Sometimes with family members, you just have to walk away…

It’s painful, but sometimes it’s the best thing.

The guy who wrote this story on Reddit reached the end of his rope and finally decided to end his relationship with his abusive father.

Read on and see what you think.

Treat me like a doormat? Now you won’t need one.

“My father is a downright disgusting person and always has been.

He’s emotionally abusive and has, on a handful of occasions, crossed the line into physically abuse against me, my mother, and my sisters as well.

The way he treats people has left him with very little family that will even give him the time of day and no friends to speak of.

This guy is a piece of work…

I can’t understand the thought process that goes on in his mind but somehow he’s even managed to perform the mental gymnastics needed to convince himself that everyone else around him is unreasonable.

That his terrible circumstances in life are the fault of everyone but himself (quite the feat for a man who is easily 200 lbs overweight.)

He’s also self employed and would only ever work exactly enough hours to barely scrape by with just enough money left over to afford alcohol, (which he refuses to cut down on despite having a clear drinking problem.)

Essentially he lives month-to-month despite not having to and has a pretty clear track record of being reckless with his money.

This is important later, I promise.

My revenge comes in two different flavours; passive aggressive vanilla and You Suck chocolate.

The vanilla revenge first.

A little over two years ago I worked for a company that went into administration and shut down unexpectedly.

During that time I was still living with my father and paying the brunt of our household bills.

I actually wasn’t too badly affected by the company shutting down.

An effort to start earning extra money to put down a deposit on a place of my own far away from this sad excuse for a human being was well on its way.

I’d been putting my art school training to good use and was taking on commission work in the evenings after coming home from my 9 to 5.

I’d cultivated a pretty sizeable following by the time I lost my day job and had a pool of regular clients who paid reasonably well.

The extra forty hours a week to work on these projects actually meant I was just about breaking even with the money I used to make at my old job.

If not actually coming out somewhat ahead, but my father didn’t know that.

He made it very clear what he thought about my attending art school while I was there so I refused to even utter a breath about it from that point onwards.

Begin stage one.

His dad thought he knew everything…

My father finds out that my company liquidated and before I can tell him not to worry and that I can still cover my end of the bills.

He tells me to sign up for benefits so I can continue paying some sort of reduced rent to him and in that moment a rather evil idea takes root in my mind.

I pretend to agree with him and nod along continuing to keep my side job a secret for almost a year while keeping up this charade of being on benefits.

I watch him struggle more and more to keep up with rent payments as time goes on, due exclusively to his refusal to simply work more than 20 hours a week.

He’s keeping himself above water at this point but only barely and he knows that he can’t reasonably expect more money from me as I am after all “unemployed” and struggling to find work.

At first this is satisfying and my deposit money grows faster now that I’m not paying him close to as much as I was before for the privilege of being his personal doormat.

I am screwing him over, but he doesn’t actually know it.

Not yet anyway.

Begin phase two. You Suck chocolate.

Almost a year to the day into my “unemployment” I suddenly land a new and better paying job than my old one.

Which is actually just me going out into a coffee shop for 8 hours each day with my cintique companion to work there instead of at home.

Somehow me having a $2000 tablet that I didn’t have a few months ago didn’t tip him off that I was lying to his face.

He never was very bright.

I’ve now got my full deposit saved with spare change for some basic furniture and I start hunting for an apartment.

The plan was taking shape…

I find one, sort out all of the paperwork, put down a deposit and begin prepping the place for a quick getaway.

In the three months that follow I start paying the lions share of the rent again and in fact cover ALL of our expenses except for his food and alcohol.

I reason to him that since he supported me for so long it’s only fair for me to make it up by paying more now.

He beams happily when I say that and his abuse of me actually stops for a couple of days.

I’m out of pocket quite a bit for this plan to work, but I keep telling myself it’ll all be worth it.

My revenge was almost abandoned on several occasions, the whole time I was staying there after getting my apartment set up he was still being disrespectful; treating me less like a person and more like something unpleasant he stepped in.

I almost just left multiple times, knowing that I had somewhere better to go at that point.

I stuck it out though, just long enough for him to become dependant on the money I was giving him.

This guy was a real bum.

He’s going to work less and less often at this point, getting comfortable with the routine of me just having the money there, ready and waiting for him when he asks me for it.

On the third month I finally strike while the iron is hot.

He asks me for the money the day before our rent and other bills are due out of his account.

He intended to go out to deposit everything for payment that morning, and with a feeling of utter satisfaction I haven’t experienced before or since I simply plaster a big smile on my face and say “Sorry. No can do. I don’t live here anymore”.

I wish I had a longer exchange to give you guys here, but I really don’t.

My plan from the beginning had always been to simply walk out at the last second leaving him high and dry and that’s exactly what I did.

Goodbye!

He did manage to yell at me to tell me to stop being a jerk and give him his money because he needed it “right now” to which I responded “Well, that’s a bummer” as I walked out the front door and out of his life.

He didn’t follow me, make a scene or anything like that, (as much as I wish he had).

I just headed to the train station, went to my new apartment, and settled in for my first night of genuine freedom in years.

I don’t know what happened to him after that and honestly I don’t really care.

It’s been about nine months and I know he lost the house, but other than that I can’t say what happened.

Honestly, I hope he’s rotting in a ditch somewhere.

Moral of the story: Don’t treat me and my family like garbage for years and then hurt my cat, expecting to get away with it scot-free.”

Here’s what folks had to say on Reddit.

This reader chimed in.

Another person shared their thoughts.

This individual shared their thoughts.

Family ties can only take you so far…

And when you’ve got a parent like this, there’s no point in thinking they’re going to change.

If you liked that post, check out this story about a customer who insists that their credit card works, and finds out that isn’t the case.