Say It. I Dare You.
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Join Date: Jun 2006
Monday, February 25, 2013 at 02:32AM
I didn't watch the Oscars but I saw some tiny snippet of a song about actresses' boobs as sung by host Seth MacFarlane. He needs to stop being named Seth. I think that's a sexy name and he and both Hollywood Seths I can think of just need to put it down and pick up something that sounds less incongruously cool. Unless it turns out that Seth Green acts like Oz in real life. I'll make allowances for Ozness.
My dad had an extended explosion of bile at me tonight, leading in with saying he's "sick of [me] being useless." **** that ****. He doesn't know the first thing about me and he's of no use to me either. The things he's invented about me are really screwing things up for me, though, because he makes up things I've done as well. Like apparently I've jumped to erroneous conclusions based on reading medical stuff on the internet? Despite that I avoid making conclusions about medical stuff and instead just compile lists of things to bring up to doctors. I assume this has to do with his random insistence that I distrust doctors because...reasons. Proven by...stuff.
He's absolutely going to think that somehow his "wake up call" (WTF you have no damn sense I'm not asleep you moron and stop saying "what you're doing" because depression isn't something people DO as an affront to their dumbass fathers), AKA unwitting attempt to drive me off a cliff, somehow caused me to get better once I've fully recovered and gotten the **** out of his house. He and my mother started in on trying to get me to tell them a day I'd talk to someone about getting on medications. Yeah, no, you don't get to decide my recovery methods. You are not doctors and I will not report to you like a child because that is not what I am. Being
child does not make me
child. And I am so much better than I am before. If you don't like the speed of my progress, either tell me to leave or just ****ing deal with it, because I don't heal on your schedule. Or mine, or anyone's.
My behavior. My BEHAVIOR? Apparently despite being something that they feel they can demand I get on pills for regardless of what I want, depression is not a disease but a choice made by lazy, worthless burdens because they hate their parents. Wow. I am not sitting back and enjoying a vacation in ****ing purgatory, you *******s. Also, holy transference, Batman. My dad brings up the topic
to say that part of "what I have" makes me keep bringing up subjects once they're closed. Which is totally how the topic came up again. Don't let my silence fool you. Then he says in a patronizing tone to remember recently when they both "had to" tell me to "let it go." Yep, I sure do - I misheard what Mom was asking, she got mad at me and I just stood there and stammered out apologies and when I asked her to confirm her initial request they both said "let it go" repeatedly, barely leaving room in between for my replies of "Okay...Okay...
!" as I backed out of the room.
I am too busy clawing my way out of this pit to deal with you two and your illusions about how mental health works. It's like if I broke my leg and you kept trying to make it heal faster by stabbing it. You. Are. Not. Helping. You morons. I don't have the energy to pretend you're all wise and ****. Especially you, Dad. There is FAR more wrong with your head than there ever could be with mine. I'm serious. I wish something could be done about your pathologically short fuse.