This is a non-Navy rant.

To preface this, until Ax and I move in October I am staying at my parents' house. My dad is a huge jerk to pretty much everybody except his mother and my brother.

My mom has a degree in Medical Assisting and is busting her ass to get her foot in the door at a clinic. Right now she works two jobs just to cover SOME of her bills. At the "morning" job, she is quite often verbally abused, taken advantage of, and has office procedures changed on her with no notice--just a reprimand after she does it "wrong'.

Mom doesn't have a whole lot of self-esteem to begin with. Part of this is my dad, and part of it is the depression that runs on that side of the family. (Yes, me too.)

So when she came home last night nearly in tears about what was said to her during the morning, I told her she didn't have to take it. Call someone and report her behavior. The doctor who owns the office doesn't give two shits what the manager does (the mean lady), so going to him will do nothing.

I barely finished the sentence about calling the labor standards office and seeing what kind of path she can take to rectify the situation, and my dad starts yelling about "WHERE THE HELL WILL THE GROCERIES COME FROM THEN??"

Excuse me for trying to be a supportive daughter, when you utterly fail as a supportive husband (and father). The last thing I need is to lose my mom to suicide (and I KNOW she's thought about it before).

This is the first time in several years he's made me cry. For the most part, the hide I have when it comes to him is inpenetrable. But mom and I are clearly no longer people to him, we're just...financial burdens, I guess. Nevermind that HE offered to pay off my car as a wedding gift to Ax and I. HE offered to make some payments on the one loan I took out for school. HE offered to help my mom purchase a new car.

I'll be honest. My dad is obese. When you're pregnant, you kind of have that arched back and you waddle instead of walk, right? My dad walks like that every. day. EVERY day. But insists nothing is wrong.

Maybe my mom would be able to afford groceries if she didn't have to feed six people instead of just three. He eats enough for three people at pretty much every single meal. By Friday, when there should be leftovers, I'm lucky if I even get a handful of french fries (or whatever). I literally have to hoard food in order to make sure I get some.

Dad has been a gigantic jerk ever since my brother was born--and I don't resent my brother for it. It's not his fault, it's my dad. It's like when P was born, I suddenly ceased to exist as a human or as a daughter. I was just another mouth to provide for. I spent years trying to get his approval and his attention. at 17, i finally gave up. Clearly he doesn't want me.


So...rant. When my dad finally kicks the bucket I hope it's painful and he's all alone. I know that if he ever needed 911 in my presence I'd just toss him a phone and tell him good luck. If he can't treat me like a human, I won't treat him like one.