I need help.
This isn't going to work out.
Haven't even been here a whole week, and already we had our first fight.
I don't want to move into this new house with my parents. This isn't going to work. I thought it would, but my dad is too much of a dick and I refuse to be bullied by him anymore.
I came back to find my room all torn up, things stuffed God only knows where. So I can't find anything because I don't know what my mom did with it.
All my stuff that I brought back from Florida was either stuffed into my car (and can I ever pack a tiny car, heh), or it is out in the big trailer. A lot of stuff that I needed, or that shouldn't sit outside in a trailer in this heat, was/is outside in that trailer.
So I'm going through some of it tonight, bringing in a whole bunch of stuff that I want, or need. Apparently this pisses my parents off. I got a nice little lecture - more like a screaming match, really, because nobody would let me explain my side (they never do). Why should they care what I do with my stuff? That's my folks for you. I really do believe now that part of the reason I went to Florida when I did was to get out from under their controlling thumbs. Particularly my dad's. He doesn't ask you. He tells you, and you better do it or he throws a temper tantrum and gets nasty and abusive (verbally, that is). Tonight he threatened to change the locks on that trailer if I bring in any more of my stuff. Next step would be to throw away my things - not specifically mentioned, but it was heavily implied.
Naturally my feelings don't count in all this. They never do.
Over the past 2 years I've come to the sad and disappointing realization that I really don't like my dad. I don't hate him, but I don't like him. When he's nice, he's okay, but his niceness tends to come with a price attached, an expectation of something in return besides thanks. When he's mean, he's a bully. I have serious trust and mental issues because of the way I grew up, always getting yelled at and browbeaten. I've had to come to the realization that my family doesn't get me and never will, and it's sort of mutual. I don't understand why my mom puts up with my dad's bullshit, but then, maybe he's bullied her too and she's just too tired to fight back. They damn near divorced five years ago because of my dad's attitude. At the time, it was messing me up, but now, I wonder if maybe she shouldn't have gone ahead with it. But it's moot now, and I've sort of gotten to the point where I just don't care anymore.
But I don't want to live WITH them. NEAR them, that's fine, that's what I missed when I was in Florida. But I did NOT miss my dad's bad temperament one little bit, and tonight I got that reminder.
I don't want to move into this new house with them. It's too small, we're going to be at each other's throats. Dad has forbidden me to put up any of my posters/pictures on the wall of what would be my room. "The tape will mess up the walls!" Fine, what the fuck ever. But if I go with them, I will probably be subject to bullshit like this, and it's going to drive me insane.
This isn't going to work. I have no hope or faith that it will. Too much has changed, for all of us.
If anyone out there would like someone to move in with them, with 3 cats and a whole bunch of stuff, let me know, and yes, I'm serious. I'm even starting to contemplate just packing what I can into my car and taking off when the time comes. This just isn't going to work, and I'm not going to waste my energy on a person who refuses to work with me, but rather expects me to roll over and obey. I don't play that way.
I'm tired of having to always live at my dad's whim. I was going to go to the Shedd Aquarium with my brother and SIL tomorrow, but because of my dad's tantrum tonight, I figure it would be best for me to stay home and try to clean out/up some of my stuff instead. Because I know that if I go - which I had really wanted to, in spite of my brother's anti-Obamaism, because how often do I get a chance to go to places like the Shedd? I've only ever been there once - I know that if I go, I'll get to hear my dad complain about me "running off and having fun." (I already had to hear a comment about my going to see Ayinsan yesterday. Wow, excuse me for wanting to see my best friend WHOM I HAVEN'T SEEN IN NEARLY TWO GODDAMN YEARS.)
One of the reasons I think about suicide so often is because I despair of ever being able to make it on my own, without any support from my parents. Even Florida was only possible because my dad could take care of the rent, while I took care of everything else (which is the reason I couldn't save any money while I was down there, and what little I did bring back is already half-gone: had to buy a new car license plate sticker since my old one expired right as soon as I came back, and that was $100). I can't get a well-paying job because of my mental and physical health issues and lack of skills, so I'm forever trapped at the low-end retail level. You can't live on retail, and fuck anybody who thinks you can (COUGHrepublicansCOUGH).
The thought of becoming homeless scares the shit out of me. As does the thought of having to spend my life stuck under the same roof as a couple of people who cannot or will not get along with me. That's slow(er) suicide, in a way. I had some chips for a snack earlier today - didn't even eat 'em all; in fact, I only ate a few because it was too hot and I'm more thirsty than anything - and my dad saw the plate and made a snarky comment about would I have enough room for dinner (I skipped it because I wasn't hungry and had a nap instead.) That's what he does. Can't control his own bad eating habits (which is why he has diabetes Type II), but he's got to rag on you for yours. It really is true, some people aren't happy unless they're making everybody else around them unhappy, and my dad's been doing that to me (and my mom) for too long. I'm sick of it.
