Re: The thread for flipping shits (and tables)
12-19-2011, 09:22 PM
Right so I've been meaning to get a lot of shit off my chest and I've got quite a few things to say but I'm going to stick to the one at the forefront of my mind right now.
Bit of back-story first. I've never been on particularly good terms with my dad. He's well-meaning, I'll give him that, but he's authoritative and he has that insistence that he's right no matter the circumstances. Last summer he had some plan to force me to get a job or do something over summer (his words were probably about how I spend too much time on the computer) by taking away my computer and laptop and so on. It sort of backfired-- I didn't get a full-time job (which was what he no doubt wanted) and I didn't stay off the computer (instead I spent most of the day locking myself in my room with a laptop, complaining to friends online). I was sort of stuck in this perpetual cycle of misery because there was no way I could meet his goals and my normal release mechanism was cut off from me. It progressed to a point where I outright told him I was contemplating suicide (which I was, a decent amount of time was spent trying to convince myself it's a bad idea), and even then it took another three weeks before we did any sort of therapy.
Seeing a therapist did help. Sort of. It meant there was someone between the two of us, and he did relent. I did two days per week of volunteer work at one of my city's nursing homes-- not the best volunteer work I've done, but enough to get my dad off my back (admittedly he wanted something like five days a week, which I politely informed him was not likely to occur). After maybe three weeks of this relationship I left for college.
College sort of helped our relationship, honestly. It meant I could do whatever I pleased and wouldn't have to deal with his demands, I could call and he'd offer support and such and I'd tell him that yes, I'm avoiding being an asocial basement troll. But uh, now I'm back for winter break and I feel like he's learned nothing. He's still got this insistence that I'm incapable of taking care of myself and that I spend too much time on the computer and it's his responsibility to make sure I do all of these things that only he cares about.
I feel self-destructive right now, honestly. Like I sort of just want to burn everything, damn the consequences. I feel like things are the beginning of summer again and I want to tell my dad that no, my plans for winter break don't involve getting a job and working out and talking to people and that I'd much rather sit in front of a computer and talk to people I'll never meet in real life and write about a psychic space leech and a cyborg bird and try to reinvigorate my pixel art habit and hang out with friends before returning to school.
I'd really like to tell him that but I know I never will.
Bit of back-story first. I've never been on particularly good terms with my dad. He's well-meaning, I'll give him that, but he's authoritative and he has that insistence that he's right no matter the circumstances. Last summer he had some plan to force me to get a job or do something over summer (his words were probably about how I spend too much time on the computer) by taking away my computer and laptop and so on. It sort of backfired-- I didn't get a full-time job (which was what he no doubt wanted) and I didn't stay off the computer (instead I spent most of the day locking myself in my room with a laptop, complaining to friends online). I was sort of stuck in this perpetual cycle of misery because there was no way I could meet his goals and my normal release mechanism was cut off from me. It progressed to a point where I outright told him I was contemplating suicide (which I was, a decent amount of time was spent trying to convince myself it's a bad idea), and even then it took another three weeks before we did any sort of therapy.
Seeing a therapist did help. Sort of. It meant there was someone between the two of us, and he did relent. I did two days per week of volunteer work at one of my city's nursing homes-- not the best volunteer work I've done, but enough to get my dad off my back (admittedly he wanted something like five days a week, which I politely informed him was not likely to occur). After maybe three weeks of this relationship I left for college.
College sort of helped our relationship, honestly. It meant I could do whatever I pleased and wouldn't have to deal with his demands, I could call and he'd offer support and such and I'd tell him that yes, I'm avoiding being an asocial basement troll. But uh, now I'm back for winter break and I feel like he's learned nothing. He's still got this insistence that I'm incapable of taking care of myself and that I spend too much time on the computer and it's his responsibility to make sure I do all of these things that only he cares about.
I feel self-destructive right now, honestly. Like I sort of just want to burn everything, damn the consequences. I feel like things are the beginning of summer again and I want to tell my dad that no, my plans for winter break don't involve getting a job and working out and talking to people and that I'd much rather sit in front of a computer and talk to people I'll never meet in real life and write about a psychic space leech and a cyborg bird and try to reinvigorate my pixel art habit and hang out with friends before returning to school.
I'd really like to tell him that but I know I never will.