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Jul. 2nd, 2010 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardI could use a few internet hugs right now, if anyone has some going spare.
I do not think it is unreasonable to say, in the mildest, quietest possible voice, "Daddy, I can't hear the movie," after missing both the humor and the emotional denouement of the past twenty minutes of a movie of my choice because my father comes in and begins talking about his foreign students, and -- who does that, anyway? Because I am not really comfortable saying, "Please stop talking" or "Please go into another room if you're not watching the movie" to my parents, because that tends to be met with badly, and yeah, I thought about this. I spent twenty minutes thinking about it! So I went for a statement in what I considered a very mild tone of voice instead, and I got, "So shut your mouth and watch the movie," snapped at me instead.
And I will admit immediately that my reaction was overkill -- I snapped something, threw my knitting on the floor, gathered it up, stormed out, got yelled at, threw it again -- and what is with the throwing, by the way, before two weeks ago I never threw things! -- yelled, "Fuck!" when I realized that I had just thrown my knitting and I couldn't see where the ball of yarn had gone and I had literally just finished the last row of the lace chart and omg what if it slipped off the needle and unraveled, then gathered it up again and ran upstairs, slamming the door. Then rewound the yarn that had unraveled, because I had to do something with my hands. Eventually my dad came upstairs and yelled at me to, "Come down and watch the goddamn movie!" to which I yelled back that it was probably already over.
Eventually I went back downstairs to get the movie, since I figured I could just watch the end on my laptop (gee, only one room in the house with the TV I set up and a DVD player), then had to go back down because I realized I hadn't grabbed the lace chart. At which point my mom grabbed me and told me I should have -- just waited, since Dad was finishing up his spiel anyway? Or said, "Please?" Some combination of both? And I tried to explain my reasoning -- I am really, really not comfortable making a request of that sort to my father, since it almost certainly would have gotten about the same response or, "I'll do what I want in my own damn house," which I've gotten before -- and then my dad came out of the bathroom and told me that I needed to grow up, which was a pretty quick way of getting me even more angry and emotional, at which point I said that there was no way I was coherent enough to discuss this right now and fled upstairs.
So, okay: the storming out, the throwing things, and the yelling? Overkill, definitely. But I did not deserve to get snapped at dismissively in the first place, especially for something that wasn't my fault, and -- I don't really know what to do in that situation. I don't. So I left, because at that point there's no reason to stay, and then -- I think, I honestly don't remember at this point -- got yelled at again, and threw my knitting, and got yelled at again, and threw it again and yelled myself, and then ran upstairs and slammed the door. But I didn't know what to do. It doesn't help that when I'm angry, I tend to go from 0-60 in about two seconds flat.
*curls up*
I do not think it is unreasonable to say, in the mildest, quietest possible voice, "Daddy, I can't hear the movie," after missing both the humor and the emotional denouement of the past twenty minutes of a movie of my choice because my father comes in and begins talking about his foreign students, and -- who does that, anyway? Because I am not really comfortable saying, "Please stop talking" or "Please go into another room if you're not watching the movie" to my parents, because that tends to be met with badly, and yeah, I thought about this. I spent twenty minutes thinking about it! So I went for a statement in what I considered a very mild tone of voice instead, and I got, "So shut your mouth and watch the movie," snapped at me instead.
And I will admit immediately that my reaction was overkill -- I snapped something, threw my knitting on the floor, gathered it up, stormed out, got yelled at, threw it again -- and what is with the throwing, by the way, before two weeks ago I never threw things! -- yelled, "Fuck!" when I realized that I had just thrown my knitting and I couldn't see where the ball of yarn had gone and I had literally just finished the last row of the lace chart and omg what if it slipped off the needle and unraveled, then gathered it up again and ran upstairs, slamming the door. Then rewound the yarn that had unraveled, because I had to do something with my hands. Eventually my dad came upstairs and yelled at me to, "Come down and watch the goddamn movie!" to which I yelled back that it was probably already over.
Eventually I went back downstairs to get the movie, since I figured I could just watch the end on my laptop (gee, only one room in the house with the TV I set up and a DVD player), then had to go back down because I realized I hadn't grabbed the lace chart. At which point my mom grabbed me and told me I should have -- just waited, since Dad was finishing up his spiel anyway? Or said, "Please?" Some combination of both? And I tried to explain my reasoning -- I am really, really not comfortable making a request of that sort to my father, since it almost certainly would have gotten about the same response or, "I'll do what I want in my own damn house," which I've gotten before -- and then my dad came out of the bathroom and told me that I needed to grow up, which was a pretty quick way of getting me even more angry and emotional, at which point I said that there was no way I was coherent enough to discuss this right now and fled upstairs.
So, okay: the storming out, the throwing things, and the yelling? Overkill, definitely. But I did not deserve to get snapped at dismissively in the first place, especially for something that wasn't my fault, and -- I don't really know what to do in that situation. I don't. So I left, because at that point there's no reason to stay, and then -- I think, I honestly don't remember at this point -- got yelled at again, and threw my knitting, and got yelled at again, and threw it again and yelled myself, and then ran upstairs and slammed the door. But I didn't know what to do. It doesn't help that when I'm angry, I tend to go from 0-60 in about two seconds flat.
*curls up*