Welcome to my life
I go to get a drink of water. It's 2:30 in the afternoon and my dad gets off of work early. Earlier in the day Ben and I played on the PS2, cleaned the house, I worked on scholarship stuff. MTV2 is on in the background mostly rap and hiphop. I hate it when my dad says my name because he never says it. He always yells it. Usually when he wants something or when I fucked up.
He yells my name as I get the cup out of the cubbord. I go to him and see what it is. He tells me the task he gave me this morning to do was done wrong and insults me some. I take it and think about something else. He dismisses me and I go back to my empty cup just as I pick it up he yells again.
I go back there were he asks me questions I don't have the answers to and then gets mad because I don't know the answers. I keep thinking about something else. He tells me to call my mom and see if she knows the answer. The question is so trivial its not even worth stating here. Mom will be off work in an hour or so I don't see the point in calling her but I don't argue with her I just do it.
She doesn't know either. SO my dad takes the phone and insults her at work about it. In the background I hear a famliar tune and turn to the TV. Simple Plan is on and one of the greatest songs ever written is on. "Welcome to my life" The first time I heard the song it made me cry.
I hate it when my father says my name. When he does say my name and not just "you" or something mean.
I finally got my water after an hour of this bull shit. Of course afterward I had to pretend that nothing had happened and everything was A-Ok. I'm tired of pretending to be okay. I hate coming home. This place doesn't mean anything to me really. I'm totally indifferent to it.
The worst part about all this is that most of you people reading this can all nodd and go hell yeah I know what you're talking about I've been there.
Why is there such a there?
I don't understand that. Why am I here and why have you been here and maybe are still here?Why is it that we have to take all forms of abuse and keep quiet? I don't understand so much. I guess being away from all this for 4 months made me forget how much home isn't home. I miss Q, Billy, and even Starr and I want my shared room back with the music in the background and the noise in the hall.
There's no music here and the only noise in the hall is my name being yelled. I hate it here. I want break to be over.
I go to get a drink of water. It's 2:30 in the afternoon and my dad gets off of work early. Earlier in the day Ben and I played on the PS2, cleaned the house, I worked on scholarship stuff. MTV2 is on in the background mostly rap and hiphop. I hate it when my dad says my name because he never says it. He always yells it. Usually when he wants something or when I fucked up.
He yells my name as I get the cup out of the cubbord. I go to him and see what it is. He tells me the task he gave me this morning to do was done wrong and insults me some. I take it and think about something else. He dismisses me and I go back to my empty cup just as I pick it up he yells again.
I go back there were he asks me questions I don't have the answers to and then gets mad because I don't know the answers. I keep thinking about something else. He tells me to call my mom and see if she knows the answer. The question is so trivial its not even worth stating here. Mom will be off work in an hour or so I don't see the point in calling her but I don't argue with her I just do it.
She doesn't know either. SO my dad takes the phone and insults her at work about it. In the background I hear a famliar tune and turn to the TV. Simple Plan is on and one of the greatest songs ever written is on. "Welcome to my life" The first time I heard the song it made me cry.
I hate it when my father says my name. When he does say my name and not just "you" or something mean.
I finally got my water after an hour of this bull shit. Of course afterward I had to pretend that nothing had happened and everything was A-Ok. I'm tired of pretending to be okay. I hate coming home. This place doesn't mean anything to me really. I'm totally indifferent to it.
The worst part about all this is that most of you people reading this can all nodd and go hell yeah I know what you're talking about I've been there.
Why is there such a there?
I don't understand that. Why am I here and why have you been here and maybe are still here?Why is it that we have to take all forms of abuse and keep quiet? I don't understand so much. I guess being away from all this for 4 months made me forget how much home isn't home. I miss Q, Billy, and even Starr and I want my shared room back with the music in the background and the noise in the hall.
There's no music here and the only noise in the hall is my name being yelled. I hate it here. I want break to be over.
1 Comments:
Ahhh, I always know something is up when my dad calls me "Peter" instead of "Pete" or "son."
Do your parents do this...? When they get all pissed off at you, and you just sit there and take it (because, well, what else are you supposed to do!?), do they get even angrier? Oh, it's so frustrating! My parents pull the "You don't even seem to care," and they're usually right, but if I acted like I cared I'd get in trouble for having an attitude. Agh.
I'm just hanging around the house until something like... the tenth of January, I think. My brothers and I just hide in our room, hahah. We're the only company we need.
I hope your situation becomes more bearable.
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