So here I am. I’m eating left over turkey on a bun with a side of potato chips. Some of these chips are hard and stale tasting, and others are soggy from pickle juice. I am enjoying the first silence that I’ve had today. I woke up to my Dad and Brother arguing for the millionth time about everything under the sun. Six hours later they are finally finished and I can have some peace and quiet to blog, read, nap, or do anything else that I choose.
The arguments are so pointless. My brother keeps trying to say that my Dad abused him. He has such a small view of the picture that is the world. He does not know what abuse is. He thinks that being spanked as a child counts as abuse. I know a lot of people think it is but that was how we were punished. We were only spanked when we deserved it. When my Dad asks him for examples of his alleged abuse, my brother brings up the time that he was messed up from taking too much cold medicine (you know, to get high or whatever). He says that my dad pushed– or threw– him across the room. That’s not what happened. He doesn’t realized that his memories of the event are skewed from the drugs. What happened was, my Dad was yelling at him –for being stupid and taking the drugs– and lightly pushed his shoulder back. My brother lost his balance –because of the drugs– and fell over. The only abuse in this situation is my brother abusing the cold medicine.
Another event that comes up under this topic is something that happened when my brother was somewhere around 8 or 10 years old. I don’t remember the situation exactly because I was little. What I do remember is that my brother was mouthing off or arguing (big surprise) and my dad picked him up by his shirt and started yelling. While this is somewhat violent, I wouldn’t call it abusive.
What my brother never seems to remember in these arguments is all of the things that my Dad has done for him. He forgets all of the stress and hard work my Dad put into making sure my brother would graduate. He forgets all of the times my Dad has fixed his car. He forgets that he gets paid $12 an hour for a $5 an hour job because my Dad knows he needs the money. And he forgets that my Dad still provides for him and gives him a place to live (for free). But my Dad is still a horrible person.
This argument goes on for hours every couple of days. It stresses my Mom out because she hates the arguments. It makes me angry because I cant do anything since all I can hear is the two of them screaming at each other. And last, it upsets my dogs, who are both 100 pounds and will bark at any stranger that approaches the house, to the point where they are hiding under tables and clung to my side.
These arguments don’t do anyone any good. i don’t understand why they continue to happen…