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Posted by on 2012/01/18 under Uncategorized

I HATE MY DAD

He is ruining my life. I know you’ve heard it all before. But he really doesn’t understand anything. I try to talk, but he ends up yelling at me for no reason. He hits me when he’s really mad. Is it really normal to be scared of your own dad?
My mom understands me, and thats good i guess, except for the fact that she lives on the other side of the world.
The reason why i’m writing here today, is well, because me and my dad fought again.
I should start from the beginning, when I was born.
My mom was really young, and my dad was 7 years older than her. They’re both very strongminded, and in the beginning that is why they connected. But later it just made them fight all the time. Arguing with my dad is like arguing with a tree, you won’t make him understand anything, you won’t make him think about what you said, and you certainly won’t win. Arguing with him is only a waste of time, really. Arguing with my mom is like arguing with a your best friend. It starts out as a misunderstanding or different opinions, and we stomp away from eachother, but later we understand that it was just a silly argument that didn’t mean anything, and that went WAY out of proportions. And then we hug and laugh and all that crap…
And so because my mom is one person who likes to make up, and my dad isn’t (he thinks he’s always right), it didn’t end well. My mom was sick of feeling useless and just like a giant, smelly piece of poop, so she left him for an other, my step dad. Now I was 2 years old btw.

I lived my life mostly under my mom’s and stepdad’s roof, and just went to my dad’s a couple of weekends per month. I grew to love being at dad’s. Since i was only there in the weekends, I kinda got the wrong image of how life there was. We always did fun stuff, ate good dinners, had lots of candy and it was just fun all weekend. Of course it didn’t go as smooth as heaven there either, but it was nothing huge compared to how it is now.

Life at mom’s was great too, except for a few arguments i lived my life surprisingly smooth.
I had lots of friends, me and my bestfriend were the most popular girls at school, and so we got to date the cutest boys and have the most fun. Those years were the best of my life.
I also got to to a bunch of after-school-events, and my mom had full control of all the paperwork from school and the activities. My room was like a dream, and I LOVED to bring home friends. My mom always loved that I brought friends too, and sometimes she made us fun snacks. She always let me sleep over at friends’, and she always let me have birthday parties. And if I wanted two seperate birthday parties for different friends, she let me. In fact she liked to arrange them.

I lived in a small place with my mom and in the city with my dad. This was okay until I got the message. We were moving. My stepdad got a job in the states and we were going to move from my beloved Norway, til the United States of America. The country of my dreams, which i’d never been too. So we moved, from my dad, everything was okay, until I started to miss Norway. And my friends. And my perfect room. And my perfect life as a popular kid. It wasn’t easy to not only move to a different place, but in a different country to which I’d never been to before. It was hard to understand people at first, because we learn British English in Norwegian school. But I had a good life there. The homework was a load compared to what we had at home. I liked the school though, at it was the school that kept me there for so long. I didn’t like that after school, I ate dinner, did my homework, and ate supper, and went to bed. Every f***ing day. Same routine. Only difference was the red and green days at school. Only f***ing difference. Makes you kinda go nuts.
I also got social shock. I was used to just text my friend, and then walk for five minutes until im there. Then we’d invite all the boys and girls we liked to hang out with, and then just have fun until bedtime. If my curfue was at 22.00, I could leave at 21.55 and get home at time.
My friends and I were on the same after-school-activities, so we always walked to it together. And when on or way home, we always went to the store to get som chocolate or different snacks. And then we went to my friends house, which was kinda “the base”. And we hung out there until we had to go home.

I lived in the states for a half a year, until I got so homesick I decided to move home. To my dad.
In the beginning it was all glitter and glam, but then it started.
It was the longest streak i’d been living at my dad’s, and it wasn’t as exciting as before. I realised my dad’s temper was much worse than I’d ever known before.
In the beginning, another new school, and I got bullied. I started to regret that I ever left the states. I was in 8th grade and the popular kids were mean. They bullied me for being short, for having acne in my face, and for my ears sticking out of my extremely thin hair. They called me a santa’s midget because of the ears and the shortness. Someone also called me Zelda (lol, they are clueless his real name is Link….).

