Ok I was planning this to be short, but it’s turned into a long one sorry! 



I feel like I can trace most of my biggest issues back to specific things my dad said and did to me. I know it’s more complicated than that, and I do believe the theory of me having been predisposed/already an anxious and sensitive child. I’ve always felt like I don’t have a right or reason to be this way, almost like imposter syndrome maybe, because so many people have had such terrible, traumatic things happen to them. But recently memories have been coming up and playing on my mind, and it’s occurred to me that he might actually have been abusive. I don’t want to throw that word around and maybe it wouldn’t be classed as abuse idk, but my point is that whether or not I was overly sensitive, the way he treated me was not ok.  




The feeling I have is that he resented me for being too sensitive (and for other things I was, or he thought I was), and he thought that by punishing me for it and making me feel bad enough, I’d stop being that way. Obviously that didn’t work, and instead I just learned to hide it and pretend to be happy at all costs, along with a million other unhealthy coping mechanisms and beliefs about myself.




I’m 28 years old, and lying in my bed curled up in a ball crying when I relive things that happened, some almost 20 years ago, it’s like I’ve never stopped being that 10-year-old child. I can hear the threat in his voice, see the disgust in his eyes, and it hurts just as much now as it did then. I’m a non-functioning, empty wreck of a person who can’t get close to anyone, can’t work, is constantly raging with anger, despises everything about myself, and he turned me into this. He took away my chance to live a normal life and have a family and friends and a job and a house and all the other things I used to think I’d do. I’ve just noticed the irony that one of the things he detested about me was that I loved watching TV and would choose doing that over wholesome things like going outside or playing sports (he loves sports). And now my life is literally just lying in bed staring at the TV all day, because everything else is too hard.




I’m very much quiet borderline and I’ve never brought anything up to him as an adult, despite having gone long periods (couple of years sometimes) where I’ve refused to speak to him. The worst thing is I don’t think he has any idea why, or that the idea that he did anything wrong could ever cross his mind. 
But my question is how do you move on from the blame, and the anger it makes you feel? I have a strong desire that I want him to know what he did to me, and to be punished for it. I think having a child with the life I have is punishment enough, but only if he considers it to be of his own making. I also acknowledge that exacting punishment isn’t a healthy way of moving on from something. We got back in contact last year, and I think not having him in my life will be more detrimental to me than having him in it, but I’m really having the urge to cut him out again because it’s just so exhausting trying to keep up the facade. 




I know some people reading this will have endured way worse than what I went through, and I hope this doesn’t offend anyone. Thanks if anyone made it to the end, even if no one replies writing this has brought up some new realisations for me and maybe there will be some catharsis in that. 



TL;DR: I blame my dad for my BPD and resulting mess of a life. Is there a way I can stop feeling so angry about it?