I caught my mother reading my blog the other day. I don't actually mind that much, but some entries have to be off limits. Seriously.
Mostly, today was good. Last day of school, no French, aced lit and chem (woot!) and had some Oreos with the best teacher ever. Came home, indulged in some LOST obsessing (I only watch that show for Charlie, which is why I haven't seen any episodes past the third season and I keep up with its progress by internet review; DOMINIC MONAGHAN, I AM LOYAL TO THEE) and watched Dr. Horrible with my mother. She said she wouldn't like it. Several times. Then she saw it and thought it was great. Ah, mothers.
But anyway. My dad...I don't know. I'm starting to get really tired of him, if that makes any sense. Today, when I tried to leave the house, he started up right away with the "Oh, Es! C'mon..." whiny-guilt shit. It all sort of evolved into a semi-joking, semi-serious disagreement about...stuff. Where I spend my time, how he acts, blah blah blah. My stepmom tried to mediate, but failed. Later, even though I thought my dad handled it reasonably well, he followed me out the door and managed to sneak in some crying, just in case I'd forgotten that I was SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD. YES, DAD, THANK YOU, I UNDERSTAND NOW.
Why doesn't he understand what he's doing? I'm not under contract to spend time at his house. I love him, and want to be near him, yes. He is my parent and I should yield to his requests. However, I have another parent. I love my mother and want to be near her too, and she is also my parent. THEY are the ones who split up. I have another home, and I should be able to go to it. Whatever, he'd poke a dozen holes in what I'm saying because he's a fucking genius, but all I;m saying is what I feel. I should be able to have a say in where I sleep without being yelled at, guilted, and made to feel like I'm spitting in his face or something. I want to be with my mom. I want to be with my dad. But I want to do these things because I WANT to do them, not because I'm bullied into them. Yeah, he's a bully. And I know I bitch and whine about this...but it just scrapes me more and more raw every time. It's sort of exhausting. GAH. Fucking fathers.
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Ugh.
ReplyDeleteThat's all I can say, and it doesn't do justice to what you said.
But UGH.
*sending good vibes and virtual feel-better-hugs*
YOUR MOM WAS READING YOUR BLOG? My parents don't know I have a blog. They don't know half of what I "have" on the internet. That being said, I'm not stupid, and I keep myself safe. But I'm damn glad they're not reading what I write.