FEELING frustrated...

Ok.. What did I do to deserve being treated like a fucking 9 year old by my Father? I'm soo SICk of his moods.. I'm understanding of them, I respect them, I tolerate, I TRY to help. I also realize that he is not always thinking straight right away (part of the whole military PTSD thing). BUt FUCK!!!

I dont ever do anything wrong, I dont say anything.. its not MY fault he decided to "eaves drop" on a not secretive conversation that was on going between my mother and I, for him to hear a SMALL tiney piece of the conversation.. and then misinterepret ... and ASSUME that he KNOWS fucking everything, BLOWS UP and goes off on his I'm mighter than thou, and your punishment shall be... FUCK the FUCKing Punishment... God DAMMIT!!!...I'm glad I dont live under The "Almighty's" reign

Ya know... I WAS feeling pretty well balanced today... Til I got this email from him...."if you don't feel obligated could you....." GOD DAMN ASSHOLE!!!!! So I call, politely, asking him EXACTLY what it is that he would like for me to research for him. (I dont mind doing this its the whole overall sarcasim he puts out there, Sarcasim that is COMPLETLY unjust)....

Anyway, back to the conversation, He's distant from me right now.. he's pissed, and I can tell by his tone that he feels that I have wronged him. (after all its NEVER his fault.. hes ALWAYS right.... GRRRRRRRRRRRRR).

The end of the converstaion went something like this...Dad "Oh btw the way... if anyone ever wants anything from me again, they are going to HAVE to ask, I'm not giving anything away anymore" Self "Its always been that way Pops, I have never NOT asked, IF I ever needed anything I've always asked." Dad "Well you know your sister..." Self "I'm not Andarial, and please dont ever compare us two as though we are the same..I KNOW that you know that better than that, besides this has nothing to do with her..." Dad "Well THIS is the way it is going to be from now on" .... I gave the polite "I gotta go and your busy(he was watching my 2yearold nephew), so I'll do what I can. GAWD I just wanted to SCREAM at him... I wanted to spill it all out... but it wouldnt have done anygood.. *cries helplessly* it wouldnt it wouldnt...

So I do what I had learn to do growing up.... I bit my tongue, let him have his say, and walked away, let him have his the last word... I had the last thought. I'm ready for chages, I'm ready to be done with school, to be outta debt, to MOVE...away. He cant hurt me If I'm further away. I keep saying this to Joe, he listens.. thank god..but it wont happen. IF I left it to him.. we'd be living in the same town... I'm thankful its not completely up to him.

Relistically, we couldnt move even if we wanted. Not with Joe starting school this fall and work paying for it. Plus there is no money...The Mortgage is due and theres just barely enough in the account to cover that til Joes next pay check. I need to work. I need to get a job. I need to contribute.

Here I am, jumping around again... *sigh*... Focus Kelly... focus...

I'm being flooded with bad memories between my father and I. We had so many good ones, and if I thought, I could pull them up rightnow... but I dont want to.. I WANT to be angry with him, I feel like I HAVE the right to be. I know that so many of my traits good and bad have been becuase of him and the not happy things that occured growing up.

I remember.... 8th grade in California, Dad heard mom and I discussiing how I needed to do the dishes (this is another issue that I can go into great lengths with and most likely will, another time). He swears that I was arguing and children who argue are not to be tolerated, (my mom even agrees that there was no arguement, just trying to come to an agreement). He came STORMing in like a whirlwind SCREAMing and yelling, calling me a smart ass bitch, I remember asking him to never call me names *L* *smack* off my glasses flew over the breakfast counter, into the familyroom against the piano...I just remmber hating him, every ounce of him, I followed the rules ALWAYS and here I was getting into trouble, for something according to him, but in reality, it was nothing. He was probably just in a bad mood, he was going through alot, with work and his grandmother being so deathly ill (gram was like a mother to him, within a few months she passed away never fully recouping from her surgery). I knew and understood what was going on with him, but I didnt understand WHy I was always getting into trouble. ... *sigh*

I digress...So I was "disowned" never to talk to him until I apoligized for my attitud and behavior and disrepect towards him. At 13 almost 14 I KNEW that I hadnt done anything wrong, I told this to my mother, she agreed but encouraged me to apologize so that it woud just be done and over with. Stubborn, no... I would not give in. I did NOTHING wrong, he hit me and call me HORRIBLE names. I figured if I was to be ignored, I will ignore in return.

this went on for two days til one day I had an accident on my bike in route to my friend Shannons house. This Boy Edgar and his brother were playing basketball and one of them missed the ball went flying past and ending up hitting me along the side of my face right where the ear piece for my glasses were...the ear piece (being that horrible nasty plastic) broke, I went home. At home I showed my mother what happend.. she took this as an opp for my dad and I to get on better grounds. She told me that there was nothing that she could or would do, until after I apologized to my father. I laughed and said forget it I'll just tape the up and go my way, but she held onto my glasses and said that I could not have them or any other pair back til I had done as she said.

