My bright idea....
I think I've finally figured out how to overcome my dad's abuse. I guess something just snapped in my mind to make me realize that the only power he has over me is fear. If I'm not afraid, and I let him know that, he seems to fidget. When he can no longer threaten me, he's lost all his power. Maybe I knew this for a long time. But he use to threaten me with money. Now and again he would threaten me with a place to live and food. But since we got this truck with Dale, it's been only a week and he has already played his hand. He's threatened to take the truck and cost Dale his job. This is typical. Dale and I discussed this long before a deal was struck. We decided that if he did somehow manage to rip the truck out from under us, Dale would use my car and we would leave as soon as possible. But, that may not be necessary. You see, Dad wanted the truck put in my name because he believed that the first chance Dale got, he would leave me and take the truck. Well, that's what he claims. But I think the truth is he didn't want the IRS to take the truck.
Well, we just got into a screaming match. Dad decided to start saying cruel things about me to my brother,... yes, ... right in front of me. Most of it twisted and distorted truths or just fiction altogether. He told James that I had suggested that Dad sell James' truck. Which is only half truth. The real truth is, dad was complaining about James' truck being on a bank loan, and that he needed to pay it off. Now, James has complained to me time and again that the truck sucks up way too much gas. To the point that it was nearly costing him more than he was making at work. He's told me several times that he would much rather have a smaller, gas-efficient car. He doesn't even like trucks. Dad put it across to him like I was suggesting that he not have a vehicle. But that's not what I was saying and he knows it. What more,... James knows it too.
So, dad started calling me every name in the book and when I challenged him, he decided to take Dale's truck and, once again, kick us out. To which I replied,... "no. I'm not leaving, and you're not taking Dale's truck."
This is pretty out of character for me, because normally, I would crack and cry and beg and plead. Just what he likes for me to do. But not this time, ladies and gentlemen. No. I gave him a big "fuck you". I think he was a little surprised at this, again, because this was a far cry from my typical reaction. Normally, at the mention of getting kicked out, I would be bawling my way to my bedroom and unpacking my closet. But fuck this. I'm not doing it anymore, and I fucking let him know it. It felt good to scream at him at the top of my lungs how much I HATED what he was doing to me. I screamed how much I was tired of crying and begging and getting squished under his stupid fucking boots. And I ever so heatedly mentioned, that there was no way in hell he was taking back the truck,... since it's in my name.
Yes, shameful, I know. And truthfully, I don't have any intentions of simply taking the truck and not paying for it. Dale and I had every intention of paying him the 450 per month. I can't say that I feel that way now,.. but that's just because I'm still extremely angry about his threats.
It was kinda funny to watch him blow a fuse. It was nice to finally not be the one crying and whimpering and begging. Not that I want him to beg,.. I just want him to know that I'm not going to fucking do it anymore.
Because dad has this fucked up notion in his head that he can treat his children any way he wants, and we are simply to take it. We can't defend ourselves. We are worth only what HE SAYS we are worth. If he believes Dale is a piece of shit, that is how he treats Dale and there is nothing I can do about it. Well fuck that. NO. You WONT be doing that to my husband. I don't give a flying fuck if he believes in us anymore. It use to mean so much to me that he did, but ya know what? FUCK HIM.
Gina was right,... he'll die a lonely old man one day, and there will be NO ONE at his funeral. Well,.. not FAMILY anyway, since he treated us all like shit. I predict that the majority of the people that will be at his funeral will be business partners and friends.
He treats BOTH of them with the love and respect that his family could only dream of.
*sigh* I haven't lost my temper like that in a long time. But ya know? It felt good to finally tell him to go to hell. It felt good to kick him in the god-damn teeth the way he does me.
He threatened to call the cops and have me put in jail, and that's fine. I don't give a fuck. And I told him so. He can't hurt me anymore because he means nothing to me. And even if he does call the cops,.. I won't be there long. Unlike him. If he goes to jail for tax evasion... he'll die there. There's a happy thought. But, like I said, I'm sick of threats. If he wants to make threats, I'll make 'em right back. What the fuck do I have to lose? I mean shit. He keeps taking everything from me anyway, so what the hell does it matter? He ruined my credit when I was 18. He's cost me countless jobs. He's repeatedly threatened to kick me out, take my car, deprive me of money and food and a place to sleep, etc. What the fuck do I have to lose now?
Yeah,.... nothing.
*smiles* I had to laugh about the cop thing. It would be a riot for them to come in and cuff me while I'm doing his god-damned dishes. =D