awkwardamanda
Well-known member
A few days ago. I had a nasty fight with my family. My mom had just called us all to dinner and then my brother came upstairs and was gonna take off somewhere. My mom asked where he was going and told him to come eat first. She got mad and b!tched that she was standing over the stove in a hot kitchen for an hour and a half and he didn't appreciate her cooking. He said he did but also told her, "I eat lunch at noon. I can't wait six hours. I snack." So he came in and was going to eat. But then as I was getting my food I burnt my hand on the side of the dish. I yelled and swore and went to go wash it off and my dad asked if I was ok. I'm like "no." Then he asked if I touched the hot dish. I got pissy and yelled "obviously, don't ask stupid questions." So we're all yelling at each other and my brother just took off and didn't eat. I was sitting down, about to eat, while my mom's yelling in the other room "I hate what's happened to this family!" My dad gave me this awful dirty look and I told him "don't say a word" and he did anyway. He was yelling at me to grow up and some other sh!t. I got so angry I threw my plate and smashed it on the floor. I've thrown things and slammed doors plenty of times, and even thrown plastic cups full of liquid, but that's the first time I've ever smashed a dish on purpose. My dad kept yelling at me and I stormed off to my room yelling back at him. Then my mom went in there yelling "My good plate! I can't believe this!" A little later I heard my dad say something to her about him not doing anything wrong and I yelled through the door, "You spoke up when I told you not to! You did something wrong!" He has a bad habit of stirring sh!t up again when things are just cooling down. I heard my mom crying all night but I just sat in my room moping. I was too angry to cry. My mom ended up vacuuming up the mess. I would have done it myself if she had left it longer. I was too upset to come out of my room until later. My mom knocked on my door after and told me "Come eat. No one's gonna bother you." So I did, but I didn't even eat what she had cooked. She had put it in the fridge downstairs and I didn't want to go get it cause my dad was there. I was pretty miserable for a couple of days but we just kinda let it go and never brought it up again. I don't care. I don't like to apologize. It's over with. But that's about the only real issue I have that ever shows itself. They don't see me depressed. They don't see me afraid. They don't see me get emotional at all until I blow up. I keep everything bottled and then something sets me off and I snap. And then it just seems like I've got a temper and I just need to "grow up" and not be such a b!tch. It isn't that simple.