And at home it wasn’t as nice either. I haven’t been writing about her, but I’ve had a stepmom since I was 2 years old. She is evil, like in Cinderella. She loves her 3 kids(2 from earlier relationship), and the would do anything for them, and let them do anything. Just as a normal mother I guess. But she despice me. She despice how I look like my mom, and how I only got my dad’s bad cualities. She LOVES to yell at me when I mess up, but whenever I do something good, she doesn’t even flinch. When my sisters and brother does something wrong, she talks to them and tells them it was wrong. And when they does something good, it’s the most amazing miracle that has ever happened.

I’ve now lived at my dad’s for 3,5 years. And things has only gotten worse and worse.

In 10th grade things went better. I had a whole bunch of friends, and we were one of the most popular. Things had gone the way it usually does to me if i let it. It’s like fate I guess, not to brag, it’s just always been that way. I’ve always fitted best in with the popular girls and goys.

Me and my friends had SO MUCH FUN. The much fun I had since 7th grade (THE BEST YEAR OF MY LIFE). And things were looking brighter. My sister moved out of our previous shared room, and my brother got old and moved out, so I got his old sofa and TV. My sister got my other sisters room, and my other sister got my brothers room. So I had a freaking amazing room, again.
I went to after-school-activities and hung out with friends in the weekends. I started drinking, so I have A LOT of crazy memories from that time.
And you know the drill, my life was simply good.

Then, november 2011, we moved. The only house I can remember living in with my dad. We moved to a different part of the city, so I am still close to my friends, but the buses are so crappy, and someone stole my scooter, so I don’t have time to hang out with them after school. I just sit home in my crappy room and watch series.

And then we came to the present problem. Right now i’m sitting in my bed, tears drying, and writing this. My room looks like a freakin sewer, and with reason!! Apparently only a reason I understand, which kinda destroys it’s purpose. I refuse to tidy it up, because we’ve been living in our house for over 2 months! And still all i got is a bed, a nightstand, and a dumb ugly lamp (GREEN!). I mean c’mon, don’t yall agree? If he never finishes my room, why should I keep it clean? If he doesn’t care if my room is unfinished business, why should I care? If he refuses to satisfy my needs and finish it, why should I satifsy his needs by tidying it up?

I could go on like this forever. But the thing is, it looks like crap, and we are both being stubborn about it.

So, earlier today. Before school. As i said goodbye, I asked him if he could sign me up for dance-lessons. Surprisingly he said Yes. After school while eating dinner, I ask him: “Can you sign me up after dinner?” He says no.

Why does this piss me off? Well, because this always happens. He always wants to do things in the last minute (one of the bad cualities I’ve got from him). The dance starts this thursday, two days from now. And we wants to wait? Well, daddy. Kiss my sweet ass.

I had to man up to ask him this, because this always happens. And he always tells me to remind him later, and then later and then later. And then it’s almost too late. He wanted to wait a freaking week. I try to tell him that I can’t sign up for something a week AFTER it started.
But my dad the tree, wouldn’t listen. He tells me that I always get what I want, and so I get mad when I don’t. Well wake-up call. I NEVER get what I want. I haven’t gotten my christmas present yet, because his lazy ass won’t buy it. He is buying me new skis for our skitrip in february. I bet you he will wait until the last minute to buy them. Probably on the way to the mountains. I need new ones because the ones I’ve got now is the same size as my little sister’s ones, who’s 10 freakin years old! KIND OF EMBARRASING? Pluus, they’re pink….bright magenta pink…

I want the dance lessons because I’ve been sitting on my butt for half a year doing nothing. And I start to notice it! For a girl who’s been training almost every day since I was 10, I start to miss being awake and alive and healty, and without acne, well ,without boobs, but that’s not that important. And now I only get exercise in PE at school. Which doesn’t provide much exercise…

I want to be healty, ad sweating my ass of once a week will help getting my lazy ass fit.

Today it started out as a question, and ended up being a really bad argument. Dad really makes me feel useless. He says things to me that a bully would, and it really hurts me. I don’t have control of anything in my life. Everything is messed up. I don’t have a job, so I can’t afford going out with friends to party. I’ve been invited to 4 parties this month. How am i supposed to get money to pay for birthday presents and alcohol, when I can’t even get money for dance lessons, which is FAR more important.

