but honestly, i'm pretty sure that most people have no idea.

I'm pretty much still in a vague haze of shock.

I am trying my hardest to keep working. Keep my mind forward, chin up. Try not to think about my horrible father.

Who the hell does he think he is? What gives him the right to take my mother away from us?

I'm stuck in a guilt loop - because I think I wish he would kill himself. Not touch my family, just ... end it. How can I ever look at him the same way again with these thoughts running through his head? Go the hell away, Dad, if this life is so horrible and unfulfilling for you. I'll regret thinking this, regret saying this, for the rest of my life, but dammit, keep your hands off of the rest of us.

I dread the phone call.

"Is this Athena? I'm sorry, but your father..."

Is this phone call in my goddamned future? Why must I sit here and wait?

I want to scream. I want to kickbox everyone I see. I am going to punch and kick and scream and take out my agression on this world that seems to relish the act of pinning me down and forcing me to watch my helpless family in some kind of macabre dance with death.

But I can't go out there. No, it would put me in danger. If my father is armed I don't even wanna be in the same country. But... I can't help them.

At least no one is telling me "it'll be ok." Because FINALLY people understand that this does NOT happen every day, my family's lives and perhaps even mine are in danger and it's not just the same damned fucking problem that every family has.

And it just might not be OK.

There's so much pain in those moments that I allow myself to think the worst, despite my best efforts.

I do not want my family to be the next story on the 6 o'clock news.

I do not want my family to be the next freak show out of the horribly disturbed town of [town removed].

But I don't want to cry anymore, and I don't want to fear anymore. And frankly, we will always fear and always cry as long as he is in our lives.

But we'll cry if he leaves, too, because we loved him. Even if he did hate his life, even if he resented us.

We love him, but we can't do this anymore.

Part of me feels like Dad is already dead.

And the other part knows that it is only a matter of time.

God, please... just don't let him take us with him.