To preface this, I believe my father is a narcissist. Growing up, he’d have rage tantrums and would physically hit me when I was only around 8 or 9 years old. We used to get along, but at some point, he became the person I hate most in life—honestly, the only person I truly hate. He has physically and mentally abused me, telling me I’m a failure who will never achieve anything. On our drives to school, he’d constantly remind me that I will be the reason my mom dies (she has a chronic illness), due to whatever my young self did back then (I wasn’t a problem child at that point, yet).

Although we have a house, he never really provided for me. Everything I received was from my mom. He also made me feel guilty, claiming she couldn’t buy nice things for herself because of me. He’d say we couldn’t afford my education (even though my mom paid) and tell me I shouldn’t go to my school. Growing up in a society that was mostly middle- to upper-class, I felt deep shame and embarrassment because of how out of place he made me feel. He never cared about our family’s image or reputation. For instance, when my mom’s car was falling apart, he refused to buy her a replacement, well, in classic narcissist fashion, he told her “okay, but I really wanr a newer truck for myself, I’ve been wanting it fir a whils, etc” she caved of course. This lack of concern for how we appeared to others, and the way he presented himself as a 50 year old teenager, always embarrassed me. Especially given that he hit me for not wearing a hijab and “embarrassing” him.

When I turned 18, he told me that I should bother to learn how to drive, claiming no one would pay for it and yelling repeatedly about the subject, despite my mom agreeing to get me one (I didn’t even ask him for help, he never helped me ever so I truly never ask him for things, not even food). I’ve tried to figure out why he treated me this way and came to suspect that because he quit his job when I was young, his own ego or sense of masculinity was threatened, and somehow, he took that out on me. I grew up internalizing the message that I was undeserving of even basic things— and needs, as you’ll see below.

As a teenager, I started fighting back, but my family alienated me for it, except for one of my brothers. I felt unsafe and isolated. My mom sometimes defended me, yet she would later insist on “fixing” my relationship with my father. I told her repeatedly I can’t see him as a father figure, that I hate the man, and that I didn’t want him in my life. There was a point in my late teens when I felt so trapped and hopeless that I attempted suicide. Afterward, I began to piece my life together again, slowly.

Recently, my bathroom broke down, and for over 4 months I’d been telling him it needed fixing. It finally stopped working completely, and I had no choice but to use his and my mom’s shower. Because I get home from work around 8:00 p.m., I prefer to shower in the morning. My mom and I had an understanding that this was fine. However, yesterday, my father threw a tantrum about me showering in the mornings. He demanded that I stop, and when I tried to explain my situation, he spat on me. That triggered all the old memories of physical and mental abuse. I cursed at him, and my other brother stepped in to “put me in my place,” which caused me to lose it even more. I felt like a 10 yo child being physically abused and blamed for it all over again.

In the aftermath, I broke down, yelling at everyone and hitting my brother while he offered one of his usual, performative apologies in front of my mom. I finally blurted out a lot of my pent-up resentment. My other brother later tried to talk to me, and we ended up having a decent conversation. Still, I feel terrible for my mother. She deals with him constantly, and I suspect she struggles with undiagnosed depression. She doesn’t like me much, or at least that’s how it seems, and I’ve tried to help her without success. It’s hard to keep feeling guilty for someone who doesn’t want my help and never wanted me around in the first place.

On the surface, this all might sound trivial, like I’m overly sensitive or overreacting as I’ve been told multiple times, but it’s rooted in a lifetime of shame, guilt, and anger. My father’s behavior is a major trigger for me, especially since he hasn’t changed at all. I can’t just forgive and move on when he’s still exactly the same person who hurt me repeatedly in the past.

I feel so bad for mom and I feel like the worst daughter ever but I truly am at a lost cause here. AITAH for losing my mind?