So I sucked it up... I walked over to where he was sitting watching TV... stood there watching him "ignore me" (he knew I was there) "Dad, I'm sorry for how I behaved" somehow I did this witout a single tear falling...they were there burning I could feel it.. but I HAD to be strong, I could not be weak... He got up and walked off. I stood there hung my head down allowing the tears to just flood, then my mom came over, "Go after him... Tell him" "I DID tell him" (she didnt hear).... "Go tell him again"..."NO!" it was so hard for me to muster up an apology that I didnt mean in the first place, I hated lying, I couldnt pretend.. and to have to go following him like a little puppy, and BEGG for his forgivness.. I wouldnt do it. And I never did.

This whole situation led to the First and ONLY fight I have EVER had with my mother, I was sick of all the shit that was happening in the house.. (in the course of 4 months I had not been grounded, "free" to do as I wished (kinda) for about 2 weeks.. out of FOUR MONTHS! I was always getting hit with stuff my 4 year younger sis (andarial) always did, (she had and still has a horrible habit of stealing) I even had the pleasure on several occassions of finding the entire contents of my bedroom having been thrown out into the back yard.. cloths dresser bed and all. (rooms wasnt picked up). Diaries, notebooks, always rummaged through... yes.. these were some of my payments recieved by my father for being "too good" I must be hiding something. I MUST have been doing something wrong, better punish me now, though there is no reason for it. Was preventitive action dont ya know...So Yes, my mother and I fought, I was going to leave, I had friend whose parents always said I could come and stay if things got bad at home, I wasnt going to grab anything except my school books (HELLO, I had homework to turn in the next day *L*, I was never about letting my grades slip, school was a wonderful escape for me). She grabed me I pulled away and got as far as opening the dorr the next thing I knew she had my arms gripped tightly her nails diggin into my arms, mad and crying shaking me.. "GO TALK TO HIM" "NO!" Grabbing her hand not realizeing I had dug my nails into hers in efforts to relise myself from her grip. pulling pushing fighting I lost ground, fell, she grabed my hair and drug me that way down the hallway kicking and screaming, to HIM This is the funny part... ready?... he steps out of the room with a Dazed and Shocked look on his face "WHAT the HELL is going on???... -Mothers Name said here-!!! LET HER GO!!!... He doesnt remember what happend... even now.. ask him.. and he'll tell you that it was the day that he saved me from my mother! *Laughs* God the irony....

About a year laters something similar happened where My father only aught part of what was going on and once again reated before thinking and finding out what was up... (there was tons of ther shit going on up to this point, it never stopped) So at this point we had moved to a small small Base out in the middle of nowhere in San Luis Obispo (S.L.O) County. We moved into a temporary living situation... year and a half, onebedroom one bath single wide modular home with the 5 of us (folks, myself and two younger sisters). sisters were out side playing. I was standing in the bathroom,proably brishing my hair, and my mom started talking to me about somethings she needed me to do (she was coming in to use the bathroom) so I was listening and walking out as she was walking in... DAD saw me walking out.. thought I was blowing my mother off...Door behind me closes, narrow hallway.. next thing I knw hes takes two lunges towards me... and boom I Fly trhough the bathroom door, infront of mom crashing into the bath tub.Moms startled (of course) and I'm just numb he screaming at me about repect, and not turning my back on my elders when they are talking to me... Moms Yelling at him about how he's over reacting, I stand up crying, "I hate you!", then it became a battle (more so than what it aready was)He slugged me on top of my head.. I for the first time EVER hit back.. I slammed my fist into his stomach... I was soo terrified... but I had to defend myself... After I did that I ended up into a ball protecteing myself... all I can rember was feeling numb... with some occassional thumps hitting me... my mother screaming and pulling him off.. and an sisters bawling in the hallway.

*closes eyes pushing the tears back*....

you know its amazing how much more I can think of... and how many times I remember thinking I can never ever love my father... and years after I move out, we have a realtionship, we get along, I've been able to reestablish trust and respect with him, and yes love him... and see what happens? I get hurt. its hurts still. all of the lies, the betrayl and the fights from the past.... and its still all about Control.. his control. and yet... I still care, I still have resepct... all I can do is vent, talk about it and cry.