Why Don't you get another job, so you're not around here anymore? Why don't you go do something mindless on the computer? Why don't you get an education or something? get a life.
Get a life.
Get a life.
Get a life.
Loser.

I don't put up with it much. Not nearly as much as I used to, thank god for the job that saved me from that, and my sudden birth of a social life. I manage to stay away from it most of the time, and this is helpful. It helps, in baby steps. and, like the person suffering from depression that I am, I can only take baby steps. Leaps and Bounds leave me running into walls face first.
So, In a way, I shouldn't complain about this anymore.
But all it takes is the tiniest "Ugh, what the hell are you watching now?". Like I've never heard disgust and contempt in a voice before. You couldn't use anymore. Like I'm the fucking anti-christ for watching a show, like everyone else in North America does.
All it takes is the inevitable start of the Running Commentary, by he who we do not deserve to stand up to, he who we are not allowed to share a room with, let alone a woman. He to whom i owe everything to, whos intelligence is unmatched...
wait. thats not right. Last time I checked, he was an farm-boy turned car-saleman turned driving-instructor... He's smart?

I don't know why he bothers me so much. I know what he does is classified as Emotional and Verbal abuse, minus a few curses, such as Fuck, and Bitch, and Slut, and all those. add those in, and I'm sure all that would be missing is the mass quantities of alcohol most people need to beat on someone they're legally related to.
What can I do?
Nothing.
Because I only get it once a week on average now, as opposed to going through it every night of my life, from eight years on to the year I got my job. my saviour.
I have no right to complain anymore, it seems.

So I stay quiet, refusing the almost over-powering urge to stand up to him verbally whilst throwing the remote at him, hopefully spilling his drink all over him. I stare at the TV, forgetting his presence. He's not really there. He's not human anyway, why should I acknowledge him?

people say all these things, make these suggestions. But it's not as good as releasing a can of whoop-ass. something I've never done. I can't hurt a single person on this planet, except for Bush. I could kill him no problem.
Gord is Bush.

Suggestions are only suggestions. they're only words.
They're only words.
But they hurt like hell from someone you know you can not escape from. It's not like a highschool bully. Eventually you graduate. you never see them again.

This man married my mother.

I can't run from that.