Wow, just when I think Salon readers can't get any meaner...

I've been on both sides of this equation. My father's not the worst guy in the world but shortly after my mother died he took off overseas with work (always a workoholic) and left me (just 18) in charge of my two sisters (15 and 12). The extent of my "parenting" arsenal at that time was a credit card, a drawer full of cash and reasonable cooking skills. Somehow I held it together, got their laundry done, got them to school each day (yes, we all went to private schools - shoot us!). Then he got married again. New wife didn't like us at all (she had two kids of her own) and referred to us as spoiled bitches. I moved out immediately and my sisters joined me pretty much the day they finished high school. Was I, am I, resentful to both my father and this woman for total alienation of affection? You bet. He certainly wasn't putting his children's needs first. Finally got rid of wife No. 2 and moved onto No. 3. Pretended like No. 2 never happened (10 years of hell). No. 3 is better but again, she comes first. Not his kids. Of course, we're all grown up now and as an adult I can see that he was just a fucked up guy who didn't know how to deal with the death of a spouse and bring up kids alone (he worked, my mum took care of house and kids). We don't have an ideal relationship today, but I don't have many expectations of him either.

No big surprise, I don't want kids of my own. Did date a guy with 2 kids for a while but realised that I would never love them and that the thought of living with them (every second weekend) made my skin crawl (again, shoot me, I have never claimed to be perfect) and so I got out of there before I did any damage. I beat myself up a lot about not being a "good" enough person to love these kids but ultimately realised that it just wasn't for me.

I sympathise with the LW but would suggest leaving before it gets worse. As for the teenager - we all go through shit. I'm sure she'll survive. Most of us do.

I got sober just over 6 years ago. Sometimes I worry that I'm "boring". But then I remember that now I'm actually engaged with life rather than making snide, drunken comments from the sidelines. These days people remember me because I'm funny, or kind, or interesting - not because I punched them in a drunken blackout. When I stopped drinking one of my friends had a similar response and told me that she hoped I'd start again soon. We're not friends anymore. And the people who are my friends know that the "boring" me is happier and healthier than the old me ever was. And I don't think I was having that much fun anyway. It was all a drunken hallucination.