Problems

Warning: This post is going to be unreasonably long. But I need to get this stuff out before it poisons me.

Any of y'all ever have problems with your parents? (Trick question: if any of y'all are alive and reading this, then I know you have.)

But how many of you have problems with your parents stalking your every move via social media? I do.

My father sees nothing wrong with keeping track of every little thing I do by following my Twitter and my Facebook. (Thankfully, he doesn't know what Tumblr is, nor does he know that I have a blog.)

Take Matt's birthday, for example. When I posted the picture to the left on Instagram (and, through Instagram, Facebook), my mother immediately texted me and said, "Your dad just showed me the pic on fb - i dont like it!" And so I had to take it off of my Facebook. It's Harley and Joker. It was a superhero (and by extent, villain) themed party. I was proud of the outfit we'd put together. But my father, who had no idea who Harley was, didn't like the "skull makeup" I had on as it was "disrespectful."


Okay. Maybe I can give that one to him. He had no idea who I was. I only had my face painted, after all; Harley's whole body is a corpseish white. All right.

The other day, I was scrolling through Facebook and found a pretty funny picture that popped up on my newsfeed because a friend liked it. I clicked "like" on it as well. Not three minutes later, my father goes, "LAUREN. Did you see this?" And he pointed out the name of the page to me. The G-D Batman. 

"I did not. I just saw the picture. Eddie liked it, and I found it hilarious so I liked it as well." 

"When you like things like that you're showing a side of yourself that isn't very Christian. Get rid of it." (Read that in an angry, condescending tone, like he's talking to a two-year-old.)

So I had to get on my computer and go track down one little picture I'd liked and get rid of it. I understand, but he certainly didn't have to flip out about it and scream at me. (He was yelling. And then he told me not to yell [which I didn't] when I tried to explain I hadn't seen the name of the page. He couldn't understand how I could be "so blind as to not see that.")

Yesterday, three vinyl stickers that I had been waiting forever for (okay, about a week) had arrived in the mail. I gave Matt his Joker one (he loved it) and went to put the other two on my car. They were a Hylian Crest (put on the driver's side back windshield) and the symbol from FullMetal Alchemist (put on the passenger's side back windshield.) I put the picture through an app called PhotoGrid and put it on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr.

My younger sister sends me a text about fifteen minutes later. "Be prepared for dad to be mad at you." 

"Why?"

"You put stickers on your car. He wants your car to remain 'professional.' And he doesn't like the FMA symbol."

Now, I'm a bit confused. It's my car. I assumed, therefore, that I could do things to it without being attacked. And the FMA symbol? It looks like a caduceus, a medical symbol. It's from a manga. I have several Christian friends who read the manga and watch the anime as well. Hunter does. Tiffany does. So if I want to show my fandom off to the world, just like these people do, it's suddenly inappropriate? I don't understand.

Now, if I'm not at home, my sister stays up in her room 99% of the time, only emerging for school and for supper. She can't stand being around my father, because he's always nitpicky. And since his job ended, he's always been around. He rarely goes out and does anything, and I think it's starting to wear on my mother. I know my sister has been done with him ever since he started questioning her on the way she dressed (SHE DRESSES LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, JUST WITH MORE SWEATERS) and the music she listens to (classic rock and Christian music). He doesn't understand why she doesn't want to be around him. 

I do. She's sick of being picked apart by him, by being yelled at for little things. 

When I dyed my hair a few weeks ago, just the underside, my dad flipped. "THAT'S NOT PROFESSIONAL. I HOPE YOU HAVEN'T DAMAGED YOUR HAIR. THAT BETTER NOT BE PERMANENT. WHAT ABOUT INTERNSHIPS?!"

I'm only nineteen. I'm a sophomore in college. I'm at least a year or two away from being able to get internships IN CLASSROOMS WHERE I WANT TO TEACH. I have NEVER done anything with my hair before, and I wanted to do something fun. 

Looks like I'm not allowed to have fun. My body isn't my own. 

I want to get a tattoo, of a Hylian Crest (as pictured by my car vinyl to the left), on my left shoulder blade. But I know I can't do that until after I get married, because I want a strapless wedding dress and my parents would kill me if I got a tattoo. Which is why I can't tell them about Matt's tattoo. (He has Hal Jordan on his thigh.) It's my body, isn't it? Can't I do what I want without having every single thing questioned?

 Then there's the fact that he keeps track of the Aleve I take when I'm at home. You see, during my period, I get cramps. It's natural. It happens. To keep from saying, "I'M BLEEDING INTERNALLY AND NEED MEDS" to my father, I simply say, "I have a headache" when he asks me why I need medicine. (I'm NEVER asking him where it is. I ask my  mother, and my dad - who's three rooms away - asks WHY ARE YOU ASKING FOR PILLS?!) When he hears me pour out the same number of pills the next day, he asks, "YOU STILL HAVE A HEADACHE?! DO WE NEED TO TAKE YOU TO THE DOCTOR?!" (And yes, he's yelling this whole time.)

I ignore him and I go upstairs. He thinks I'm becoming a drug addict.

I swear. If I didn't have a job, I wouldn't go home on the weekends. I'd stay here in Montevallo. I'm actually enjoying myself this year. I have great friends and an awesome boyfriend. 

Matt's actually the only reason I'm able to stay sane most of the time. My father is getting worse and worse. Matt holds me and tells me that it's not my fault.

It's okay that I like reading books that aren't meant for second-graders. It's okay that I want to express my individuality by wearing comic book shirts and the like. It's okay that I want to dye my hair blue.

Matt's always supportive. If it wasn't for him, I probably would've had a mental breakdown months ago and would've had to go get some psychiatric help. 

Of course, my father thinks Matt's responsible for all of my "changes." He can't seem to fathom that I'M GROWING UP and want to CHANGE. I'm not the same little kid any more. I want to break out of my shell. I want to get away from what I've been most of my life. I haven't liked myself too much in the past.

Now, though, I'm able to try and do what I want. I need to experience the world. I want to get out there and do things. I want to change. I don't want to be stuck as the same little Lauren I've always been. There are things I want to do. I can't stay in my house forever, and my dad doesn't seem to understand that. He wants me to be quiet and complacent at all times. He doesn't want me to grow up. And yet when I act like he wants me to - the kid who doesn't go out - he wonders why I won't grow up. It's really starting to make my head hurt.

Anyways, I'm sorry for this long rant, guys. I know it's long. It's extraordinarily long, and I know I don't do long posts any more. I just needed to get all this out. Hopefully someone out there will see this post and talk to me. I just need someone to talk to.