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I tried my best.

My father still drinks. He doesn't care anymore. It's just him and that poison he loves so much. Is it going to end in divorce? stressed

I don't know. I want to say that I don't care.

But I can't. It's so unfair. I try and distance myself from them, and yet they're always pulling me in opposite directions. What about my opinons? Don't they matter anymore? One minute I love them, the next I want to kill them in their sleep.

But I have to keep going: I have a wonderful girl waiting for me at the end of this hell. And when she and I are happily married, I'll ditch the Pietrusza name, and this whole nightmare will be a funny little footnote. She and I will be happy, and our children will never know about Grandma and Grandpa Pietrusza. They'll never see my children. We won't even attend my parents funeral.

I renounce my family name. I don't want to be a Pietrusza anymore. I don't want Erin to be Erin Pietrusza, and I don't want our children to answer to Pietrusza.