No...You Think, Alec Baldwin?

Blaming other people for your verbal and other abuse only damages your daughter more, by the way:

"'It’s thrown in your face every day. There are people who admonish me, or attack me, and use that as a constant spearhead to do that. It’s a scab that never heals cause it’s being picked at all the time by other people. My daughter, that’s hurt her in a permanent way.'”

Of course verbal-abuse and other-abuse survivors (and others whom were affected, such as primary and secondary witnesses) never forget—we may forgive, though it may take a long time and we may relapse into unforgiveness; and we may not hold grudges (which is what "forgive and forget" really means*, although part of relapsing into unforgiveness includes relapsing into holding grudges); but what we won't forget, even when specific instances are far enough in the back of our minds, in our subconsciouses, or repressed altogether and in the inaccessible parts of our memories.


*It's as when God says that He'll "remember [our] sins no more" and that love "keeps no record of wrongs"—in other words, He won't hold what we did against us; but He doesn't forget what we did.

In Spite Of That Certain People Have Hurt Me, And Because Other Certain People Have Hurt Me...

I think about quite a few of them from time to time, sometimes even often or every day. To some of them, I'd say, "I hate you" or "I hate you, too"—that's how much they hurt me. Not that I was always right—still, a spirit of unforgiveness and hypocrisy hurts; and some would say that I'm being a hypocrite, although my "I hate you"s are quite honestly a way to numb the pain from how they hurt me.

By the way, I told a former Chapelgate member that I'd not name other incidents because I'd made my point. However, I will name one other incident since Anti Semite Donald Trump seems to be on track to winning the U.S. Presidency; and the incident is even more unfunny now:

When I was a student at Chapelgate, I took Mrs. Bonnell's drama class. One of my fellow students (whom I will not name)—whom, by the way, is Jewish him- or her-self—thought funny to give a Nazi salute as apparent satire at the end of his skit during one of the class meetings. When I confronted Mrs. Bonnell about finding it funny, she told me, "I don't see Jesus in you"—and she left me in tears for it.

At the time, I was suspecting that I am Jewish; and before that—during the fallout of 9/11 and when I was learning about the Holocaust—my OCD/Anxiety set off, and partly because (though I didn't know it at the time) God was telling me that I am a Jew whom lost relatives in the Holocaust (Sometimes, one doesn't know what the Holy Spirit was doing until he or she looks back.). Later, she accused me of calling another student a Marxist—which I never did—in her "apology" non apology—someone else had jokingly called her that, and she thought that I did. By the way, why would I call someone whom I didn't even know well a political disciple of a self-hating-Jewish man whom stated, for example, the following?

We recognize in Judaism, therefore, a general anti-social element of the present time, an element which through historical development – to which in this harmful respect the Jews have zealously contributed – has been brought to its present high level, at which it must necessarily begin to disintegrate.

In the final analysis, the emancipation of the Jews is the emancipation of mankind from Judaism.

The Jew has already emancipated himself in a Jewish way.

“The Jew, who in Vienna, for example, is only tolerated, determines the fate of the whole Empire by his financial power. The Jew, who may have no rights in the smallest German state, decides the fate of Europe. While corporations and guilds refuse to admit Jews, or have not yet adopted a favorable attitude towards them, the audacity of industry mocks at the obstinacy of the material institutions.” (Bruno Bauer, The Jewish Question, p. 114)

As for an example of when I think about certain people in spite of that they've hurt me, I continue to think about (at least whom I thought was) a dear friend, father figure, and writing mentor (whose self estrangement from me still baffles me in many ways—as I've written, that estrangement threw me into a Depression flareup that is still ongoing in quite a few ways, especially as I await an update about the publication status of my second book.). 

As I've stated before, I also think about those whom've hurt me with a spirit of unforgiveness and hypocrisy—and when I didn't even do wrong to them, despite that I might've or did hurt their loved ones—and when I've made amends to those whom I've hurt.

Some—maybe even you—will have read all of this and nonetheless wonder why I think about the people whom've hurt me, and why I sometimes numb the pain with an "I hate you" or "I hate you, too" in my thoughts toward some of them—and especially when I've never forgotten what they said and/or did, let alone how they made and make me feel to this day.