Dad,

Thank you. Thanks for making me feel like I have done something wrong. Thank you for making me feel like I am not enough for you. Thank you for only missing me when it is 11:30 p.m. and you have nothing better to do.

I was only your daughter when I was planning on going to nursing school. I was only your daughter when you could show everyone at the office a video of me doing five backflips in a row. I was only your daughter when you felt like claiming something. Now that I want to be a teacher, I'm not good enough for you. Now that I have stress fractures in my back and can no longer show off the sport that I loved, I am nothing to you. Sometimes I find myself wishing you could be nothing to me.

I hate that I have a soft spot for you. I want to have no feelings for you, but how can I accomplish this when you are supposed to be my dad. Don't you see I am your daughter? I never had the opportunity to be a "daddy's girl" because you took that away from me when you came home too drunk to realize you were yelling at me for no reason. Trust me, I tried my very best to love you with all that I have. 8-year-old-me ran into your arms only for you to drop me in the driveway because you had so much alcohol in your system that you could hardly hold yourself up. Oh, my bad, that didn't actually happen because you don't remember it. I wish that I had the opportunity to not remember all the things you have said to me. Only you have the pleasure of completely forgetting the strangling words that come out of your mouth.

Dad, what happened to all the tears we shed together that Wednesday night? You promised me that you would give it up because you didn't want to loose me. We poured out all of the alcohol you had hidden. We were happy, but why couldn't that last? All of the smiles and promises went to shreds because we had to get away from you. We were terrified in our own home because of all the drunken anger you would bring in from the bar. But even then, as papers were served to you, even when you knew you had one last chance you chose to leave me instead of love me.

Thank you, seriously. Now I know how not to treat my children. Now I know why not to be intoxicated. I have witnessed first-hand how easily alcohol can tear a family apart. Let me tell you, the bad truly does outweigh the good when it comes to my memories of you. I am sad to say that when your name comes to mind I picture a man towering over me as he throws loud violent words at my face, all of which are strategically being used to kick me while I am down and bring tears to my eyes.

Now I know how to love. I know to always watch what comes out of my mouth because words matter and affect people dramatically when said by people near and dear to them. Now, because of you, I am close to my family in a way I never could have dreamed. When we all went through the abuse and had to be there for each other and I watched you yell these things at my sister and mother while they could just sit there and take it, that made us stronger and closer.

And again, I thank you. Thank you so much for treating me this way. If not for the mental abuse, I would have never run into Jesus' arms. When you didn't come home for months because you didn't want to see my mother, you also didn't see me. While that hurt me more than you know, I found comfort in the fact that my heavenly Father is always dependable, no matter what. While I will never understand how you could treat me this way and not see how bad it hurt me, or maybe you saw it you just didn't care, I have learned that I have a good good Father and He brings me peace and joy when all I can think about is how badly I want a relationship with my earthly father. So, thank you for giving me no other option but to run to Jesus.

I would give you this letter but you only call me ridiculous and go about living your life amongst the neon lights.

If you could put the beer down long enough to care about me, that would be great.