This morning I snapped at my father.

I woke up from a decent sleep ready to begin my day with chores and leisurely activities.

I slept in the office room, where my father and step-mother do most of their bill payments and planning to include emails and printing.

When I began to fold my blankets my father came into the room and commented on my choice to sleep on the floor.

“Do you really like sleeping on the floor?” he asked.


I proceeded to Jake and Jayden’s room, my little brothers (from my father’s line), and shuffled through some of my laundry to find some clean clothes. My fathered followed.

“Are you okay?”

Here we go again…

“I noticed around the house you seem stressed, not well. The way you look around, and sometimes when Jake and Jayden talk to you, that way you look at them.”

I can’t believe this manIs he fucking stupid? He’s asking me if I’m okay? Of course, I’m not okay you dumb fuck. I’m paranoid. I’m stressed. I have headaches. I have night terrors. I have nightmares. Man can this guy get a clue? 

“Not, I’m not okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“From what? Things you saw in the Marine Corps? Did you have something going on before?

“I don’t know. I’m not really sure.”


“Why don’t you tell me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I don’t remember what followed next, but he kept prying, repeating himself and asking questions that I really didn’t feel like answering. It felt like he was acting as my psychologist.

I yelled, I shouted loud enough that the neighbors probably heard me.

He got upset, and I was boiling and I could feel the temperature rise in my veins.

“You talk too much! You’re a narcissist! A control freak! G-d dammnit!”

“Not listen here! I have done everything to support you and offer you help. Now I got to speak.”

My mind became foggy, cloudy, and I started to feel more rage build up in my neck and shoulders.

I wanted to punch him, grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall, but I remembered, “You must honor your father and mother.”

I went downstairs and headed out the door because I couldn’t take his bullshit anymore. I went on a walk.

I walked for four hours around the neighborhood passing all the schools I went to in my childhood. Aliso Niguel, Wood Canyon, Don Juan, I passed through three stages of my life in the course of four hours.


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