6/24/2024- blog 14

Morning entry:

Woke up at 7am, still felt tired, wanted to sleep in a little longer.

Accidentally slept in till 11, pissed off at myself and just generally irritable that I've wasted half a day.

Find out I only have an hour to make breakfast, get ready, and pack to go to dad's. Even more pissed off.

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Afternoon Entry:

Called a friend, not much to say, another friend joins, I left because I couldn't contribute to the conversation at all.

Dad should be coming home soon. I don't want anyone asking about my hair. I'm so pissed off about my hair right now and right now I don't want anyone sugar-coating it or asking if I showed pictures to the hairdresser, or just trying to make it my fault somehow. I am upset about it and I just don't want to talk about it.

I'm already infuriated just thinking about it.

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Evening entry:

Hell! I'm upset! Can he not rub it in every time I'm upset by coming up with some way that its my fault? If I was cutting my own hair that would be a different story.

Everything has to be my fault and I'm never doing enough.

I'm going to work myself to the grave just to stay away from that jerk. I'm just so fed up with having to rely on him to be in a good mood to barely communicate with him, I'm so sick of trying, I don't even want to go home for dinner, I'm going to try to work late on the days I'm at his house. A cold quiet dinner would be better company than sitting at a full table being evaluated by a man who never wanted to parent me and only get results and a woman who has to patronize every effort I make and point out everything I'm lacking as an adult, aren't you people supposed to teach me how to do these things? Just because I'm the eldest doesn't mean you stop teaching me.

Sometimes I feel like my dad only had my younger brother at his age for fresh bragging material. He hardly parents me or my younger sister anymore. He is gone all morning, and all afternoon and by then he is too tired or irritable to talk. And any conversation at that point is just a status report of what we've been doing all day.

He's so damn nosy. The whole reason I write a blog is that any form of physical writing will be found. My younger sister found her journal hidden in her closet left untied. She would put the laundry basket against the door on the inside of our room so she can tell when he's been snooping around, it's often. There is really no privacy here. This is not a home.

It sickens me really. Was he only nice to me when I was young and controllable? When I didn't have the capacity to fathom that he might be in the wrong and that I was just a dumb kid? When I agreed and took everything to heart that everything was my fault and I should know better when I didn't even know how to talk to people my age without getting bullied?

It is like my brain forces me to forget how many times he's gotten mad at me for stupid things and I still try to reach out to him and have some sort of relationship, and that makes me feel like a bigger idiot.

I hate that he brings out the most anger in me. I hate being angry. I know its unrealistic to get along with everyone but I just can't cope if I can't get away from it.

It pisses me off a little when he is nice and communicates, it either get my hopes up that it will be a more regular thing or it feels invalidating of all the crap I've had to endure over the years.