Tag Archive: parent-child relationships

In Other Mildly Unrelated News

Yesterday, I managed to break my DS. Again. This time, however, it was because I threw it with a lot of force at my sisters bed. So much force that it bounced off of the bed and hit the wall on the other side…
The reason I threw it was so that I didn’t punch my darling sister in the face. I don’t even remember why I was angry with her or why I was so agitated yesterday, and still was a little this morning after hours yesterday evening of void emptiness. Now I’m back to void emptiness.
My father shouted at me yesterday for being in such a mood. He threatened to hit me if I acted that way again. He never once stopped to ask why I was angry or why I was upset or anything…
Seems he forgot about his threat though because he claimed that I was acting in the same way this morning and he didn’t hit me. He just shouted some more. Again, he didn’t ask what was up.
He tends not to ask what’s up. I got out of the habit of telling him a long time ago simply because he never asked.
Now, the fragmented relationship I have with him causes me a lot of inner turmoil and I can’t talk to him about it. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he shouts and blames it all on me. Maybe it is my fault…


Last night my parents were questioning me like the Spanish inquisition. They were asking about Shaan-kun. I couldn’t lie about him. The result of this quite long winded conversation was that my parents agreed to meet him.
My father decided that Shaan-kun should visit after the New Year. My mother said he could visit anytime except Christmas. Dad was smug to find out that Shaan-kun decided to come after the New Year.
I think it turned out quite well.

I’m the voice inside your head you refuse to hear. I’m the face you have to face mirrored in yourself.

Every child craves their parents approval, right? This would explain why, when at home, I constantly feel empty and void of the majority of positive emotions. Heh.
So how’s it feel to know such a miserable person?
I guess it’s my own fault really. I mean, it’s not like I try my fucking hardest to gain my father’s approval or anything. Yeah, ’cause I totally try my best to be showered with an abundance of disapproving, sarcastic comments. I so totally love the waterfall of negativity I sit at the bottom of in the fucking fetal position.
The saddest part is I’ll never be able to tell him how much he’s actually crushed my whole emotional being and caused me so much pain that I wished I were dead. No, he’ll never know.

“Memory is merely a record.”

I’ll be okay. Always am.


I went to bed last night with a slight headache and a smile on my face… Yeah, I was ever so slightly intoxicated. What can I say? I like red wine and my mother gave me some. It’s all good, right? We had a laugh and sang some songs before going to bed. Nothing wrong with that, eh?

I think dad has a hang over this morning. Figures that he’s in a bad mood. I wonder if he fought with mum again… He came into my bedroom this morning, shouted at me for something I didn’t do, then shouted at me for telling him who did it. He also shouted about the tone of voice I was using. Talk about getting up on the wrong side of the bed… Ah well…

I do wish I was still in a good mood. Maybe that way, I would be able to deal with people better. But instead, I have a father who, from time to time, makes me wish I was never born. Yay…

Unfair And Unjust

I got in trouble with my parents earlier. Maybe it was the way I dealt with things that pissed my dad off or maybe it was the fact that he just can’t stand it when I’m the one that’s right. I had my phone taken off me (oh the horror! I love sarcasm) and made to sit down “thinking about what I’d done” like a fucking child. What I’d done was stood up for myself in the face of injustice. My younger sister was treating me like shit so I told her she couldn’t borrow the stuff she needed from me and I wouldn’t move just because she didn’t like where I was sitting. Okay, maybe I was just being stubborn but I don’t have to let her borrow my stuff and she doesn’t control what I do. I am thoroughly sick of how people treat me. No matter how confident I try to seem or what kind of aura I try to give off, I still get the odd obnoxious brat who thinks he’s better than everyone else spitting on me. Maybe I really will have to kick shit in someone before people actually see that I’m not to be fucking messed with. I also noticed that I’ve been spitting out a lot more profanities as of late. Ah well.


Sometimes I wonder if they really have their child’s best interests at heart.