I got home from Arizona today. The whole time I was there was one huge fight. Every time I tried to have my own opinion or voice, my father would scream at me and call me names.

We got in an extra bad fight two nights before I left and he said such awful things to me that I can't even repeat them. I finally got fed up and started yelling back. I said one thing I am not proud of, but after all that he said to me... He deserved it. Finally. he got so angry he left the house. My grandmother came to the living room to see if I was okay... And I wasn't. I was on the verge of overdosing. I was sobbing, my father really does hate me. He said he couldn't wait until I left and that it sucks that I had no place to stay until then.

But, I owe my grandmother my life, more than once. When I used to live with her and my father in AZ, she would almost always come and comfort me when he'd be a bastard for no reason.

I really felt so hopeless. He didn't even want to drive three hours to take me to the airport, he paid for a shuttle. He also refused to pay for my baggage so my grandmother was forced to help me.

That night, after I cried so hard I thought I was going to pass out, she told me to take a shower and come to talk to her afterwards. I did. If it weren't for her and my few amazing friends, I don't know if I would have made it back from Arizona alive. It truly was that awful.

I feel much better now that I am home, but the pain is still digging into my soul. Some things just can't be unsaid. I am very glad I have therapy tomorrow. I am not going to like rehashing the fight that I will have repressed until tomorrow. I surely can't cope with it on my own.

Yesterday was most likely the last time I will ever see my grandmother, unless she comes to visit me. I cannot- WILL not- take that sort of mental abuse ever again in my life.

I was finally building up courage and self-esteem, but that's all be shattered like a pane of thin glass.