"For You" 2002-08-22 - 7:00 p.m.

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My parents really bother me sometimes. They're even more pessimistic than I am. And ironically enough it's only for stuff I want. When it's something they're doing, even if it's going badly, they just sigh and go on. But when it's something I'm doing, even if it's going well, they never fail to point out the faults, as many as possible. They can't just be happy for me, they have to make sure that whatever optimism I was feeling is good and stamped out. My outlook on things is fucking bad enough, I don't need them rubbing it in my face, spoiling whatever goodness I can temporarily get. And they must think I'm stupid too. They point out simple stuff, like: 'accidents are bad', 'when you get a car you'll have to pay for it'. And they do it so seriously, like they honestly thought I didn't know that already. And they must think I'm really forgetful too, because they never get tired of reminding me of that stuff. I just want to scream at them: "Do you think I'm stupid?! Do you think I didn't fucking know that already?!! Can't you just relax and let me fucking deal with it?!!!" It just pisses me off so much. I'm more than well-aware of the negatives should anything go wrong. I have that in mind, I know what I'm doing. But apparently my parents forgot that it's actually been 10 years since I was seven. I fucking hate it. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. If I say anything they'll just be like "I'm just warning you" and get all defensive. I've tried. Then they get angry, like they're doing me some great bloody service and I'm ungrateful. Well they can take their pessimistic statements of the obvious and shove them up their ass. They're more pessimistic than all my friends combined, and that's saying something. I don't remember anything I've done where they've been the least bit supportive, they always state the negative points over and over and fucking over. And then weeks or even months later after we've moved onto something else they'll try and act all supportive. Like the next time I'm sick or really depressed they'll be like "you know we love you, I'm all for you starting a band, I don't care if you get a job," and all that. But that's not what they said before, when it mattered. And it won't stop. I could sit them down and tell them all this, talk it out. And then every time I pass them while I'm getting a snack and they're sitting in the kitchen or living room they'll remind me again, like I've forgotten since last time. And then my mom wonders why I stay in my room all the time.

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