Horrified and saddened by my father's malice and his pride in what he's done.

It's no secret to anyone who knows me fairly well that my childhood was steeped in abuse. While I'm not new to the concept of narcissism, the idea I was raised by a pair of them (alternating between them on occasions, to be worse than the other) was one I dismissed, because at the time I had no knowledge of the fact that nParents often have a "golden child" as well as a "scapegoat" kid.

I was most DEFINITELY the latter - hell, I've been blamed for causing my mother's cancer by stressing her out, when get this: I was not living at home and they had almost zero knowledge of me and what was happening with/to me during this time. I've been blamed by my dad for causing him to lose his semi-celebrity race car driver friend, who molested me. At first he was enraged his friend tricked him, as opposed to being angry I'd been improperly and sexually touched by a man he invited into my company and encouraged me to encourage him to stay the night - he was helping me move furniture into a new place, and finished at around 2-3 AM.

I've been blamed as a rape victim and my trauma over it minimized. My dad claims I'm prone to exaggerating and plain up making up stories. These events culminated in suicide attempts and suicidal behavior/a death wish that still persists, and my father considers these as problems that affect him negatively because they don't show him in a positive light.

Most recently, he DENIED truths he once acknowledged such as the severity of my beatings and painted my mother as a saint who never laid a hand on me, despite her being the most vicious to me at one point. The floor to wall mirror broke when she threw me into it, resulting in a social worker arriving to our house because of suspicious inquiries from school about the visibility of my new wounds. Of course, she further blamed me for starting up trouble and I was beaten again and told I would regret it for the rest of my life if I EVER got people like them involved with our family again: the terror she felt was at the possibility of losing my younger sis - the one who has never, ever been able to do a single wrong in the eyes of both my parents.

My mom was the one who didn't visit me when I was hospitalized for a heart disease for quite a long period of time - consequently the illness was so severe that I was ordered to see a cardiologist yearly for the rest of my life, so they could warn me of any upcoming risks of a heart attack nearly 75% guaranteed to occur due to heavy arterial scarring by the time I'm 35 - I haven't gone for an echocardiogram ever since the initial, mandatory one ordered at my follow up. The follow up they took me to, in order to primarily ask the doctors how much longer my parent imposed quarantine needed to last, so my sister wouldn't risk getting the disease. I was 6 at the time and didn't understand half of the conversation occuring in front of me, but still vividly recall the absolute astonishment of the doctor that I was being locked into isolation in my bedroom for months (2 1/2 months it had been, by that time) for.. Get this part, as well.. A disease NOT COMMUNICABLE IN ANY WAY.

Of course, the quarantine remained: their golden child was NEVER going to risk suffering MY fate. As for me? I remember being bored, confused, lonely and hurt during the months during and following my recovery. The isolation changed me, inherently, and for the worse. I formed habits as a six year old that were abnormal in every sense; I began to impose my own forms of self isolation whenever things got bad - even at school, I'd find a cubby or a desk to crawl under and remain there at inappropriate times leading to punishment from teachers, leading to physical and psychological punishments from my parents... Who thanked God my sister was normal, at least. She was, and is NOT. My parents just cannot see it.

But everything that happened to me - was my fault entirely. EVERYTHING.

My fault I got sick - the Kawasaki Disease I got was said to be caused by dirty water vapor inhalation, such as the kind being aired out from recently cleaned carpets. We had our carpets regularly washed, and a few days before I got sick, I had cried and been banished to sleep on the damp floor as punishment. WHY or for WHAT I cried for, I don't know - I was 6 years old. But to this day, they cite that event as completely and totally a punishment from God, for being a disobedient first grader.

Ouch.

This has been a pattern that's followed me throughout my life. My own sister loathes me - there are NO photos of me to be seen in family albums or in the family house - I've overheard them say to friends Ive never met of theirs how they feel sad my sis is an "only child". My sister sticks to this fabricated reality of an only child status too.

I can take that. I can forgive all that.

But what my dad did in retaliation to me trying to figure out where I stand with him via a phone conversation a few days ago?

I'm seething with rage still - albeit numbed rage that's been overshadowed by the horror of finally fully realizing JUST how bad my dad might be.

I still want to doubt this. But I can't deny it, because denial in itself is painful - it's my parents' default go to for anything remotely uncomfortable. So I'm trying to analyze this whilst clinging to a more flattering, acceptable, far more "okay" form of truth in regards to what he did and why he did it.

Maybe you can help me figure it out. Call me out on any suspected biases. Suggest things I've overlooked. Please.

After bring hospitalized in February for depressed feelings and a growing in intensity death wish in response to a set of very regrettable circumstances both caused by me, external variables, the company I had met and spent two months worth of time with, and an accident that resulted in (my opinion) disproportionate consequences for what was honestly a suicide attempt due to simply lacking all desire to live...

I mean, my mom had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer I was being blamed for causing.

I'd been stalked at this Reddit handle by psychotic NeoGaf freaks encouraged into doing so by my BF at the time! Who made it their topic of fun to talk in detail about a grand mal seizure I'd suffered in his company.

Unbeknownst to me, every unflattering aspect of it had been described to them on-line to them in a dedicated thread to myself for their entertainment.

The stalking reached tangible points of notice when we broke up: casualties from that incident included a litter of dead kittens he had given me permission to adopt - while he vacationed without me on a trip he had initially had to win me over to agree accompanying him on - put down when he came back (thank you, ex)... That traumatized me badly, and I forever will feel like a murderer because of that incident. :(

Another consequence: utter disgust at his offer to get back together once I had my emotional state back proper, AKA - after your mom's dead and you're done with this unhappiness about her cancer - I'll date someone else, and then once the mourning period is done with, we can re-open our plans for the wedding you canceled.

