I Just need to Rant for a moment here

I was just surfing through my tumblr dashboard when I came past a post that says

'reminder that no one is required to love their parents because a lot of people do have genuinely shitty parents and if you invalidate people’s feelings about their toxic parents i’ll probably punch you in the throat
-Having sex that results in a kid does not equal respect'

There were two different people on this post and within a second of reading I reblogged it without a question. I mean, my parents aren't the worst people on the planet obviously, and i love my mom so much. I have nothing against her.

My parents are divorced and they have been since March 9th 2007. My siblings and I went back and fourth between two different houses for about a year before my dad could no longer afford to live in the house we had. We needed to pack up our things and put our objects is storage, even though i wanted a lot of my things to go to my moms and for good reason because when i got them out all of my snowglobes were broken but wow tangent.

We moved in with my dad's parents, my grandparents. To begin with I wasn't that excited about living with them because all the times when I had slept over with my sister they had always had really different rules than my house. One time when I was staying over i was trying to do my math with a calculator and my grandmother took it away from me and told me to do my division and multiplication with out it. I was 9 and during math class I would sit at the back of the class room with the TA and the other kids who didnt do well in math. We were allowed to use calculators for our homework. When i told my grandmother that she told me I was wrong and that I could do it without a calculator because I'm not stupid.

Now being 9 and not being able to know how to do my math without a calculator becuase my brain doesn't work that way is bad enough when I'm told I'm stupid if I have to use my calculator by my flesh and blood.

So now fast forward after this incident to when we moved in for an indefinite amount of time. I wasn't thrilled. They had internet though so i couldn't complain. The first night there was a breeze, I basically showed up did my homework got changed and went to sleep because i was busy packing all day. The next day is where things turned to shit.

It was a friday and I remember that it was 10:30 and my sister and brother were going to bed. I wasn't tired and wanted to go back on the computer. My dad and Grandparents argued with me so i agreed to compromise and put on my pjs. I grabbed my jeans to find out they were dirty and then my grandmother got me shorts. I went to put them on but she asked what i was doing for a shirt. I told her i was going to wear the one already on me. Like i normally do. She told me I couldn't do that because 'thats not how things worked here'. I argued against her saying i always did it at home why did it have to be different here?

She just told me it wasn't allowed but never gave a solid reason. Then i went to go out to the garage to get a clean shirt because i was 1000% done. My grandmother asked where i was going and i told her 'the garage' and she asked why. and I said "That's where my dresser is, im going to get a new shirt." and guess i was so done that i said it in a sassy tone or something because my dad got pissed.

Pissed like i had never seen.

His face turned red as he got out of the computer chair and I backed up. He told me not to talk to my grandmother that way. I'm a little fuzzy on what happened, but I remember him reaching out at me and then being forced back, and falling against a chair. My dad claims to have just nudge me.

I was really done at that point because I was crying, i was scared and i didn't want to be there. I remember telling my dad

"You're lucky that mom's got a party tomorrow other wise i would call her and go live there."
dad: Whats her having a party tomorrow have to do with it.
me: because she's probably asleep right now or busy!

I remember my dad yelling something else at me as i walked up from the basement over to the garage door. I don't remember what he yelled but i remember he yelled something. The next thing I said was when he stood right in front of me. I had my grandpa's shoes on ready to go grab myself a shirt and i looked at my dad, with tears and said.

"Get me the phone. I'd rather live with mum."

Then boom, I called my mom packed a bag and stood at the end of the street waiting for my mom to get me. In the dark. By Myself. Though it was and elderly neighbourhood. I went to my moms house that night and then the next night of her party my dog and i both went to my friends house and hung out there. It was all good in the hood until... Wednesday came.

My parents have this odd custody arragement where my mom gets us all mon, tues, and every other week and and my dad gets us wed, thurs. Tuesday night my mom had told me "You're dads picking you up from school tomorrow, he's going to talk to you, and you dont have to go to his house if you want, but you should talk to him."

I remember crying and it got hard to breathe because I didnt want to see him. I was scared. That day he brought me back to his parents house, which he wasnt supposed to do, and then he asked me what MY problem was. Why did I want to live with mom suddenly?

it wasnt really a sudden decision i mean, i remember one time when my dog ate out of the garbage and my dad hit her i called my mom and the dog went to live with her. I wanted to go that day. I just don't know why i didn't. My dad asked why I was suddenly too scared to even come inside the house blah blah blah.

I told him he pushed me and he told me that was bullshit.

I told him i wanted to go back to moms so he called and I waited for her again. I remmeber this time while i waited he told me that my friends weren't scared of their dad. I shrugged at his statement because i knew them well and their dad and they never told me anything like that. the last person i would believe on this planet for anything is my dad.

I don't tell many people that story because I've had friends tell me that I was being melodramatic, and that my dad's not that bad, or that he's a good guy, or that he seems nice, etc. But they weren't there that night i left. They didn't see how mad or scary it was.

since then i have lived with my mom, full custody, and i would occasionally go to see my dad.

This summer my sister and i grew pretty close because my dad started to get real bad with her now. He was getting crazy over protective and telling her that she couldn't date this guy who shes dating anyways. He would follow her around and have friends of his watch her and tell him what she was doing, I honestly think he's gone psychotic. I'd go to my dads to hang out with her.

Anyway I last went there nearly two weeks ago, and I was making myself dinner, salad. My dad started going on about how i should make salad for everyone. I pointed out how everyone else already had a bunch of food to eat and this was for me and if he wanted some he's over 50 he should know how to make his own salad.

He started going on about how next im i should bring my own this and own that and own bowl and lettuce ad dressing and crutons. I was pretty much done with this bullshit because i was trying to eat my dinner at this point and he was pissing me off.

"Maybe next time I just won't come over," I said. My sister heard it, my brother heard it, my dad and his girlfriend all heard it.
"Oh no," my dad said sarcastically. "I wont have to clean up after you, or point out water bottle's you've left around."

I took that as he doesnt care if i come to visit. I'm a burden. He's indifferent to seeing me.
So i didn't go last week.

I don't plan to go to his house again until december when its my birthday or christmas because the rest of my family will be there and want to see me.

I am sick and tired of certain friends i have telling me that i should like my dad because he's my dad. I hate it when someone tells me 'well he's your dad you only get one' wrong because i have a step dad and though he's annoying 95% of the time, he doesn't yell at me and he doesn't shove me into chairs violently. He pushes me jokingly and i do the same to him.

i'm sick of people telling I should love the man who struck so much fear into me when I was 13 that it caused me to breakdown in my living room, and telling me that well it was my fault or Iwas being dramatic, or its not that bad because yea to you it might not be that bad. You're dad could be way worse and you still might love him cause he's your dad but i can't find it in my heart to do it.

And I don't think I should have to.

sorry this blog was so long.