witchcraft
it's too painful to live but I'm too afraid to die
- Nov 27, 2024
- 221
I don't know where to begin.
My father has been running my life for the past month, telling me when and where I need to be. All in order to help him move across the country now that he decided to suddenly retire.
I show up today to help him with packing all of the stuff he has in the basement. For the first hour and a half, unsurprisingly, he's just projecting all of his frustrations onto me, complaining about his neighbors for the 100th time. So and so is a bitch, so and so is a douche, whatever. Literally the same ol stories about his neighbors I have heard a dozen times; I'm sure he's the problem in at least half of these stories, but I say nothing, I would gain nothing and it would just turn into an argument.
In addition to this, the other hour was him off loading all of his Facebook marketplace decision making onto me. See, he has to sell this and this and this before the move, because he doesn't need these things and they won't fit anyway.
Why am I just volunteered to be secretary? AND therapist? When was I ever asked? Why does he think I know a fucking thing about selling $8000 worth of furniture when I don't even have $800 to my name? Just because I'm under the age of 30 doesn't mean I know the ins and fucking outs of Boomer Marketplace.
When I have ever tried talking to my mom about these things, it's the same useless responses. You're his only son, you know. Welllll he appreciates the help, you know. You know, our parents were the same way.
Am I crazy? Is this how every normal, healthy, well adjusted parent treats their child? With this profound sense of entitlement to their time, and zero respect or consideration for any boundaries?
After helping them (and they did not make it sound like helping them was ever an option), do they say passive aggressive bullshit like "I know how you are, you're late all the time. I need you to be here tomorrow at this time-"
I hate my parents. I don't care anymore; I said it. I hate them. I feel physically ill right now.
I'm 28 years old and I'm a NEET. Naturally since I have nothing better to do, nothing else going on, I have been volunteered to drive 10 hours across the country with my father. I will be stuck with him for ten days until I have to fly back on the 9th of July.
I can't sleep I am so angry and sick to my stomach.
I am tempted to disappear and completely fuck him over and his whole plan. My mind is torn between that and just committing suicide and leaving this all in a note.
Instead, I will show up tomorrow at 2pm. I told him 1pm, and just to spite him I will show up at 2. I will just force myself to dissociate and laugh at how much it bothers him when it literally doesn't matter, all we are doing tomorrow is packing up more of his bullshit and it absolutely DOES NOT MATTER whether I show up at 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or fucking 5.
In fact, I don't even know why I need to be there to help him pack up his shit at all. It's like I'm just there to entertain him, or to give him somebody to vent all his dumbass frustrations to, to serve as an emotional punching bag.
Telling me he has been losing sleep for days because he had to make sure he called the post office and got his mail forwarded to his new address, and that the water / electric would be shut off on the day he moved out, etc.
I'm a NEET who hates working, hates being alive, is actively contemplating suicide, has $15k of student loan debt, trying to figure out if my life is salvageable, if it's worth living, what my options are, This is the shit I lose sleep over. And he is venting to me about how he is losing sleep over selling his snowblower on Facebook Marketplace.
He's all butthurt about having to sell these things for less than what they're worth, and the stress of moving out of his $300,000 house, meanwhile I have literally no fucking future whatsoever.
Holy. Shit. I just can't anymore. I can't.
I hate my fucking life so much. I fucking hate my parents. I hate 90% of my family. I hate myself. I hate being here period. With a bit of self awareness of my own melodrama, I must say, it feels like I will suffer immensely and die before this little father-son saga is over.
Again. I am seriously, seriously considering running away and/or committing suicide in the next 5 days. An entire lifetime of this bullshit, and I've had enough now.
My father has been running my life for the past month, telling me when and where I need to be. All in order to help him move across the country now that he decided to suddenly retire.
I show up today to help him with packing all of the stuff he has in the basement. For the first hour and a half, unsurprisingly, he's just projecting all of his frustrations onto me, complaining about his neighbors for the 100th time. So and so is a bitch, so and so is a douche, whatever. Literally the same ol stories about his neighbors I have heard a dozen times; I'm sure he's the problem in at least half of these stories, but I say nothing, I would gain nothing and it would just turn into an argument.
In addition to this, the other hour was him off loading all of his Facebook marketplace decision making onto me. See, he has to sell this and this and this before the move, because he doesn't need these things and they won't fit anyway.
Why am I just volunteered to be secretary? AND therapist? When was I ever asked? Why does he think I know a fucking thing about selling $8000 worth of furniture when I don't even have $800 to my name? Just because I'm under the age of 30 doesn't mean I know the ins and fucking outs of Boomer Marketplace.
When I have ever tried talking to my mom about these things, it's the same useless responses. You're his only son, you know. Welllll he appreciates the help, you know. You know, our parents were the same way.
Am I crazy? Is this how every normal, healthy, well adjusted parent treats their child? With this profound sense of entitlement to their time, and zero respect or consideration for any boundaries?
After helping them (and they did not make it sound like helping them was ever an option), do they say passive aggressive bullshit like "I know how you are, you're late all the time. I need you to be here tomorrow at this time-"
I hate my parents. I don't care anymore; I said it. I hate them. I feel physically ill right now.
I'm 28 years old and I'm a NEET. Naturally since I have nothing better to do, nothing else going on, I have been volunteered to drive 10 hours across the country with my father. I will be stuck with him for ten days until I have to fly back on the 9th of July.
I can't sleep I am so angry and sick to my stomach.
I am tempted to disappear and completely fuck him over and his whole plan. My mind is torn between that and just committing suicide and leaving this all in a note.
Instead, I will show up tomorrow at 2pm. I told him 1pm, and just to spite him I will show up at 2. I will just force myself to dissociate and laugh at how much it bothers him when it literally doesn't matter, all we are doing tomorrow is packing up more of his bullshit and it absolutely DOES NOT MATTER whether I show up at 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or fucking 5.
In fact, I don't even know why I need to be there to help him pack up his shit at all. It's like I'm just there to entertain him, or to give him somebody to vent all his dumbass frustrations to, to serve as an emotional punching bag.
Telling me he has been losing sleep for days because he had to make sure he called the post office and got his mail forwarded to his new address, and that the water / electric would be shut off on the day he moved out, etc.
I'm a NEET who hates working, hates being alive, is actively contemplating suicide, has $15k of student loan debt, trying to figure out if my life is salvageable, if it's worth living, what my options are, This is the shit I lose sleep over. And he is venting to me about how he is losing sleep over selling his snowblower on Facebook Marketplace.
He's all butthurt about having to sell these things for less than what they're worth, and the stress of moving out of his $300,000 house, meanwhile I have literally no fucking future whatsoever.
Holy. Shit. I just can't anymore. I can't.
I hate my fucking life so much. I fucking hate my parents. I hate 90% of my family. I hate myself. I hate being here period. With a bit of self awareness of my own melodrama, I must say, it feels like I will suffer immensely and die before this little father-son saga is over.
Again. I am seriously, seriously considering running away and/or committing suicide in the next 5 days. An entire lifetime of this bullshit, and I've had enough now.
Last edited:
