Today was a hard day for me. My parents were yelling at eachother since I woke up, and from the way it sounded, my father was being an asshole again. He was telling her to move out and shit, like he always does when he gets pissed off. All day now, my dad has been a stone faced asshole. I wish I could tie him to a chair and scream at him and punch him until he responds to me. He makes me sick, I'm sickened that I'm related to him. He's a reason I don't want kids, as long as I keep my current name (It's not really Morgan Brikiin), I will not pass on the name of a bastard.
He never did one damn thing in support of me. He won't let me dye my hair black, he is incredibly negative to the idea of me changing my name. The thing is, he's not always like this, but he can easily turn into an asshole. My mother isn't like this, she'll snap at someone, but then be fine a second later. My dad is an ass. Whenever we get into arguements, and my mother isn't home, he acts like an authoritarian ass, like he owns me. He even said:
"I do own you, you're my son and I want you to be successful"
I wish I had a gun at that moment, so I could point it at him and say "You don't own me," and then point the gun at myself, and make him feel sorry for ever making my life shit. He only yells, he only once harmed me indirectly, when he tried to grab me, and I fell and hurt my leg badly. If he crosses the line, I have a baseball bat next to my bed. If he hurts my mother, I will use it. One time, I had my shirt on backwards, and I didn't want to change it, and we got into a big arguement. The arguement was sort of almost resolved:
He hugged me, and told me he was sorry. Then, he wrestled me to the ground, and took my shirt off, almost tearing it. I wish at that moment I was strong enough to push him on the ground and smack him around. He's an authoritarian asshole. His father beat him silly all the time, and he was drafted in Vietnam. Both of those things contribute to him being fucked up in the head. I'm equally fucked up in the head, because of him. I have a hopeless obsession, I don't like other people, I have no self esteem.
I wouldn't kill myself. I don't know for sure if heaven or hell exist, but sometimes, I think of what everything else would be like if I killed myself. I wonder if my parents would blame it on eachother, or if the tradgedy would bring them together. I'd wonder how my online friends would react - if my best friend Diana in Slovenia would cry. I'd never do it, I have something impossible to live for, but I just wonder what it would be like to end this tragic bloodline.
My mother is never like this. She's currently a recovering alcoholic, and she made my life hell, but not as much as my father did. I forgive my mother - she changed when she got Hepititis C, but my father will never change. He only cares about the idea of me - he's trapped in a mind that thinks I'll get married and have kids some day, and whatnot. I don't trust myself around young children, I wouldn't, that is, really. I'd be too much of an emotional wreck for any woman to handle, and I could never love any children I might have. It's just my nature - I can't naturally love. I can't say I love my father like a child loves his/her same sex parent.
My parents got divorced when I was 7 or so. She, my mother, left, but after I cried my eyes out, she came back. I don't know for sure - he lies a lot. He told me he just married her to 'do the right thing', yet he said I wasn't some mistake later, and also, they were together for like, 20 years or something, when I was 15. I don't know, but it's a fact my parents are divorced. My mother would often leave for a week or so - one time she said she wouldn't come back, but she broke her ankle badly and had to come home. I became agnostic then, instead of atheist. I would have probably had a different opinion of suicide if my mother wasn't there.
I hope maybe my mother can get a GED and a better job, so we can move out, and live together in like an apartment or something, without him. With him everything is too volatile. He never asks me if I want to do anything - he says he's gonna teach me how to drive, and all that. He had a huge opposition to skinny jeans I wanted, and he has a problem with the idea of me shaving anything other than my facial hair. He won't let me be me too much.
Every once in a while, I'll remember something, an arguement that turned bad, and I'll feel a sudden sense of anger, something as if someone injected testosterone directly into my arm. I remember one time, for three or so days, my father acted like a ghost - he would barely even go near my mother, and the two of them ignored eachother and got into arguements. I also remember one time when both my parents were yelling at me, and I had nowhere to go. My mother betrayed me that day - she usually was my shield from my father. At that time I really just wanted a gun to shoot myself with. I have nowhere to hide, my room is sort of like a hallway - you need to go through my room to get to the other half of the house. My dad has a problem with me closing my door, and it has no lock. I want somewhere where I can cry and be alone. Once I locked myself in the bathroom, but after just a little bit my father got all fucking weird and I had to come out.
