anything and everything • randomness one

My dad (TRIGGER WARNING)

Sooooooooo for those of you who don't know, my dad is a gigantic douche to me and is nice to the rest of my family. I don't know why or what I did; he's just a douche.

Two days ago, I went to my grandma's for a birthday thing. We had to paint a shed (I'm sick and said that I'd cough all over the paint and ruin it all, so I didn't do any work) before I had cake and opened presents and all of that crap.
After everyone was done painting, we had hot dogs, brats, beans, chips, watermelon, and stuff like that. I had two hot dogs and a hand full of chips. As soon as I ate half of the chips, I started to feel sick. I knew that nobody would want to touch the chips that I was eating because I'm sick, so I threw them away.
About twenty minutes later, I didn't feel as sick. I just felt a tiny bit sick, but good enough to eat cake before I opened my presents. So we did that. I had two small pieces.
I couldn't even finish one piece before I almost threw up.
I texted my dad. This is our exact conversation.
Me: Can you tell them to hurry? I don't feel good. At all.
Me: Dad please.
Me: ANSWER YOUR PHONE PLEASE ;-;
Me: DAD I FEEL PUKEY AND DON'T FEEL LIKE TALKING I CAN'T ASK THEM TO HURRY UP WITH EATING SO I CAN OPEN MY PRESENTS AND LEAVE
Me: I'm not joking.
Me: Please.
After a while (btw my mom, dad, brother, sister, and I know sign language) he read my texts. He then signed 'Stop being so dramatic, Gabby.' I signed back 'Dad, I'm not being dramatic. I'm about to puke.' He rolled his eyes.
Five minutes later, he FINALLY asked if I could open my stuff. I did and instead of saying thanks to my grandma and grandpa, I signed 'Thank you!' My dad rolled his eyes again and said "Use your words." I looked at him, shaking my head, and made a gagging action to tell him that I would puke if I talked. He rolled his eyes yet again, telling me to speak again. Angry, I quietly said "Thank you." and went on with opening my presents, still speaking quietly with puke in my throat.
We went home 20 minutes later. I took in as much air as I possibly could. By the time we got home, I felt better. In fact, I was having a sugar rush from the cake I had eaten.
My dad looked me in the eyes and said "You were lying to leave earlier, weren't you?" I shook my head and instantly said "No, I wasn't. I felt like I was going to throw up. Stop twisting things so that it seems like I'm a bad person." and went into upstairs and into room. I hid there for about six hours before I walked downstairs to get food. He repeatedly called me a liar and then, (trigger warning here I'm sorry but I must say what he called me) he called me retarded. I instantly grabbed some food and ran upstairs and into my room, pissed off. While I ate, I bawled like a baby. I didn't talk to him for the rest of the night.

The next day, yesterday, he kept calling me a liar and a retard. It was horrible. I opened yet another birthday thing, which is an AMAZING acoustic guitar. He laughed and reminded me that I can't currently play the acoustic guitar. My friend was over, and we went into my grandma's living room (yes, we were at my grandma's house) and started to play my guitar and the acoustic my grandma owns. We played for hours, and my friend taught me some songs. Well, she tried. I played a bit of a few songs. I would play right now, but it's less than an hour until my birthday and don't want to wake anyone up.

Today, we went shopping. I wore a crop top sweater and some shorts. I got a tied in the front black, lacy shirt and a red flannel. I love all of the clothes I wore or bought.

My dad, however, found the worst in my outfit for the day.

He said I look like a slut, said that it's too hot outside for me to wear that, said that I can't wear it because he doesn't approve.

In that very moment, I felt like a piece of property. I felt like a slave who couldn't have their own life, in a way. I felt like nothing more than a possession that my father owns. 

I felt owned by my own dad.

Just to be 'rebellious,' I kept on the clothes I was wearing. He gave me a few glares throughout the day. His words stayed in my head, as if burned into my memory. I kept thinking "I'm nothing more than property to him, am I?"

In less than 10 minutes, it will be my birthday. It'll be my 'special day' that comes once a year. If it is fucked up, I'll never forget it. 

I'm worried. I'm worried that my dad will ruin the time I have by treating me like property. I really hope he won't, but... I can't predict anything.

Happy birthday to myself. I hope it'll be a good one.