I want something better.
Haven't even been here a whole week, and already we had our first fight.
I don't want to move into this new house with my parents. This isn't going to work. I thought it would, but my dad is too much of a dick and I refuse to be bullied by him anymore.
I came back to find my room all torn up, things stuffed God only knows where. So I can't find anything because I don't know what my mom did with it.
All my stuff that I brought back from Florida was either stuffed into my car (and can I ever pack a tiny car, heh), or it is out in the big trailer. A lot of stuff that I needed, or that shouldn't sit outside in a trailer in this heat, was/is outside in that trailer.
So I'm going through some of it tonight, bringing in a whole bunch of stuff that I want, or need. Apparently this pisses my parents off. I got a nice little lecture - more like a screaming match, really, because nobody would let me explain my side (they never do). Why should they care what I do with my stuff? That's my folks for you. I really do believe now that part of the reason I went to Florida when I did was to get out from under their controlling thumbs. Particularly my dad's. He doesn't ask you. He tells you, and you better do it or he throws a temper tantrum and gets nasty and abusive (verbally, that is). Tonight he threatened to change the locks on that trailer if I bring in any more of my stuff. Next step would be to throw away my things - not specifically mentioned, but it was heavily implied.
Naturally my feelings don't count in all this. They never do.
Over the past 2 years I've come to the sad and disappointing realization that I really don't like my dad. I don't hate him, but I don't like him. When he's nice, he's okay, but his niceness tends to come with a price attached, an expectation of something in return besides thanks. When he's mean, he's a bully. I have serious trust and mental issues because of the way I grew up, always getting yelled at and browbeaten. I've had to come to the realization that my family doesn't get me and never will, and it's sort of mutual. I don't understand why my mom puts up with my dad's bullshit, but then, maybe he's bullied her too and she's just too tired to fight back. They damn near divorced five years ago because of my dad's attitude. At the time, it was messing me up, but now, I wonder if maybe she shouldn't have gone ahead with it. But it's moot now, and I've sort of gotten to the point where I just don't care anymore.
But I don't want to live WITH them. NEAR them, that's fine, that's what I missed when I was in Florida. But I did NOT miss my dad's bad temperament one little bit, and tonight I got that reminder.
I don't want to move into this new house with them. It's too small, we're going to be at each other's throats. Dad has forbidden me to put up any of my posters/pictures on the wall of what would be my room. "The tape will mess up the walls!" Fine, what the fuck ever. But if I go with them, I will probably be subject to bullshit like this, and it's going to drive me insane.
This isn't going to work. I have no hope or faith that it will. Too much has changed, for all of us.
If anyone out there would like someone to move in with them, with 3 cats and a whole bunch of stuff, let me know, and yes, I'm serious. I'm even starting to contemplate just packing what I can into my car and taking off when the time comes. This just isn't going to work, and I'm not going to waste my energy on a person who refuses to work with me, but rather expects me to roll over and obey. I don't play that way.
I'm tired of having to always live at my dad's whim. I was going to go to the Shedd Aquarium with my brother and SIL tomorrow, but because of my dad's tantrum tonight, I figure it would be best for me to stay home and try to clean out/up some of my stuff instead. Because I know that if I go - which I had really wanted to, in spite of my brother's anti-Obamaism, because how often do I get a chance to go to places like the Shedd? I've only ever been there once - I know that if I go, I'll get to hear my dad complain about me "running off and having fun." (I already had to hear a comment about my going to see Ayinsan yesterday. Wow, excuse me for wanting to see my best friend WHOM I HAVEN'T SEEN IN NEARLY TWO GODDAMN YEARS.)
One of the reasons I think about suicide so often is because I despair of ever being able to make it on my own, without any support from my parents. Even Florida was only possible because my dad could take care of the rent, while I took care of everything else (which is the reason I couldn't save any money while I was down there, and what little I did bring back is already half-gone: had to buy a new car license plate sticker since my old one expired right as soon as I came back, and that was $100). I can't get a well-paying job because of my mental and physical health issues and lack of skills, so I'm forever trapped at the low-end retail level. You can't live on retail, and fuck anybody who thinks you can (COUGHrepublicansCOUGH).
The thought of becoming homeless scares the shit out of me. As does the thought of having to spend my life stuck under the same roof as a couple of people who cannot or will not get along with me. That's slow(er) suicide, in a way. I had some chips for a snack earlier today - didn't even eat 'em all; in fact, I only ate a few because it was too hot and I'm more thirsty than anything - and my dad saw the plate and made a snarky comment about would I have enough room for dinner (I skipped it because I wasn't hungry and had a nap instead.) That's what he does. Can't control his own bad eating habits (which is why he has diabetes Type II), but he's got to rag on you for yours. It really is true, some people aren't happy unless they're making everybody else around them unhappy, and my dad's been doing that to me (and my mom) for too long. I'm sick of it.
I want something better.