I don't have a lot of time to make this, so I might seem rushed.
Friday the 13th, an unlucky day. I sure as hell know that now. It started on midnight, when I was desperately trying to write a paper that was due for weeks now. Of course, I didn't do a goddam thing because EVERYTHING distracted me. I can't look my professor in the face anymore. No amount of saying 'this happens in college' will get rid of the shame in my heart over trying her patience.
Then the morning. Despite cloudy skies, it didn't seem like rain would come. Even the newspaper gave a low chance of heavy rains. So I left with only my waterproof jacket. I always come to the community college an hour early to prevent crap like having to run home for a book or something from causing missed classes. Today I decided to sleep because of the late-night failure before. I woke up at 9:45 for a class that ends at 10:00. And the professor STILL put my name on the attendance list. This pisses me off because I know I should not get credit for being there. I missed most of the damn class.
Once all my classes finished I went outside. The heavens had cracked open and the second coming of rain had started. All I had was my water proof jacket. In the five minute walk to the metro station that was literally one block away everything not under the jacket was soaked through. Don't get me started on the two-mile walk from the metro station to home.
Once I got home I had a chance to relax. 'Till around 3. I had to sleep, and it was wonderful.
At 6:00 I awoke to horrible stomach pains. I don't know what caused it, but there was a chance it could be something serious. But whatever, I got other things to d-
Oh, looks like I have to do the dishes. Recently a schedule was made so that me and my sisters alternate days for dishes responsibility. Both of my sisters had missed each of their days, dumping it on me. This was particularly annoying with this one, as she bore no empathy towards why I was pissed off.
I can handle this. Mild stress is nothing new. However, my father just had to give me a lecture during those dishes. And by lecture I mean complaining about all the weaknesses that I feel guilty about and just continue to poke at them for an hour. A fucking hour of me breaking down and him not batting a goddam eye. Now I'm used to this, so I hid it. I knew if he saw me break down it would only cause him to pry deeper and deeper, offering no fucking help other than exposing my weaknesses to the world. I have not felt this anger since elementary school. Not since he did that as a kid. Which reminds me: He is the goddam cause of all these weaknesses! No friends in the area? He was the one who never let me hang out with anybody as a kid. Now I have no damn clue nor desire to do it now. Take up some group activity like working with a performance group? He shot down dozens of them a few years ago. And now he fucking wants me to start? Does he know the mixed messages he is giving, and how much this is screwing with me?
At that point I wanted to... to...
*Sigh*
I can't. I can't hate him. I can't threaten him. I can't hold anger. Why? Why do I love my parents enough to forgive and forget the shit they put me through?
Now I need to take the next few days and think over my values of how much I am willing to forgive.
Edit: Also, I might have to go to the hospital if these pains persist. Great. My father is twice as horrible when it comes to injuries.