of 6, I was my long term goal. It's what I had dreamed of doing, its what I studied for. I didn't have a plan 'B' I didn't however have an interest in David Spring's cartoon's or indeed a interest in 'sucking it's di*k'. I am not a homosexual. I can't imagine anyone wanted to go near David Spring. I didn't have an 'interest' in Art. I didn't need to pay for Jamie Conway's cigarette habit. I didn't want to go to Jamie Conway's alcohol birthday party. I didn't want to 'do' LSD. David Spring is beyond ugly and foul and gross and sick and mentally ill and psychically disgusted. I can't quite imagine how a social worker could legally dream up such a thing?? Still my Policeman father 'paid' David Spring to repeatedly orally rape me. Apparently it was done for my sister. What 'mental illness' she suffers from, I can't quite fathom. Being a 'teenager' is hard enough without being raped by the diseased turd. Jamie Conway cost me my GCSE's. Emma Gibson (or whatever the fuck her name is?) cost me my place in the ATC and my career in the RAF. Claire Guy cost me my health and my wife and children...
:blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: :blush: I drank. I smoked. I sucked a friend off, he returned the favor. I really appreciate that especially since he's straight. And now I have to wear long sleeves. I never had to wear long sleeves before other than weather. I defiled my arm with an ink pen. My friend watched me do this. he's a bit of a sociopath and hurting myself kind of turns me on too. My day is complete.
You said that you were sorry, You said it wouldn't happen again, That the alcohol was behind it, That you would make amends You said that you were sorry, Indeed it happened once more, You made us empty promises The same ones from before You said that you were sorry, You requested another chance For a short time things improved, Followed by the same old song and dance You said that you were sorry, But by then it was too late I was much too scared to leave, My fear had sealed my fate You said that you were sorry, I knew your words were lies, Your previous actions and words Created many hidden cries You said that you were sorry, But your drinking rarely ceased The violence unpredictable, My hopes for peace decreased You said that you were sorry, But what were you apologizing for? The verbal abuse, keeping us up, Maybe for slamming that door? You said that you were sorry, But the damage has been done Your violent actions over the years Built up in my memory one by one You said that you were sorry, Being arrested taught you a lot, In the back of my mind I know You're only sorry you got caught Don't say that you're sorry, The words long lost their meaning I don't believe your kind actions Are anything less than scheming.
I used to race to the front door when I'd hear you come home, I would greet you excitedly with a hug and a smile I was daddy's little girl, it didn't take much to make you proud - Nor did it take much to make you angry and hostile. As I grew older it was much more of a challenge, Making you proud and appeasing you were a definition combined. I appeased you one moment, then suddenly disappointed, And proud again the next moment in your shifty state of mind. Unpredictably temperamental and distant you became, Tensions growing stronger between us year after year. Always intimidated, yet ever-longing to make you proud, I remember when that need to please became motivated by fear. Where once the motivation was a rewarding "good girl!", Time and alcohol transformed the father I once knew. Rarely the recognition for simply doing my best now, It seems you are disappointed no matter what I do. I was daddy's little girl, what happened to that? Nowadays the best we seem to be able to muster Are attitudes towards each other that are somewhat civil, And, if I may add, just barely cutting the mustard. I'm done wondering what I can do to make you proud, I'm no longer a child - I'm my own woman now I have a need to live for me, follow my heart, my dreams, Sort things out for myself, despite not yet knowing how. I'm in love with an amazing man of whom you seem to disapprove, I want to be with him forever - oh how I'd love to have your blessing, But I don't need your approval in order to be happy, And as nice as that would be, I seem to be digressing - I just wish the daddy I once had could come out for just a second, To tell me he still loves me, and that my efforts weren't in vain. To tell me he is proud of me, and will be no matter what, Because he loves his little girl, and that's the way it will remain. Sadly that fantasy of mine will never materialize to reality, We've grown far too much apart - our stubborn natures much the same. We each find fault in each other and deny the fault the other found, Until one of us admits defeat, blame becomes our game.