Oh… I'm so tired… When can I truly say goodbye to my family of origin? Every time they ask me for money, I can't bear it. Thinking about how they raised me from childhood, I hate myself as I transfer the money. But my childhood wasn't happy either. The memories I can recall now are of my father stabbing me with a knife and my mother holding him back, or my father staying home to gamble, or my mother being abused and me running to a neighbor's door and knocking for help. I hate them, and I hate myself.