|
Triggering (Abuse) - A typical day with my father. *semi-rantish*
This is what I have to put up with...
Doctors appointment - 4:40. I tell her everything. I tell her about my dad and the weight loss thing. I tell her about the fact I'm too scared of their being a shark in the swimming pool to go swimming, too scared that the hitcher is sitting the the back of my car to drive by myself at night. I tell her about the whispers. I tell her about being suicidal most of the time, and bouncing off the walls the other half the time. I tell her about my eating habits.
She says I basically have bulumia. Or, if I don't already, I'll end up with it. I ask her if she can write a letter to my rents, and she fobs it off. Twice. Gives me hayfever stuff, tells me to see someone in Southampton and that's it.
I come out of the doctors to a text from my sister.
"Erm, yeah. Good luck when you get in tonight. I cleared away stuff so kitchen was alright, but dad was on bedroom patrol. And because I'd left the epilator on the kitchen table he went mental, threw it out of the window, and made me go fetch it. Like some kinda scum. Well, thats me... And he saw the sweets and threw away anything open, and the rest are "going to the kids". He is A complete and utter ****. And I say that with no remorse. Come home and lick his ass".
Firstly, the sweets were for me and alex, and the left-overs are going to the race. Even if they are mine, he has no ****ing right what-so-ever to take away stuff that I bought with MY money from me.
Anyway, so I drive home, full of anxiety. Have to stop the car twice in a less than 10 minute journey because I think I'm going to be sick. I get home, and go and talk to Fred [my sister] for a bit. Then I clear up the stuff I left in the kitchen (one carrier bag under the sofa that I forgot to pick up before I went to work). I then go to my room and start sorting it out. Granted, it was a tip. But bear in mind that I've had to get up and walk/feed the dogs and lambs before I get to work because they're away, and have had a friend over for the weekend - it's not like I've had time to sort it out. However, yes, it was a mess.
I spend about an hour or so tidying up, and then come onto RYL for literally 5 minutes. You can see a vast improvement in my room - it's obvious I've been doing it. So he comes in, and sees me on the computer.
Starts yelling. "YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU TO TIDY YOU'RE ****ING ROOM NOW DO IT BEFORE I CHUCK THAT COMPUTER OUT OF THE WINDOW. SHUT IT DOWN NOW. TIDY YOUR ****ING ROOM. GET OFF OF IT. SHUT IT DOWN."
When you're being shouted at to get off of your computer straight away, but to also shut it down completely, it's a bit daunting, so I start shutting it down.
"I TOLD YOU TO GET ****ING OFF IT".
So he turns it off from the mains. However, I have a laptop, so it obviously does nothing.
Bang on cue, Chelsea gets hit.
I shut the lid of the laptop and start telling him that I'm sorry. He starts yelling about what a pathetic useless fat waste of space I am. Tells me we're all going on a diet - the whole family.
I actually can't write any more. Update to come later.
|