I'm angry and I don't care what you think about it

That's it. I said it.

I'm angry. And I don't care what you think about it. 

I'm angry that life has dealt me crappy cards over and over again. I'm angry that my father is dead, and that there's nothing I can do to change it. I'm angry that the court systems didn't protect me as a child, and that adults in my life who were supposed to look for me, didn't. 

But most of all...I'm angry at myself. For something seemingly stupid and slightly out of my control. I'm angry that I didn't go to Florida to be at the hospital when my father died. I'm angry that the last time I saw him was in an airport, and that the visit ended with me in tears and him falling apart. 

I'm straight pissed off that I can't forgive him. I'm pissed that I can't be the person I encourage others to be...full of forgiveness and love for those that hurt me. I can forgive a lot of people...but when it comes to my father, and his mother...I can't bring myself to forgive. 

I'm holding a grudge. And that seems so petty and stupid to me that it frustrates me to no end. I want to shake myself and tell myself to "grow up" because any sane adult would get over it. 

I want to forgive. Hell...and what I would do to forget.

But here I am. Holding a grudge. Remembering every day different horrible things that happened over the years. Good memories sometimes being replaced by a popup memory of something bad that happened right after the good. Here I am, not only not forgetting...but not forgiving.

There's where I'm torn. I have the right to feel however the hell I want to...and typically I encourage feeling however you want to. They're feelings...not things you can control. But this seems like one of those cases where I should be trying to move on...and trying to put those things behind me. For my own sanity and mental health, I should be slowly letting go of the past...and moving forward.

Maybe that's part of the anger. I know that in theory I should forgive, and I shouldn't let old memories drag me down. At the same time though...is that ever truly going to happen? Do we ever truly let go and forgive those that hurt us? Especially someone that hurt me for so long...and so badly. Someone that hurt my family too, and destroyed any sense of childhood I was supposed to have. Maybe that's why I can't forgive him...and why I won't ever forget. 

What he did...made me who I am.

Quite frankly...being mad about what he did...is what pushes me to make myself better. It prompted this post. It makes me want my degree more and more. It makes me want to be the best counselor I can be. It makes me more dedicated to bettering my life, Nick's life, and our children's lives. So in theory it's all leading to bigger and better things.

But damn am I frustrated right now.