I can’t deal with my family sometimes and now is one of those times. I hate it when they tell me they’ll take me somewhere and then they leave without me. Or when they change their minds when they promised they’d do something for me. Or when my dad says he won’t do something because we didn’t plan it ahead. I really hate a lot about my dad. I don’t even feel like he really knows me. He only cares about the parts of me that fit into his little vision of what he wants me to be and anything else, he doesn’t see. He tells me what my priorities should be and anything that he doesn’t think is a priority for me, even if it’s the most important thing in my life to me, even if it’s the thing that keeps me going, gets downgraded to a hobby. I don’t think he knows me as a person at all. He never shuts up. He’ll go on lecturing about something that I honestly don’t give a fuck about and he won’t even care if I’m listening. He just loves the sound of his own voice and he won’t let anyone else talk. If my mom tries to say something, he’ll shut her up and be like ‘I can never say a THING in this house.’ He doesn’t respect my mom. He treats her horribly and it makes me want to cry and it makes her cry. I just want to get her out of here. She works from home and she’s so isolated and I don’t think it’s good for her. He’s called her job a “hobby.” Whenever she does what he thinks is shouting at him, he’s started saying “Don’t be a feminist.” It just makes me want to punch him. I don’t think I really love him. I know he’s my FATHER and all, but I just don’t feel it. I don’t think I ever felt it while I was conscious of it. Maybe when I was a lot younger and a lot blinder to reality. I don’t feel like you can really love someone unless you know them. Unless you at least know them. I think that maybe, you have to understand one another. I don’t understand him. I don’t think he’s ever made any effort to understand me.
He never apologizes to anyone. I don’t think he’s ever said a sincere word in his life. I think that even when he’s trying to tell me he’s proud of me for something, it gets forced out. He constantly tries to make a fight between me and my mom where there isn’t one. Sure, sometimes she’ll say something crude or start yelling at me out of nowhere, but I’ve learned to work with that. I’ve learned not to get so worked up about it. I’ve learned that if I just wait a few seconds and I don’t return the fire, she’ll mellow down a few comebacks later and we’ll be okay. It’s taken me a long time to find that way to get to her. I don’t want anyone messing with it. We used to fight every day. We used to have endless screaming matches.
It saddens me, seeing her with him sometimes. Sometimes. Sometimes, they gang up on me. Sometimes, they are equally cruel to me. But I like it best when I can be alone with her and he’s not there. I think she’s happier. I think we’re all happier. I think she hates the sound of him coming home.
I never really know what to do. It’s hard to get people to do things if they don’t have that spark of will on their own. It has to come from them. But I also understand that sometimes, people need a push to get their lives to where they want them to be. And I can see her happy when she’s with me. I just don’t know if she wants what I want for her. I don’t want to interfere and have it backfire in her face. I don’t know what to do. I can’t be the one making all the plans. I can’t be the one making all the rules. I can’t become just another tyrant for her, even if I am the one who cares, even if I’m the one who’ll be broken if I screw anything up for her and make her more miserable.
Be satisfied with this, I’ll never give anyone the whole story.