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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is like a diary entry for me.... Wasn't sure what to title it. I'm talking about an "argument" between my Dad and I from last night. I'd really appreciate feedback in the comments, please.

Submitted: November 19, 2016

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Submitted: November 19, 2016



Last night was a mess, to say the least.

My parents and I had just arrived home after being out for a couple hours, and we were about to have dinner. My dad asked me to set the table, and I simply replied saying, "yes". I promise that my tone didn't have any attitude in it, albeit I sounded a bit monotone.

My Dad completely flipped out. I'm used to him having a temper, but last nights incident was awful. He started screaming about how he can't ask me to do anything without me bitching (which is untrue). I had no problem setting the table, it's not even a big deal. I apologize to him for my tone coming out wrong, assuring him that I had no issue setting the table, it's such a small request. He responds with,

"Don't apologize if you're not truly sorry!"

He was screaming at the top of this lungs at this point. I really was sorry, though. I was sorry for upsetting him, I don't want to upset anyone. Anyways, my Dad continued to scream about how awful and selfish I am. He then slammed me against the wall, and shook my shoulders. Spit was flying all over my face as he screamed "FUCK YOU". His face was beet red and enraged. I was absolutely terrified, desperately wanting to get away. Meanwhile my Mom wasn't saying or doing anything. I'm wondering now what she was thinking through all of this.

My Dad let go of me, and I ran into the kitchen/laundry room where my Mom was and cowered in the back of the room. I didn't run to a room with a lock because that would've angered my Dad further. He would've gotten inside anyways... That's happened before. Anyways, my Dad (still screaming) says how I always walk around looking mopey and depressed when I have no reason to be. He then asked what my problem was. I couldn't say that the problem was him, so I said that there wasn't one.

"Well there has to be!" 

I was stuck. I couldn't give him a real answer, so I continue to deny that I had a problem. My Dad stormed into the room, and yelled that I'm "killing" him and that I'm ruining his life. I won't lie, that really hurt me. I felt so bad that I'd caused such anger and pain for him. He left the room again. I couldn't cower in the laundry room forever, so I slowly made my way to the dining room where my parents were sat. I stood next to the table while my Dad spoke.

He wasn't screaming anymore, but there was still extreme anger in his voice. He said that I walk around like I'm abused and that makes him look bad. I don't put on an act whatsoever. I just go about my day, I don't "act". My Mom was agreeing with him, and I felt betrayed. I always stick up for her, yet she very rarely does the same for me. She has told me when we're alone that she doesn't agree with the things he says (about me).

Anyways, my Dad was just saying how I needed to change because I'm such a nightmare to be around. And that I need to walk around with a smile on my face rather than "act" depressed because I have a great life. As a side note, I absolutely know that many people have it worse than me. I'm grateful for what I have, I can promise anyone that.

After my Dad finished basically tearing apart my character, I sat down and ate my dinner. I kept my head down, not saying a word. I ate quickly to get away from them. After I was finished eating and washing dishes, I rushed to my room. My Dad stopped me. He gave me a hug, and I stood there stiff. He pulled back and said,

"You know I love you, right?"

Yes... I do. As hurt as I can be, I do know that. I responded with,

"I love you, too"

"You can look at me when you say it" He said with an edge to his voice.

Fearing confrontation, I looked up from the floor and repeated that I love him. He then let me go, and I went to bed.

I know I could be a better person, absolutely. I'm not saying I have bad parents, either. I'm taking the blame. I'm going to make an effort to not upset my Dad, because he doesn't deserve to have me cause him so much grief. I'll put a fake smile on my face if it makes him happy. I'm going to try, I really am. Now I'm just wondering if I "deserve" to be sad.



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