Now, listening to my dad and stepmom’s conversation outside, it makes me so sad that he gives a s*** about me. He talks about buying a cabin or a boat. And that makes me see what he has been doing today. Instead of finixhing everyting in our house, including my room, he has been drinking coffee, applying for work, and searching the web for cabin and boat prizes. He also picked up my little princess-sister(not) from school, and made an extremely advanced dinner of pancakes and soup. So basically nothing. Well he is applying for work, and that is important! Don’t get me wrong. But I think he should finish the house before getting back to work. Because when he gets back to work he’s never home. NEVER. NEVERNEVERNEVERNEVER. He turns into workaholicer, and always bring work home, and stuff keeps piling on in his tiny head, and then he forgets everything. Or, don’t think it’s as important as finishing our f***ing house.

I know that as soon as he starts to work, my life will be freaking miserable. I will never be able to talk to him about stuff, and never have fun.

My friends get to party every weekend, and buy good food at the store for lunch. I have to stay home the entire weekend and to a big stinking pile of NOTHING. Which i’ve done since we moved to this rathole.

Before, when I had a job, I had money, so I never had to ask for anything from him. My room was good, except that I didn’t have a wardrobe, I had all my clothes in a corner on the floor. But it didn’t matter as much as this does. My friends asked me if I wanted to have a girl night and eat good food and stuff. Guess what, I couldn’t afford the food. I’ve been invited to like 8 parties the last wekends, but I haven’t been in anyone of them, because I was afraid to as if I could get money from my dad.

I don’t get scholarship, so basically I don’t have ANY money. It really sucks. My friends ate at a pastabakery last week, I had my lunch at school because it was too embarrasing to not be able to join them. I don’t have anything to drink at school either, just tap water at the toilets.

OMG, listen to that. My dad said he had been busy all day, turned out to be a lie. And after dinner he was supposedly busy finishing the kitchen. Well, guess who’s sitting on the precious iMac and watching mocie trailers from our local cinema. He just bought himslf an expensive jacket aswell. Because it was half price he couldn’t miss the chance. Well when half price is 3000,- it’s still not a good price. Not to mention the jacket was hideous. He can buy a jacket he really doesn’t need for 3000,- But dance lessons for 3600,- Is not discussable apparently. He owes me 300….maybe i should get them, then tidy my room, then ask for dance lessons, then ask for money to the birhtdays. If it were my mom, she would understand. she sould propose to me that if i cleaned my room I would get dance lessons and money for the birthdays. And she never owed me money, she always had control on her economy. Well I’m feelin terriffic, thanks for letting me post this. Even though NOBODY will ever read it, I’m feeling better, and nobody got hurt when I wrote this. Which is my goal. To write somwhere without anyone knoing it is me. One time I wrote crap about daddy on my blog, he read it. It didn’t make our relaionship better. Not to mention my two cases with the police. 1 in 8th grade for getting money to wank a guy who turned out to be the biggest rape-case-guy in 100 years…yeeeaaahh. And 2 for trowing a party at my friends house with ilegal underage drinking. I did it because of fighting with dad.

I love to drink and smoke beause it keeps my mind of my horrible family. Well, thanku for reading this πŸ™‚ I hope someone can relate to my problems! πŸ™‚ thanks a lot u guys <3

2 thoughts on “17-01-12(18:39:55)

  1. Anonymous says:

    Drinking will only dull the pain. The pain will still be there. If you want to be healthy go walking running. Dance is expensive. And smoking you can forget dance, you won’t last if you smoke. That s*** does horrid things to your lungs. Trust me i know. Second hand smoked for 12 years. My lungs are shot so i can’t dance anymore because i can’t keep up. SOrry to burst your venting but things aren’t all bad as you make them out to be.

  2. The writer says:

    Thank you for the reply! It’s really good to know that at least one person read all this.

    And as a reply to your comment; I don’t smoke anymore. My relationship with my dad has gotten better, but there is still much to do. I got a job, and I’m paying for my own dance lessons. I got better at school, and have been tidying my room. Which, just to mention, still looks like an unfinished job. The only change in it is new clothes, which some of them I bought myself, and the rest my mom got me when I visited her this summer πŸ™‚

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