bcoskin

I'm angry today. I slept like a normal human for the first time in a long while, and woke up feeling pretty hopeful about the day. I went downstairs to see that the living room had been rearranged, and a ton has been cleaned in the other parts of the house.

However my day took a very steep downhill turn when I got a huge headache. If I forget to take my medicine for a day, I pay for it with headaches, but usually a single pain killer and a normal dose of my medicine to get me back on track will do the trick in a few hours.

So I went up to my room and opened my desk. My pills are gone. I had about 50 assorted painkillers, mostly Darvocet and Lortab. My fucking dad stole them all out of my room. He also took my Rx sleeping pills, and muscle relaxers. I'm no pill junky, but I do like to have those things around for when I need them. That's why I had so many... I rarely need them. I am pissed beyond words right now. The worst part about it is, that I can't do a thing about it. I wasn't supposed to have the pills in the first place - so there's nothing my mother would do. He won't mention it to me because he's going to use every bit of what he found within a week or two. I'm more than sure he's on the muscle relaxers right now as he's downstairs cleaning. He'll use the sleeping pills every night to go to sleep until their gone. And pop 2-3 of the Darvocets and wash them down with the 151 proof rum he drinks like water. He's always making noises like he's in pain. He's very overweight, jobless for more than 5 years now and living off my mother. I wouldn't be surprised if the bulk of his problems were caused by the huge amounts of medicine he takes, his alcoholism, and his big lazy ass. A body isn't made to handle blood pressure medicine, anti-depressants, 3 or more narcotic pain killers, muscle relaxers, and 1/3 bottle of rum nearly every day.

I'm really upset right now. I'm mad as hell at for him stealing from me... snooping around my room. EVERYTHING I own that is incriminating was kept in my desk because he had always preached about giving me my privacy. Well I guess that's gone to hell. Cigarettes, Playboys, Whip-It's, condoms, switchblades... half a bottle of Jack Daniels. He leaves it all alone and just pockets the pills. That's sick.

I hate to see him kill himself like this. But right now I can't think of anything but how my dad just stole from me... that and waiting till he leaves to raid the fuck out of his medicine cabinet. He crossed a line. Maybe he needs the pills more than I do. But there are things called personal possetions. I have overlooked a lot of things he has done. He pawned my guitar, he gives away my possetions and acts like a fool in front of my friends and other family. Right now I am just not in the mood to deal with another thing. For the first time in my life I want to get the fuck out of my house and the fuck away from these people. My home is no longer comfortable.

I'll calm down soon. But I needed to rant very badly. Even with all that I didn't get a tenth of it out. I'm so mad. If my head weren't pounding I would go for a walk, but all I can do is lie down on my floor and hope to stop feeling so horrible.