I just wanted to get this all out. Now you all know something about me.
He never did one damn thing in support of me. He won't let me dye my hair black, he is incredibly negative to the idea of me changing my name. The thing is, he's not always like this, but he can easily turn into an asshole. My mother isn't like this, she'll snap at someone, but then be fine a second later. My dad is an ass. Whenever we get into arguements, and my mother isn't home, he acts like an authoritarian ass, like he owns me. He even said:
"I do own you, you're my son and I want you to be successful"
I wish I had a gun at that moment, so I could point it at him and say "You don't own me," and then point the gun at myself, and make him feel sorry for ever making my life shit. He only yells, he only once harmed me indirectly, when he tried to grab me, and I fell and hurt my leg badly. If he crosses the line, I have a baseball bat next to my bed. If he hurts my mother, I will use it. One time, I had my shirt on backwards, and I didn't want to change it, and we got into a big arguement. The arguement was sort of almost resolved:
He hugged me, and told me he was sorry. Then, he wrestled me to the ground, and took my shirt off, almost tearing it. I wish at that moment I was strong enough to push him on the ground and smack him around. He's an authoritarian asshole. His father beat him silly all the time, and he was drafted in Vietnam. Both of those things contribute to him being fucked up in the head. I'm equally fucked up in the head, because of him. I have a hopeless obsession, I don't like other people, I have no self esteem.
I wouldn't kill myself. I don't know for sure if heaven or hell exist, but sometimes, I think of what everything else would be like if I killed myself. I wonder if my parents would blame it on eachother, or if the tradgedy would bring them together. I'd wonder how my online friends would react - if my best friend Diana in Slovenia would cry. I'd never do it, I have something impossible to live for, but I just wonder what it would be like to end this tragic bloodline.
My mother is never like this. She's currently a recovering alcoholic, and she made my life hell, but not as much as my father did. I forgive my mother - she changed when she got Hepititis C, but my father will never change. He only cares about the idea of me - he's trapped in a mind that thinks I'll get married and have kids some day, and whatnot. I don't trust myself around young children, I wouldn't, that is, really. I'd be too much of an emotional wreck for any woman to handle, and I could never love any children I might have. It's just my nature - I can't naturally love. I can't say I love my father like a child loves his/her same sex parent.
My parents got divorced when I was 7 or so. She, my mother, left, but after I cried my eyes out, she came back. I don't know for sure - he lies a lot. He told me he just married her to 'do the right thing', yet he said I wasn't some mistake later, and also, they were together for like, 20 years or something, when I was 15. I don't know, but it's a fact my parents are divorced. My mother would often leave for a week or so - one time she said she wouldn't come back, but she broke her ankle badly and had to come home. I became agnostic then, instead of atheist. I would have probably had a different opinion of suicide if my mother wasn't there.
I hope maybe my mother can get a GED and a better job, so we can move out, and live together in like an apartment or something, without him. With him everything is too volatile. He never asks me if I want to do anything - he says he's gonna teach me how to drive, and all that. He had a huge opposition to skinny jeans I wanted, and he has a problem with the idea of me shaving anything other than my facial hair. He won't let me be me too much.
Every once in a while, I'll remember something, an arguement that turned bad, and I'll feel a sudden sense of anger, something as if someone injected testosterone directly into my arm. I remember one time, for three or so days, my father acted like a ghost - he would barely even go near my mother, and the two of them ignored eachother and got into arguements. I also remember one time when both my parents were yelling at me, and I had nowhere to go. My mother betrayed me that day - she usually was my shield from my father. At that time I really just wanted a gun to shoot myself with. I have nowhere to hide, my room is sort of like a hallway - you need to go through my room to get to the other half of the house. My dad has a problem with me closing my door, and it has no lock. I want somewhere where I can cry and be alone. Once I locked myself in the bathroom, but after just a little bit my father got all fucking weird and I had to come out.
I just wanted to get this all out. Now you all know something about me.