Control. That seems to be the only thing I’ve ever wanted, the one thing I’ve never gotten. To feel like I actually have a say-so in what happens next or where I go… to feel like I can contribute something to my life because after all, it is MY life. I have a dad who always made the rules. Even though they were always stupid and illogical and only benefited him, he ALWAYS got the final say so. And it went from being just small things to bigger things. Where I go to college (a college I pay for COMPLETELY on my own, by the way), how I get to school, (he doesn’t have a car or even gas money for me to get where I need to go) but yet he likes to tell me who I can and cannot ride with. And I know you can’t get everything from this little snippet–I don’t want you to. That’s something I have control over, what you know –and that’s sad, isn’t it? That even when I seek help, I’m so twisted and warped that I withhold information just because I finally can? But it’s for your own good… because if I told you everything, if I backtracked to when everything started going to hell, you’d run for cover. Because the truth is bitter and uncontrolled, and it doesn’t have a face or a name other than truth. I’ve thought about suicide. It seems like there’s nothing else I think about. And you know what the sad part is? I think suicide is stupid and cowardly and not the answer at all. But IT’S ALL I THINK ABOUT. And… I don’t think about it like, “Oh. All the pain and sadness will finally be over. and I won’t hurt anymore” or the other “thoughts” associated with it. I picture myself laying there, dead and still, if not peaceful, and I picture someone walking in on me and seeing me and bursting into screams or tears or–who knows–even smiles. But I picture that person walking up to my unmoving corpse and slowly peeling back my palm to reveal that note I’ve so tightly in my grip of death. And then he/she unfolds it, and they see those seven little words, “Finally. I’ve got it. The final say.” And his/her mouth flies open in shock or pain or utter joy because I’ve done it, I’ve finally done it, and as he/she sits there, speechless, unresponsive, in agony, in so much hurt, I lift up my eyes in hell, and even from its very depths, I smile. Because I’ve got everything I’ve been seeking all along: control.
That’s terrible, isn’t it?
2 comments
a lot of things are terrible, and maybe that’s terrible but i don’t think you are a terrible person. some of my thoughts are so fucking dark that i don’t know if i’m even human (or maybe that’s what makes me human?). but then i remember that i am the result of my genes, my background, etc. and i think, well this is who i am, now that i know this is me, what can i do to be a better person? i’m not saying i understand what you’re going through, i just think you’re judging yourself too harshly man. i hope you find solace somewhere someplace or with someone.
The need for control is inherent to humans. Everyone wants to feel like they are in control of their lives but few feel the need as deeply as you do. You’ve obviously had a domineering and restrictive father, but in the end it’s you that has to decide that you’re through being controlled.
The truth it IS your life, and you don’t have to keep bowing to him. There are many ways to control your life and the first way is by getting away from him. Your father feels incredibly out of control in his own life which is why he feels the need to control yours. He’s dysfunctional, and at his age, is unlikely to change. Because you can’t fix or change him, it’s better to just move on.
Your father needs his own therapy to figure out why he needs to control those around him, but I highly doubt he’ll be willing to go. Stand up for yourself and refuse to be steamrolled by your father. Don’t take it out on others, don’t get angry at the world, shift the blame exactly where it belongs and realize you also have a responsibility in this. It’s up to you to stick up for yourself and act like an adult. If you’re too weak to tell him ‘no’, then things will never get better.
You don’t have to kill yourself just to get back at him. Determine for yourself that you’re not going to let him ruin the rest of your life. If that means cutting contact, then that’s what you do. If it means you need to siphon a little more monetary support before you cut ties, then do so. Take hold of your own existence and stop blaming everyone else for controlling you.