Tuesday, May 5, 2009

My Morning

This morning, before my dad left for work, he decided to call us (meaning my older sister and I) "fucking worthless pieces of shit". It was the first thing I heard today, which is awesome. I'm not in his shithole house by choice or anything, but he pretty much threatens to kick us all out every week over little to nothing (other than the horrendous, rage-filled mood swings he receives from taking Zoloft), just about anything slightly out of place will set him off. The worst part is that later in the day he acts like it never happened, and goes back to that sickly sweet shade of "happy" that most pill poppers seem to adapt from whatever weird rush they get from berating and verbally abusing their family.

I'm not even upset that he thinks we're all worthless pieces of shit. I think a lot worse of him, I just don't wake up everyone in the house screaming it as I walk out the door like a damn coward.

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