This life is not working for me

I learned that line after 10 years of therapy. It's never been as true.

I am living my dad's life now. After my mom died he gave up.

Me too.

You’re going to the UK?  Visiting with what used to be my family too?  Or pushing psychedelics on unqualified users? Either way. 

You made me give up. I don’t believe it’s wise to claim you’re impervious to gaslighting and intentionally harmful sociopathy. I certainly am not that strong and I never desired to be. 

I always walked home from any workout with you where you got out of control. It was a rule and I never cheated myself by not observing it.

And man you used to lose your shit when I did that. I’m so proud of myself, far more from trying to get away from you when you were a rude shit than for being a sensitive caring partner. You took the later as cheap gifts—but you could not take “fuck you” any more than any regular, socialized adult. You are so much weaker than any woman I ever met. (And let’s not talk about sex. Remember when I said you were bad in bed? The week my dad died and you wanted to talk about my masturbation habits?  I’m sure you’ve long forgotten everything we did jointly and any caring behavior—but you will never forget that I told you the truth about my experience of you in bed. Dreadful. Punitive. Boring.)

I love how furious you became. My little 4 year old in adult clothing. 

Retard. Fraud. Narcissist just like your dad.