Speech Therapy

Because of some uncanny words shared between my mother and I today, I really don't know what else I expected when I got home, but to bear the brunt of my Dad.

Just as I stepped out the car, I was told to go sit in the kitchen and wait until he could get to me. I knew I was going to be punished, yet AGAIN, so sitting in the kitchen really didn't break me, or make me nervous.

As Dad yelled and cursed me for everything I've ever done wrong in MY LIFE, plus things he "thinks" I did(though haven't.), all that was running through my mind was "I know, I know, God I freaking KNOW". All this week any fucking(excuse that) time I talk to anyone, they all just yell at me about how wrong I am.

REALLY?
YOU DON'T THINK I FREAKING UNDERSTAND THAT?! DO YOU THINK I AM STUPID? DUMB? IGNORANT?

I get it.
I know what I did was wrong. And you expect that in two days I will have made everything better. NEWS FUCKING FLASH, it takes some god damn time. So please stop thinking you're just going to set me straight by giving me all this philosophical, pyschological, hypothetical bull-shit propoganda that's just going to 'turn me around' and make me a 'new person'. Shut the hell up.

And that right there is why my dad even had to have the conversation with me, because I got so sick and tired from not only hearing it from my parents, but every single person who knows me. Stop. Just fucking stop. Do you realize I tune you out. Do you realize I don't give a shit about one word you're saying, because I already know that I did something stupid. I know how god damn stupid it was. I'm dealing with my own guilt from myself, plus my parents, and what I did to friends. So the last thing I need, is your own guilt trip.

-Anywayssss.
My father went into his outlandish speech he gives every time I do something wrong about how he provides everything we(Will Katie Julie) want and more. How we're spoiled, we're brats, we're never asked to do anything. Which in that respect, my parents have given us a lot, I have lived a somewhat privlaged life. My dad makes a six figure salary. Now, regardless, my parents have NEVER just whipped out a twenty for me, my parents are never flashy. My parents don't just go out and buy something that I want without first talking about it, seeing if it's reasonable. If I want something I buy it.

I buy my own clothes, I bought my own iPod, my jewlery, my shoes, my makeup, things that I don't HAVE to have necessary for survival, I buy. I'm going to say that's more than the majority of any one I know has to do. So fuck off if you say I'm a well-to-do spoiled brat.

But when my dad started in with how he works just to make us happy, and how he was going to be taking a job in South Africa, so that we can have more money. I really didn't think he would affect me. He's splurred this speech to me more times than possible to count. He started saying how he would miss every birthday, every graduation, every achievement, every anniversary with the love of his life, every party, every moment in me, Katie and Will growing up. Just for money. To let me go to college. To maybe save my brother. MAYBE. To pay back the 100,000s of dollars that have time and time again saved my brother.
He noted that he knows I don't love or like my mom (right in front of her too), but he loves me regardless and would do that.

you know, my dad gets it. he really does.
and it's sad that the only words I could mutter at the end of that was,

"thanks for being my dad" and a measley hug, before I walked upstairs trying not to make a noise while i began sobbing.

I SUCK....I know.