Growing up in an abusive household is a fucking trip dude……If you’ve never had someone angrily wash a dish at you or fold a sock in your direction then how are you gonna understand why I get nervous when you quietly do the laundry, or why I ask “are you mad at me?” when you set the bag of groceries down too hard? It’s a totally different way of living and it impacts you long after you’ve left the situation.
So, I just found out that I can’t take any classes for the summer two semester. It’s not my fault, the only classes in my program that are being offered are ones which I haven’t taken the prerequisites for. I confessed to my boyfriend that I was worried about telling my father that I wouldn’t be taking any courses. Afraid he’d think I was lying or just not listen to reason. Afraid he’d scream at me about how I’m taking my schooling seriously or that I was wasting his time and money. To someone who didn’t grow up cowering in bedrooms while their dad screamed at their mother, or their sister or at them, it doesn’t make sense, but when you grew up in an abusive household (and it’s so hard for me to label it like that) you have to anticipate that anything you say or do could trigger that.
