I hate my father. I also hate my mother, but not as much as I hate my father.

Father had a harsh childhood. His mother (my granny) was a minor and his father (my grandfather) died when he was very young. They didn't have a lot of money and Father had to work multiple jobs at once to support them. Those experiences left him traumatized, yet the degree of which his actions have progressed is dangerous.

Father and Mother are from different countries, so there is a lot of issues with diverse views on how to raise children. My parents had 3 sons, one older than me and one younger than me. When my big brother was a child, my father was mostly overseas for work and he was raised mostly by Mother's parents. Obviously, being raised in a different culture brought many hardships. Mother's parents were extremely overprotective and nurturing, while Father thought that a child could do whatever an adult can, probably as he had to endure much himself. Even when my big brother was only one year old, my father would beat the living crap out of him because he was unable to read a map. The physical abuse my big brother had to endure up until his adolescence was horrifying. Many times I thought that Father was going to kill him. I too had suffered the abuse when I was in elementary school. Being strangled by him, hit with a belt, having shoes thrown at me, or just straight up being punched. I had to experience all of those.

I have Aspergers Syndrome, which is a autism spectrum disorder, and I'm gay. That meant that I had extraordinary amounts of bullying at school. Being called retarded, being called a girl, people were even calling me a murderer for no reason. I was going through hell and I remember when I had problems with my classmates or was called to the principles office, Father would be in an especially bad mood and hit me. I remember one time when I could not stand his abuse anymore, I told him that I'd go to the police. That was when he abused me horribly. He pushed the table between us aside, through me on the couch, held me down, sat on me and chocked me so much I could not breathe. I still remember his words: "Listen asshole! We are a family! And a family always holds together!" I wondered how he dared to utter those words. I'm sure you can imagine how an elementary school child must have felt with a 100 kg man (220 lbs) sitting on top of him. Mother was watching, yet didn't do anything about it. She was probably scared.

That went on for a long time. I had problems at school, so much so that I changed often, and at home my father would be screaming and shattering the furniture. Eventually, I became a teenager and he could not abuse me as much, he seemed to have calmed down. I thought maybe things would change for the better but they didn't. When I first understood a few things about politics, I quickly realized that my father was and still is to this day alt-right. By alt-right I don't mean your average trump supporter. He is a hardcore nationalist, who thinks foreigners take his money. He believes that people of colour have inherently lower IQ than white people. He believes transgender people are just spreading propaganda to "destroy the family". He always tells me I should be grateful that he "is extremely open-minded and tolerant" because he says that other fathers kick their child out or bring them to priest to exorcise the gay away. Mother comes from a much more homophobic country, so I had a lot of difficulties with her too. Accepting myself was a long journey.

My father still raises his voice a lot. He tries to show that he is "the man of the house" by occasionally punching my little brother. My big brother turned out to be a pretty bad person (nowhere near as bad as Father) and Father always tells me how he needed to punch him more, because he was too soft on him. That is ludicrous, especially considering how many near-death experiences my big brother had. Father lately just watches TV all day, even 10 hours without pause and with the slightest sound he starts screaming because he missed like one word that was being said. He also pushes me to associate with people I don't want to and criticizes the appearance of my friends. He also said that I should know that nothing I have now belongs to me and everything I have belongs to him. That is his was of threatening me. My Mother admitted multiple times that Father is capable of murdering me.

Father also thinks that I am worth less, because I am single. He thinks that I have nothing other than men on my mind. He thinks that being gay comes with an inherent urge to think of nothing else, as well as a higher libido. He even said that he thinks I'd use another man's body without his consent, which I'd obviously never do. He also shows me Alt-right articles the whole time, some of which are about how the alt-right supposedly supports gay rights, as long as the gays don't support trans rights, act straight, never tell anyone and aren't allowed to adopt or marry.

As things have been rough with my mother and at school, Father told me that my granny (his mother) invited me to live with her should I want it. I would live in another country and I'd be far away from my parents so I obviously was interested. It turned out however that it was all a trick, in order for me to to think about moving away so that I he could get me to go to an asylum in a small evangelical town, and finish at a school run by a monastery there. When I went to Father's homecountry he told me I should stay all summer in order to get social security for having Aspergers and that I needed to go to the asylum to get a diagnosis in that country as well (I only had one from Mother's country) and maybe stay for 2 weeks to relax. In truth however, when I actually visited the asylum, they told me that my father never mentioned getting another diagnosis and only talked about me living at the asylum and going to school there at the monastery. I was enraged as I learnt that he had been lying to me for months, yet both granny and Mother supported Father, claiming he only wants the best for me. They all wanted me to stay all summer, yet I return to Mother's country with more hate for my father.

Mother is a useless bitch, who thinks she does everything and that she and Father are great parents because they pay for private school and therapy. And don't get me wrong, I am thankful that I had the opportunity to go to private school, especially since public schools are terrible in the country I'm living in. But my parents expect therapy to "fix" me, as if I was broken. They say that they are great parents and all the bad stuff they do is because I am autistic or because I'm gay or because I'm ungrateful, and as such, push them past their limit.

I'm gonna be honest. I hope my father goes away from my life. I don't care how. Even if he dies, I'd be happy. I don't want revenge or anything like that. I just want to be away from him. From Mother too, as she never protected me from Father. Sadly, I still have to live with both of them, but I'll try to move away as soon as possible. It is tough but I'll try to manage.

Thank you for reading this far and I hope you all are well!