Gamma Male
May 16th, 2014, 03:03 AM
I hate my life. My mom is emotionally unstable, my dad doesn't give two shits about any of us, and my younger brother is schizophrenic. My dad, the over the road truck driver, knows my mom isn't capable of dealing with this kind of stress and he doesn't even care. Does he try to find a job where he's home more often? No. All he cares about is making as much money as possible so he can finish building this god forsaken fucking house(more on this later). Even when he is here all that fucker ever does is instigate things and make my mom feel like crap because of her phobias, and her panic attacks, and her inability. to deal with stress. So they just end up fighting with her crying and breaking down and him going on some self-righteous subsociopathic rant about how she should be dealing with things better. You want an example of the type of shit he does on an almost daily basis when he actually is home?
This happened last winter during those really bad storms that put ice on everything. You'll remember them if you live in North Texas. My mom has a really bad phobia of driving in bad weather, especially when there's ice on the roads. And my dad knows this. So one day we were driving down the highway, with ice on the road, and my dad started talking about how to drive on the ice safely. And then he PURPOSELy turned to make the truck start sliding down the ice for a second before pulling back and driving normally again. He said the reason he did this was to "demonstrate" that he knew handle sliding on the ice, and that it was stupid for my mom to worry with him as driver. But the entire fucking point of having a phobia is that it isn't rational. So even if he was the perfect, God like fucking driver he thinks he is, it still scares the shit out of my mom. The first time he did the controlled slide bullshit my mom was CLEARLY uncomfortable and stressed, so what did he do? Did he apologize and start driving more cautiously? Of course not. He did it two more times to show that "he knew what he was doing". And when my mom mom told him to please stop, he got all fucking condescending and passive aggressive and asked her if she thought he was a bad driver, or if she wanted to drive instead. And when she said no he told her to stop complaining then.
You know the last memorie I actually have of me and my dad doing something together? When I was five fucking years old and we played Majora's Mask together. As pathetic as it sounds, that is the single most treasured memory I have. Me and my dad playing a videogame together. That's it. I can't think of a single thing we've actually spent time doing together since then.
I miss being too young to realize how fucked up and unhealthy my family is, and not noticing things like how our roof leaks, and thinking that it was normal for parents to let their kids watch R rated movies with sex, and drugs, and violence and that that was just how all families were.
And my mom. I don't want to be mad at her. But I am. I'm mad at her for openly confessing to me that she likes my older brother more than me. I'm mad at her for the way she raised me and younger siblings. I'm mad at her for letting us watch R rated games and play M rated games since we were toddlers. I'm mad at her for telling me that wishes she never had kids. I'm mad at her for immediately giving up and breaking down and crying whenever the smallest little thing goes wrong. More recently, I'm mad at her for confessing to me, her 14 year old son, that she wants to kill herself and that the only reason she hasn't done it is because she doesn't have the courage.
I wish she could just divorce my dad. At this point I'm almost hoping that CPS will show up at our door one day and just take us away to a foster home. Anything would bebetter than this.
And my brother has it even worse than me. God fucking knows my parents aren't cut out to raise a. normal child, much less a schizophrenic one. What's gonna happen as he gets older? He's sure as hell not capable of living on his own. I hope for his sake that he gets put into a mental institution, or someplace that's actually capable of taking care of him.
Oh, and those are just the family problems. "But what about the whole being a gay, vegan, atheist in the deep south? How's that going for ya?" I'm glad you asked. That was very acute of you. Well, I dropped out of school in the 7th grade. But I plan on going back for 9th this fall when the next school year starts. When I do, I plan on being open and out of the closet about being gay and an atheist. I want a boyfriend. I want to discuss politics and religion with fellow students freely and openly. What's the worse that could happen? Verbal bullying I can ignore, and physical...well, I may be skinny but I am not a short guy. Plus, I'm sure the anger issues would really help in a fight. So, yeah, I'm gonna be open about who I am at school. And if some bible thumping, redneck, prick, redneck, "country boi" fucking waste of flesh has a problem with that they can go fuck themselves with a rusty unlubricrated pipe.
