Emotionally Deficent

Looking back, I've always had problems with my parents. We've learned about it in school for as long as I can remember, the signs of a dysfunctional relationship. Even so, an uneasy and disturbed feeling traveled down my spine when I began to except the fact that my relationship with my parents, mainly my father, was far from desireable.

Logistically, my life isn't bad. I live in a middle class neighborhood, go to a good school, and have never gone hungry. This situational dissonace makes it harder for me to even examine the disgust I have towards my father. My parents have never beaten me, though I have gotten a few cuffs in the face, but my father's emotional abuse has left far deeper scars than any back hand.

I'm not sure when exactly it started but I think by now, I have pinpointed the times he is at his worst.
No one can disagree with him. His view is the right view, no matter what, whether it's politics or something as insignificant as how I set up my room.
He claims to be an idealist that's fair to everyone yet at the same time shuts down any idea that doesn't line up with his own. Deep down, he's a hypocrite, calling out faults of mine that he has as well. Asking why I hate him while swearing at me and calling me the scum of the earth.

My father's always incredibly close minded, no matter what he might think. He often criticises my habits, yet who has raised me to aquire these habits? Who was the main influence that caused my problems with socialization? Who was the one who caused my negative view on the world?

He always has a...shall we say unique way of encouraging me? Mainly saying how I'll be a failure and live in the slums and he'll always be a social class above me. There's always something wrong with me, and how it'll lead to me being jobless and on the streets.

All in all, I think the thing that causes his immaturity and cruelty is his complete lack of empathy.

I play the cello, it's something I very much enjoy even though I don't plan on pursuing it as a major in college. Yesterday, my parents went off on how I have wasted their money with my cello lessons. How I just play around and that I haven't even gotten any skill out of it (I recieved an 'Outstanding' on level 6 Nissma).
To me, however, it wasn't just about the cello. My cello teacher is one of those few people in the world who is genuinely nice to everyone. He encourages me on little achievements, enjoys conversing and debating with me on things I'm interested in like history. Basically the dream father that I wish I could have. And now my parents wanted me to leave him.
I make a point to cry as little as I can physically help. I like to keep a straight face, heck, I even pride myself on it sometimes. But this time, it was one of those moments where the tears come up so fast that I simply couldn't stop them. Even as I was sobbing they kept on commenting on how I was just toying around and how I used their money for something completely worthless. I kept crying for them to stop and finally I had to say "I get it, I get your point, isn't that enough?" to get them to finally shut it.
I then went to the bathroom to cry so that neither of them had to see.
Guess how much they seemed to care.

Today, I had chamber ensembles at a local music school. My usual cello is in for repairs so I had to use an older and less competent cello. I haven't touched it in years so I wasn't quite sure where it was.
My father asked why I didn't have it ready yet and I said that I wasn't sure where it ended up and was looking for it.
Almost immediately he exploded into a tirade about how I can't do anything right and that everything I touched broke.

After chamber ensembles, another incident occured. We have a pretty small computer room. It's shaped in a rectangle with a computer set up at either end, so my father and I have to sit back to back while we use the computers. He's actually sitting with his back to me right now as I write this, ironic isn't it?
I came in and slipped on a piece of paper, causing the rolling chair to be knocked against the wall and my metal ruler to crash to the floor. Guess what came next. He exploded, asking why I was the one who always ended up knocking this over, and how I had no right to think that I was competent in anyway.

Thanks Dad, way to be a concerned parent.

Even though I clustered a few incidents (leaving out many others) together, this doesn't happen every day which in a way, is the worst part of it. I'd have mixed feelings for my parents because there are some really really bad days and some fairly peaceful ones. My sense of empathy is the polar opposite to my parents. I have too strong a sense of empathy, I can't watch reality television; even though I hope to become a writer and love reading, I have an extremely rough time reading stories with family drama (Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe anyone?). I can't help but feel sorry for my father when he's being isolated because my mom is also aware of what a jackass he is. I don't want to feel sorry, and that sympathy evaporates the moment he starts howling at me again, but it always comes up on some of the quieter days.

I've had problems with my mother, but she's more classified in the "our personalities are different but we'll work things out" category. I get angry at her sometimes but no more than I'd suspect an average teenager would. However, there are moments when I seriously resent her. I'm an only child and sometimes it seems like she gangs up on me with my father.
I want to talk to her but she doesn't share these feelings. I don't know what she thinks but I doubt she realizes the full extent of how hurt I am.

It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I genuinely hate my father. I feel bad saying that as I have seen and read stories of people whose parents beat them or worse. But even so, the emotional toll has come down hard on me. I'm seventeen and a senior in highschool. I have a huge fear of change due to moving around constantly in my childhood, the biggest one being from China to the US. I have no family here except for my parents so there's no grandma or aunt and uncle to comfort me. I have spoken with a graduate student who was training to be a counsler at my school once, I will always be grateful to her for the sympathetic ear she lent me. I fear the massive jump from high school to college but I have to remind myself that it's the first step to breaking away from the father that I hate. I worry for my mom though, we have our problems but I feel she has always loved me more even though I have periods where I feel neither of my parents care about me. She says she wants to divorce him as soon as I'm in finished with my higher educaiton.

I have found ways of distracting myself though. I watch a great deal of anime, the ones where the character's problems are on a tremendous scale. It sets my imagination on fire and helps me forget about my own problems. It fuels my passion for writing and my dream to become an author. I love to draw as well and concentrate hard on my AP Art class. These things are creative, their moldable, there's no set template. They're completely different from my father who can't seem to comprehend the things I want to do with my life.

I just wanted to get all of this out, if nothing else, it'll be a way for me to face the reality of how I feel towards myself and my family.
kayshen kayshen
Feb 7, 2013