My father was a profoundly complicated man. Fiercely intelligent. Deeply haunted. He carried a lot of pain & he inflicted pain on others. His violent and terrifying alcoholism and other addictions rent the fabric of my childhood and teenage years. And yet, of course, I loved him.
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I spent all my life forgiving my dad's behavior or rationalizing it and everything. I guess I'm trying out anger for a while. I think I need to for a bit.
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