New Low

People at work the past couple days how quiet I've been.  That's because of the fight I had at home with My Fucking Father.

All day Wednesday I was thinking about how to move out of the house.  All the times I've sat across from him at the dinner table while not looking directly at him ... my refusal from now on to wash clothes whenever he's around ... bracing for the next time he starts cleaning around the house, or when I go out at night.

I have no idea how I would move out.  I just know that I could not live with a permanent silent treatment we'd be giving each other.  I would have no choice but to accept his offer of offering money to pay for school, but in doing so I would probably take a mile and move out and make him pay for that, too.

Have I ever said this?  I have abandonment issues (I even checked out a website on it at work Tuesday), but I'm also very vindictive.  That's why I've been so resentful and reluctant to leave: If I leave this house, the only house I've ever known, and I do so unwillingly, man, I ain't never comin' back.  I love this place, and if My Fucking Father ever drove me out, I would never forgive him.  Mother too, for that matter.

But maybe I should leave on my own.  Sister told me once that my parents might resent me for still living at home, and I can see that.  Also, my birthday is coming up soon, and I am squarely in middle age -- probably not a time you should still be living with your folks.  Maybe I should get a move on, as hard as it is being out in my own in this cruel world.  At some point, especially if my parents want me to leave, my fear of Real Life doesn't really matter.

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Thinking about my uncertain future based on my crappy relationship with My Fucking Father compelled me to listen to this song and video when I was completing the Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey at the library after work Wednesday.  It's by a duo calling themselves Middle Class Rut.  They were playing at a club called the Triple Rock either in the summer or autumn, and I wanted to go, but I couldn't because I couldn't find free parking around the Cedar-Riverside area.

This is the most depressing song about being stuck in life I've heard in a long, long time.  At my most depressed, "New Low" speaks to me in a way no song ever has:



I'll be honest: Even though I was in a public place, while listening to this twice I had the urge to really, really hurt myself.

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But after I got home Mother needed me to look for hotels close to the Mayo Clinic and My Father and I started to talk to each other and I feel a lot better and now everything's all right.