Anyways, thats my life story. Thought it was about time I shared it with you guys. Do with it what you will.
When I started writing this I was crying about not being loved by my parents, but now I'm a weird combination of angry and optimistic. It's like, so my parents don't love me. Fine. Whatever. When I grow up I'm going to be a rich Nobel Prize winning scientist. Why the fuck would I need them?
Whoah. That's a lot of text. :lol:
This happened last winter during those really bad storms that put ice on everything. You'll remember them if you live in North Texas. My mom has a really bad phobia of driving in bad weather, especially when there's ice on the roads. And my dad knows this. So one day we were driving down the highway, with ice on the road, and my dad started talking about how to drive on the ice safely. And then he PURPOSELy turned to make the truck start sliding down the ice for a second before pulling back and driving normally again. He said the reason he did this was to "demonstrate" that he knew handle sliding on the ice, and that it was stupid for my mom to worry with him as driver. But the entire fucking point of having a phobia is that it isn't rational. So even if he was the perfect, God like fucking driver he thinks he is, it still scares the shit out of my mom. The first time he did the controlled slide bullshit my mom was CLEARLY uncomfortable and stressed, so what did he do? Did he apologize and start driving more cautiously? Of course not. He did it two more times to show that "he knew what he was doing". And when my mom mom told him to please stop, he got all fucking condescending and passive aggressive and asked her if she thought he was a bad driver, or if she wanted to drive instead. And when she said no he told her to stop complaining then.
You know the last memorie I actually have of me and my dad doing something together? When I was five fucking years old and we played Majora's Mask together. As pathetic as it sounds, that is the single most treasured memory I have. Me and my dad playing a videogame together. That's it. I can't think of a single thing we've actually spent time doing together since then.
I miss being too young to realize how fucked up and unhealthy my family is, and not noticing things like how our roof leaks, and thinking that it was normal for parents to let their kids watch R rated movies with sex, and drugs, and violence and that that was just how all families were.
And my mom. I don't want to be mad at her. But I am. I'm mad at her for openly confessing to me that she likes my older brother more than me. I'm mad at her for the way she raised me and younger siblings. I'm mad at her for letting us watch R rated games and play M rated games since we were toddlers. I'm mad at her for telling me that wishes she never had kids. I'm mad at her for immediately giving up and breaking down and crying whenever the smallest little thing goes wrong. More recently, I'm mad at her for confessing to me, her 14 year old son, that she wants to kill herself and that the only reason she hasn't done it is because she doesn't have the courage.
I wish she could just divorce my dad. At this point I'm almost hoping that CPS will show up at our door one day and just take us away to a foster home. Anything would bebetter than this.
And my brother has it even worse than me. God fucking knows my parents aren't cut out to raise a. normal child, much less a schizophrenic one. What's gonna happen as he gets older? He's sure as hell not capable of living on his own. I hope for his sake that he gets put into a mental institution, or someplace that's actually capable of taking care of him.
Oh, and those are just the family problems. "But what about the whole being a gay, vegan, atheist in the deep south? How's that going for ya?" I'm glad you asked. That was very acute of you. Well, I dropped out of school in the 7th grade. But I plan on going back for 9th this fall when the next school year starts. When I do, I plan on being open and out of the closet about being gay and an atheist. I want a boyfriend. I want to discuss politics and religion with fellow students freely and openly. What's the worse that could happen? Verbal bullying I can ignore, and physical...well, I may be skinny but I am not a short guy. Plus, I'm sure the anger issues would really help in a fight. So, yeah, I'm gonna be open about who I am at school. And if some bible thumping, redneck, prick, redneck, "country boi" fucking waste of flesh has a problem with that they can go fuck themselves with a rusty unlubricrated pipe.
Anyways, thats my life story. Thought it was about time I shared it with you guys. Do with it what you will.
When I started writing this I was crying about not being loved by my parents, but now I'm a weird combination of angry and optimistic. It's like, so my parents don't love me. Fine. Whatever. When I grow up I'm going to be a rich Nobel Prize winning scientist. Why the fuck would I need them?
Whoah. That's a lot of text. :lol: