my father also seems to think that I am doing nothing at home, despite doing more that him nearly. I pay for my own clothes, my own things, my own hobbies, birthday presents for people, and all with the 800-900 dkk given to my parents BY THE STATE monthly simply for having children. He keeps saying that when I buy things I am using money given to me by him, but it's like he forgets that they wouldn't even HAVE THAT MONEY if they didn't have children. Those money are given to parents to make sure children can have clothes and pocket money and birthday presents and shit. The only things I don't pay for myself is the toilet paper, the water, and the electricity. And the food. Which I help cook half the time. Which he helps cook 3 times a month. Only reason why I don't help more, is because I go to school more than he works. I leave at half past seven each morning (in a taxi paid for by a fund for people like me, who are autistic and therefore goes to school far away from home, so he can't claim he wastes money driving me to school) and come home at half past three in the evening. He has days where he doesn't even go to work, because of his flex job, because of his multiple sclerosis. and apparently that gives him a right to be some entitled arsehole.
He also claims that he vacuum cleans the living room more often than I do, and yeah, fair deal, since he spends all his time in there. I keep my stuff - including myself - mostly confined in my room, or in my part of the basement workshop room thing. I have all my stuff there, so I clean that place. And that place only. And because of that I am apparently lazy.
Sorry daddy, YOU wanted children. Maybe you should have thought about, I don't know, using a condom? Since I seemingly is just a burden and a waste of money, too slow and lazy, only good when I ignore the fact that you never ever say sorry or thank you. Think about the fact that I never asked to be born. Yeah, it's nice to be here, but don't act like it's my fault for being here. It's your own damned fault.
he also wants me to be a doctor, even though he says he would be satisfied no matter what I do. But he wants me to be a doctor, most likely because he hopes, somewhere in his weird dreams, that I could help find a cure for the damn disease that he keeps using as an excuse. If he used it as a reason for his fuckups, it would be okay. But he uses it as some excuse, some shield from criticism. Well, sad for him. I am not gonna fucking be a doctor. Find someone else to save your sorry ass. I feel sorry for my mother though. Having to see a man she loves turn into this person.
He also really wants me to have children someday. Not because he thinks it would make me happy. But because that is his version of living forever. Because his genes live on and his memory. Sorry, no thanks. First, I have a fucking fear of pregnancy, to the point where I can't be in the room with someone pregnant without nearly fainting. And adoption kinda defies half of his point. So that wouldn't make him happy. Second, passing on my set of genes to a child, NOPE. that child will be predisposed to several autoimmune diseases, several mental diseases (depression, anxiety and possible schizophrenia), and will nearly 100% be autisic. Given my own experince with the last point, no thanks. I don't regret being who I have become, but throwing that in the face of some poor child? No. And adoption defies the point. Also, I will probably never even want to have children.
But yeah, my dad? He didn't want a daughter as much as he wanted a dynasty.
I will never even understand parents, who raise their child to be someone they can be proud of. You should raise a child so that they will be proud of themselves.
he is a good man half of the time. The part of him that I can still call my father. But with time, I see more and more of the parts that I despise, fear, or feel total indifference towards. And in reality, it is not because those parts are more present now. It is because I have learned to see them. I used to believe it when he said that "I only do this because I love you" when he yelled at me for being slow or lazy or hysterical. And yes, I think he loves me, but not as a person. No, he loves me as that little object he created, the object that has some flaws that need to be chopped off. When a puppy barks or whines for attention, you ignore it until it learns to be silent as the pretty toy it is. When it chews on the books you left it alone with for five hours out of boredom and loneliness, you yell at it until it accepts being put aside like the cute toy it is. All because you love it.
Love can be such a disgusting thing.