My Money

Just talked to Dad. Did not end well.

I told him I needed to recharge my bus-card, because I had like, 1 cent left. He was in my room. "Why don't you pay for yourself," he said, "You have so much money." So I told him I had $600 left in the bank, and I didn't really want to put in $50 to pay for my bus fare. I don't know why, but all of a sudden he became threatening.

"$600? BUT YOU HAD $1000 BEFORE. THAT WAS 3 MONTHS- NO, NOT EVEN 3 MONTHS AGO. WHERE DID ALL YOUR MONEY GO?"
"I don't know... food and stuff?"
"FOOD, AS IF YOU COULD SPEND THAT MUCH ON FOOD. IT'S IMPOSSIBLE. TELL ME, WHAT DID YOU SPEND IT ON?"

Poker, cocaine and a truckload of hookers.

"I didn't spend it on anything big. I don't know where my money went. Food, books, presents for friends..."
"OH YEAH, WELL HOW MANY OF YOUR FRIENDS HAD A BIRTHDAY, HUH? WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME."
"It's $20 for food every time I go out, more if I want to see a movie or something..."
"YOU ARE ABSURD, SPENDING THAT MUCH MONEY. $400! DON'T LOOK AWAY, TELL ME WHERE YOU SPENT IT."

...Well someone obviously doesn't know food prices. I don't enjoy being interrogated about where/ how I spend my own money.

"FINE, I'll pay for my own stupid bus fare. LEAVE, NOW."

Dad stays in my room, staring at my computer screen, refusing to move. I generally feel that my privacy and personal space is invaded when people stare at my computer screen. Moreover, he was  in my room. So me, being the unhappy person that I am, told him to "Get out, NOW."

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And that should have been the end of that. Except when I think about my spending, I don't see why any of it is unjustified. Sometimes I see an expensive book--- if I want it, I get it. That was the whole idea of me getting a job last year. Rather, 2 jobs. I was working 2 jobs with 7 subjects at school. No wonder I failed so badly. I just wanted to not feel like the poor sob I sometimes see myself as. Our family's financial circumstance isn't even bad. Much higher than average, actually. Except I distinguish clearly between my parents' money, and my money. As a result I try to spend as little of their money as possible, and I think of it as a large debt I'm accumulating. Sometimes I dream of throwing them a couple of million dollars and never contacting them again.

So it's quite insulting, when Dad tries to tell me how to spend my money. Mine. The only reason, as I've remembered just know, that I've spent so much, is because I've hardly asked him for ANYTHING. I paid for my own clothing, food, notebooks, pens--- all the common things. He gives me $2 every Thursday to go play badminton. Sometimes I pay for myself. Sometimes I don't even go.

So I ended up paying for my own bus fares, and I don't know whether I'll have to pay for my driving lesson tomorrow. If I have to, I'm cancelling it.

Thinking back... I don't think I'd ever really wanted a job until college. Dad had always wanted me to get a job in high school though, comparing me to all my friends. Then when I finally found one in college, he complained about it taking up too much of my time, and how it detracted from my grades. He kept on telling me to quit, saying that the money isn't worth it, and if I ever need anything, he'll get it for me. Well, it's clear enough that my needs, he can't fulfill--- his behavior disgusts me. That's why I used my money. Because even if I spend a lot, at least it has nothing to do with anyone else.

...Now he's complaining about me spending too much. Not even complaining. Enraged. I'm thinking quite a few rude things in my head. Controlling someone's money against their will is considered a form of domestic abuse, right?

I feel as if I've forgotten how to breathe. My stress level has just peaked, after my exams. Oh, life and its wonders.