I am now 24 years old. I have a job and could find another one if needed. I have my own home and many houses all over France where I would be received as if it was my home. I have many friends and even more pals. My family will always be there for me, even if we don't see each other very often. I could be happy.

In spite of all that, yesterday, evening, I broke down and cried like a fountain on my boyfriend's lap. Why? I don't really know yet. Perhaps writing this will help me find out.

I think it comes from several things. Yesterday, I had an oral examination in computer science. I can't stand this kind of exams. I become anxious one or two hour before and the wole length of the exam. I shake, I get cold sweats and shivers. And that's what happened to me yesterday. By itself, it isn't even worth mentioning. Actually, it is just the small push that got me over the edge.

In fact, what bothers me is this : Three times this last month, I was awaken in the middle of the night by a nightmare. Last time, I even woke my boyfriend up so that he could calm me down. It was not exactly the same nightmare each time, but the end is the same : my father is shouting at me. I have once again disappointed him, or done something wrong and he let loose all his anger toward me.

To understand, you have to know this : My father is a small man with a big mouth. Never anger him! Ever! Once he starts to yell, everyone in the vicinity starts to fear and goes hiding. Even animals. The only person I ever saw who could stand and fight him is my mother. She can shout as hard as him and do so occasionally. In fact, even if I am now a full grown man, I am still afraid of him. I know I should speak to him about my life, explain him who I am, what I am, how happy I am. I want to, but I can't. Every time I could do it, I don't. Because I fear him and his reactions.

We can't go on with this kind of relation. We'll have to do something about it. But I don't know what or how.

Yesterday evening, I called my half-sister. After all, we share the same father. I asked her if she still feared him. She told me no. But she reminded me that she lived with him only till she was seven. After that, she only saw him on week-ends, every two weeks. Of course, she also told me that I could call her any time I needed to speak, even during the night.

As for me, I have lived with him for 22 years. I fear him, I fear his anger. Because of him, I can't have a confrontation with anybody. I prefer to go away and let it lie than stay and shout. I can't pick up a fight. I'm the calm one. But I fear...

As far as I know, my parents don't read this blog. They don't even know it exists. Perhaps I am wrong and they read everything I write. But I don't think so. And I intend it to stay this way. For now.

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