Liar

Liar

My father was a liar

He got cut off

I’m just sayin -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

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The Universe is talking

The Universe is talking

In the past month weeks I’ve heard of several deaths and illnesses from friends and family.   Yesterday 1 and today another. I feel like the universe is telling me something. It’s an overwhelming feeling. I need to write. I need to write NOW. This book needs to be released and “he” needs to read it. 

Found out he got married a couple days ago. After so many woman he’s been engaged to and left, he finally did it. I doubt that he’s a changed man, but maybe she can soften him up to read it or she can read it to him every night as a bedtime story.  -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

He’s the Eulogist 

He’s the Eulogist 

The funeral starts at eleven. He’s the eulogist. I hope he doesn’t start crying because it probably won’t be real. I feel like he should’ve left this alone. Let someone else do it. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m probably right. 

My dad was close to my aunt I guess, but there were others that were closer. They are family and they weren’t even acknowledged. That makes me mad. He always has to make a scene. He’s selfish and manipulative even now. 

It’s crazy how death can bring people together and push people further apart. I was able to see my grandparents who I cherish, but I realize that my father and I may never have what I always dreamed of. –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter 

Watching myself go down

Watching myself go down

What I hate the most about writing is the temporary depression paired with I can’t fuckin think straight. Now all I can think about is my past. The fights, the struggles, the religion… growing up too fast. 

I have to use my iPhone because my laptop has gone stupid and I need to write when I think about it. I can’t let this stuff stay in. I can’t let it eat away at me until  I die or he dies. 

Since my father is a reader, at least he use to be, maybe he can digest a book by his daughter better thab listening because he NEVER LISTENED!!!! 

It sucks when you have something to say and you never get heard. That’s one of the reasons I write and draw. You can’t be interrupted. -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Bad Attention

Bad Attention

I wanted attention from him, but the kind I got wasn’t what I wanted. I needed him to be my father. To love me like he loved the other little pretty girls. 

I wondered why he didn’t care for me very much. Was it because I didn’t look like him? Was it because I was a girl? Was it because he resented my mother?  Was it because he thought I wasn’t his daughter?

I don’t know, but I could never allow my children to be treated like he treated us. Maybe that’s why I still don’t have any. –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Pic of dad

Pic of dad

I just saw a pic of my father and felt my heart drop. I know I talk shit about my dad, but he’s the one I’ve craved the love from. A daughter always wants to have her father hug and kiss on her and tell her how beautiful she is without feeling weird. 
Despite everything, I still love him. The truth is though… I can’t be around him. I love him better from a distance because he hurts me so bad. I’m not capable of having a healthy relationship with someone that is kind one minute and cussing me out and callin me a bitch the next. 

So as for right now… There is no relationship. I just dream about my dad taking care of his issues so he can be there when I have kids. If not, oh well. My Health and sanity is more important that satisfying his craving for starting shit.  –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Suicidal?

Suicidal?

Suicide. It’s something I’ve thought about in the past. No one knew. I keep a smile. I stay strong for everyone. I let everyone see the strong girl who’s been though hell. I’ve kept what I’ve been though to myself. Why should I say anything? Who cares? I see how the world works. I see how there are more takers than givers. People act like they are slow sometimes and purposely overlook the obvious.

Sitting here asking God to please help me not to cry.

Am I this horrible of a person? Why don’t I get any support? Does anyone think about me? Does my mom think about me? Does my dad?  Yeah Right

Too late… Crying at work..

It can only get better right?