a july 26th 6:43pm rant

today i got a call from my father. he needed some details for insurance. so for some god-awful reason, he decided to call me…one of his spawn children. why couldn’t he call my brother? he doesn’t hate our father as much i do.

i really wanted to let the call go to missed call…but idiotically i thought i could handle the emotional stress.

i gave him all the details. i should have cut the call then and there. instead i let him go on and ask me about my life.

mostly about work and higher studies. that man couldn’t come up with another topic even if his life depended on it.

i answered everything one by one. carefully, so as to not hurt myself from his shattered glass. he continued to give me advice on to stay at my fuck-all job, the one i was planning to quit next year because i couldn’t bear doing nothing for another year. he said to wait until i have another job waiting.

i prompty told him i hated engineering, hoping he’d understand to shut the fuck up. but as emotionally neglected children go, no one understands anything we do.

then came the discussion of my future studies. i finally made the decision to learn something i wanted to and something i’m actually capable of learning and improving —-> journalism.

he then tries to tell me to consider studying abroad simply because i told him i wanted to go to japan. i ‘mmm’-d through the conversation and cut the call eventually.

i didn’t understand why this simple interaction, regardless it being with an emotional abuser, affected me this badly.

i wept and sobbed quietly trying to hide my emotions from the walls that had ears. i waited till i finally found the reason. because the cause usually presented itself…someday or another.

i hated every piece of advice he gave me because i once had to follow it and hated myself for it. i hate engineering…

People tell me not to cry over spilt milk…but it was four of the most painful years i have ever faced. it got to me a point where i thought my life did not matter. it hurt so much to not make any significant decision my whole life. it hurt to say anything that could’ve changed my life. i thought it was easy for someone else to make the decision…but regardless of the intent, i was doomed to hate myself and the profession chosen for me. it took me four years to figure it out. never once did it occur to me to do something i really wanted.

and now, here he was…with more advice and more ideas for my life. i realised how fucked up it would be if i ever listened to him ever again.

you must be thinking, come on… it happened once, give him another chance. But, reader, chances are all i gave to him through out my childhood. and he always always exceeded my expectations and fucked me over exponentially with each chance.

i think even animals know not to play with fire.

i always tried to tell myself and to others that my father was a good man. but in actuality, he was a volatile man who never considered us humans with a different life apart from him. my father was definitely like fire…he helped heat the food and gave warmth and security…but he burned us night after night while we were sleeping. i am burnt to a crisp and barely have anything to help me move on in life. it’s really sad that i will have to face him again and my ableist mother soon. i would rather die than live with them again. but then again, i would rather die than live on a normal day. but i’d consider death more seriously if i lived with them.

i used to hate myself for the choices that, i didn’t realise, were made for me. now the only solace i get is when i direct the hate away from me and blame the people who built me wrong.

but we are like two mirrors…pushing the blame-rays away from each other and onto the other forever.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s