And of course, the disgusting as fuck stalking from his Neogaf worshippers - who lacked so much empathy they found it acceptable to take his word for everything and haunt me, taunt me, and slander me as well; when a mutual friend linked me to this forum and the existence of this horrific bullying and stalking that had gone on while I had still been dating him.. I felt BETRAYED.

And ofc, harassed, and tangibly so - they posted direct messages addressed to me, "the fucked up lying whore". Note the one person who did empathize and had enough emotional intelligence and kindness so that he refused to participate in this group harassment and injuring was the ONE individual who had actually spoken with me in person, IRL. Telling.

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I had a LOT going on. And I was so tired of it.

It is pretty damn clear I was horrifically absent of any form of support - something anyone depressed and especially anyone suicidal will state vehemently is NEEDED to recover.

Two years in relative isolation/intense apathetic depression: I got up the motivation to recover. I finally went out and a chain of incidences happened after following a friend to meet other friends at a bar. This resulted in bad, awful shit occurring, culminating in a suicide attempt I only survived due to being so inebriated with Xanax (hence, relaxed muscle state) - the normally fatal injuries very, very unfortunately didn't occur.

But through this incident I finally found the source of support and resources so badly needed and desired for by me for YEARS. It came in the form of a sole police officer who works with the depressed citizens of his jurisdiction due to a very unique mental happiness/wellness program put in place in our city.

To be honest.. And let's seriously be honest: I fancied the man very much too.

My father learned of this from me (stupid of me to be open with him) and despite at first swearing NEVER to talk to this officer who had been trying to contact him repeatedly...

My dad, who had begun a tirade of denial and blame towards me for all sorts of PAST INCIDENCES OF EXTREMELY MINOR CONSEQUENCE: I mean, extremely minor, or downright nonexistent, gaslighted into existence minor.

Example - I one day had messy hair. I have fixed messy hair since.

He repeated this point over 4 times in the conversation, citing this as a "central flaw" and why I'm such a "bad girl, which was why I wasn't told of their vacation to Hawaii or taken along, amongst countless other vacations revealed to me I hadnt known they had gone on". Because of? Messy hair, two and a half months ago - how that impacted his decision to hide vacations taken up to 4 years back? He responded by insulting me, and saying I'd ALWAYS been bad - however when asked for examples? Cited the messy hair 2 1/2 months back.

He ended up accepting the officers phone call, and the officer called me afterwards, from what I put together he'd ranted for an hour things of this nature (that WERE revealed to me he had said; he wanted to know if they we're true). My dad, tried to punish me in his fucking horrible, usual, petty, super emotionally unintelligent, toxic, and CHILDISH way, by lying to an officer of illegal intentions: me, the ASEXUAL, he had said, was going to PROSTITUTE HERSELF as a THREAT TO HIM.

HOW it would be a threat, I don't know!

He called me a METH ADDICT (WUT?!?), and said I'd had cat shit in my hair (Dir he mean the messy hair 2 1/2 months ago, he hadn't stopped mentioning?!) for some reason choosing to keep it there in public - the accusations purely horrified me at first (such as the meth or whatever claim - dude, he was telling this to a POLICE OFFICER!), but ended up with me sitting in absolute disgusted shock. I actually wasn't able to properly respond for a short minute while processing the utter insanity of BULLSHIT I'd heard recounted to me.

Oh! And I almost forgot this one - daddy told him I randomly TAUNT him by telling him I'm not wearing underwear, dafuq?!

Knowing my intense dislike, and very real trauma of all things sexual, and anything related to sexuality, particularly my own - this was a fucking fucked up low blow: not only is it unbelievable in its believability (this is the BS an elementary school bully set on making up a bad rumor about his victim would say), but absolutely pathetically sad in the fact he had even thought up such fucked up lies to attempt staining my character to a man I clearly was fond of, but most importantly found irreplaceable in his importance to my life in his willingness to help. I've been starved of kindness and he had extended it to me, and dad here, had decided to play the punishment game, moving on from his usual set of ways to hurt me to trying to scare one of my only sources of support and friendship by challenging him with tall tales aimed at conflicting with an officer's set of principles.

To be honest, I personally doubt any of his allegations were believed. They're shallow, not well thought out, and just plain stupid in terms of its content - no one would behave that way... I would HOPE.

BUT that's not the main issue fucking with my heart right now - it's that my father, has since admitted to being proud of himself for "finally being frank to somebody". I didn't reply to this. I gave the officer my word not to contact him for a while and have not.

But anybody who has bad a narcissist for a parent should be able to decipher where his pride stemmed from: he believes he's WON. Won a game I'm not playing, have never played, and never will agree to play.

I don't know whether he thinks mistakenly I'm like him, and that when I share my concerns and mention the past, he takes it as an attack or condemnation. His ego is fragile and he protects it like it's made of glass.

Maybe he thinks I was trying to hurt him by manipulating words the way he does when I said I wanted to smooth things over by having us both share what was keeping us at constant odds. It escalated on his end to yelling, then an actual episode of him singing: lalalala to convey how he wasn't listening to me - this was after anytime I would disagree with the accuracy of his recollections or outright catch him gaslighting me.

But he thinks he's struck a major point in this "game" of imagined war.

What the fuck?

How could any dad be happy at trying to run off his daughters only source of support and the individual his daughter admitted at being so happy to have met?

How does his mind translate any of his reactions as him being the "good guy"?

I'm so hurt, horrified, disgusted to the degree I want to actually physically vomit, if I truly have a dad capable of so much evil.

I was always well aware of the impossibility it was to ask him to practice putting himself in my shoes or anyone else's shoes. But is he 100% devoid of empathy or delusional?

I want to understand just as badly as I needed and wanted to vent about all this.

Help me?

And thank you all, for allowing me a place to share this horror.