I don't hate myself. I hate THEM.

Everything I am feeling is because of them. They did it on purpose, they were able to control what they said and did, and they were grown adults for the entire time they abused me. The responsibility is entirely on THEM for traumatizing me. There was nothing wrong with me. I was just a normal kid. I'm no contact now and am feeling the rage in the direction it belongs: right at them. No more hating myself and beating myself up--it was THEIR FAULT.

From the moment I was born to the last time I was ever forced to be within 10 feet of them, they were always the same cowardly, pathetic, jealous, hateful losers who failed at everything in their life and took it out on their own son. They're less than insects to me. Maybe that's what it means to move on--seeing them for the pathetic losers they are. I deserve love and they denied every chance I had at it, while never having the guts to own up to it. I'm not the little 5-year-old boy they could beat whenever they, as fully grown adults, had one of their pathetic tantrums. They are nothing and will always be that way. Good riddens.