Fennel

[thegiraffe]

It's so ironic how something so small can spark something so huge. I've previously expressed a dislike of fennel (at home). I don't necessarily hate it, but it tastes like licorice to me, and I don't like licorice.

However, when I merely ask if fennel is being used in cooking in a curious, non-aggressive manner because I think I smell it, one would imagine that completely blowing up would be an overreaction. Dad absolutely freaked out...saying that "I don't have to live here" and "I don't have to eat here" etc. I was totally taken aback, understandably, because I just smelled it. When I smell things, I investigate the source. As if the initial blowup wasn't enough, he hollered at me again like 5 minutes later over it. I was like "wait...I thought that was like 5 minutes ago. I thought we were finished with it." His response? "I'm not."

Woah.

He continues TOTALLY overreacting, I politely ask him to stop, and Mom says she doesn't want to hear anything out of either of us for 5 minutes. She says that I asked her about the fennel also, and she told me to ask Dad, and that he blew it way out of proportion. He keeps talking, and I begin crying.

I say "I'm trying SO hard right now to be respectful, and it's difficult because I don't appreciate being attacked for asking a simple question out of curiosity. That's why I left the kitchen earlier so that I could have time to cool down and not blow up."

Dad didn't like that response.

Mom ignores what's going on and continues working on dinner. Two minutes later, Dad's talking to me like nothing ever happened.

I've come to learn a lot about myself in the past several months, and one of them is that I really dislike ignoring the elephant in the room. We don't necessarily need to analyze it every time it shows up, but it'd be nice to introduce or even acknowledge it.

Dad's been cranky today. An hour ago, we had an argument over the length of my pants! I have this gorgeous pair of pinstriped gray wool dress pants that are a little short (they barely graze my heels). I'm very tall and have a length (of clothes) complex as it is because my pants were never long enough as a kid, so I wanted to fix the hem. I fixed one leg and tried them on, and it was perfect. They fell great on my foot with my shoe. Dad starts talking about how the longer length is "wrong" and the shorter one is "right" and how the people I work with will think so too.

Wait. What??

First of all, you don't know anyone I work with or for. Second of all, not everything is black and white (I told him that respectfully, and he fired back that "you're right, but your pants are wrong". Huh??)

It's strange. Dad and I are SO stinking similar, but I cannot stand when he's totally irrational. Everyone has their irrational moments, sure, but I hate when they're dragged on unnecessarily and he's just a jerk about all of it.

I'm just venting, I guess. It frustrates me that I'm 24, educated, and still living at home because of the crappy economy. It frustrates me that I've lost touch with most of my friends. And it frustrates me when I'm not allowed to be upset or angry or frustrated...I'm expected to "deal with it" or "toughen up". Given the opportunity, I'm excellent at handling my emotions. However, I don't do well when I keep being told (either by words or actions) that my feelings aren't important, don't matter, and will not be taken into consideration. I'm sick and tired of being emotionally shut down.

And they wonder why I don't talk to them....

[gremcint]

My parents have been known to blow up at similar things sometimes for no reason. I finally just started telling them where to stick it.

What I would do is talk to them a couple days later and just say that what happened was unacceptable and all you did was ask a question, you didn't mean anything by it and didn't deserve to be yelled at like that, tell them that if there is a problem then they can talk to you rather than just blowing up.

Next time they just blow up at you just simply walk away and go read a book or something just walk away and act like he's not yelling.

As for him acting like nothing happened I will never understand people who's emotions are on a lightswitch.

[MaggieTheCat]

Your parents sound like my parents. They are very opinionated and will tell you exactly what they think about a topic, be it something controversial like gay marriage or something trivial like how to make chili, and if you don't agree with them on it, they blow up and completely overreact. (They actually got into an argument with me over whether or not chili should have beans in it. They were so pissed at me for saying that "real" chili (in Texas) doesn't have beans that they didn't speak to me for 2 days.) It reminds me of your dad yelling at you about your pants because you didn't agree with his opinion on them.

Unfortunately, my best solution is to GET OUT as soon as possible. I know you mentioned that you're living at home due to the economy. Hopefully you won't have to do so forever, because getting out of my parents' house was the best and healthiest thing I have ever done in my life. I recently went back to see them for 10 days and I couldn't believe that I actually lived in that environment for as long as I did; I just about went crazy while I was there. I'm 25, but they still treat me like I'm 3. When I would tell my mom that I was going out, she would immediately blurt, "Well, you have to take a shower and wash your hair before you leave!" Um, excuse me? I know when and how to take care of myself, thank you. Living with my husband (and before that, on my own) is much better.

My parents would absolutely not listen to reasoning, so telling them something like "You need to treat me with respect" or explaining to them (calmly and rationally) why something they said/did upset you would only get you another scream-fest, because they can do no wrong and the reason they upset you in the first place is completely valid so why are you upset over it?

Anyway, I'm sorry you're going through this. Just remember we're all here so if you ever need to, go ahead and vent away.

[Broomjockey]

Start keeping track of everything like this he does. Write it down. As much detail as you can remember. After a week, or two, or less, depending on how long it takes you to get a fair number of examples, go up to him with it, and tell him "These are the times you've yelled at me, and for what. I am 24, these are unacceptable. Read over this, and when you're done, tell me if you think any single one of these was worth screaming over. I'd be surprised if you did. In the future, can you think if you'll still think it's worth screaming over in a few days?"

If he won't even let you go through that, then I'd suggest a back-up plan of handing him an anger management pamphlet. The one thing you cannot do, though, is just let him slide. My mother did similar to me, over an extended period, and I can't talk to her at all anymore. I always just took it because I didn't think I had a choice. I did, but I didn't take it, and now I might as well not have a mother.

[protege]

Sounds like my parents

That's why I no longer live with them. I simply couldn't get away from the noise. After I'd started working, I'd come home from a long day at the noisy office...and get to listen to my mother complaining about something. (Don't know what, didn't care...after 30 years, you'd simply tune her out.) Going up to my bedroom didn't help--the noise not only carried, but usually followed me upstairs as well. She'd get *really* pissed if I closed the door, since "we don't slam doors in this house"

Speaking of "that house," that was another way to start an argument. My mother always felt that because it was her house, she could act that way, and we had no choice. Of course, this was the same person who would bitch if nobody helped around the house. Since it wasn't "our house," why should we? Logic's a bitch, folks I did what I could, but after getting screamed at because the milk was in the "wrong" place in the 'fridge, I gave up. Screw that.

Unfortunately, I can't offer any suggestions, other than moving out. I lived at home until I was 30--the only reason I did that, was so I could save up some cash, and pay off the school loans. Once those were paid off, I started looking at houses...and moved out 3 months after my 30th birthday. What can I say, other than my sanity (or what was left of it) couldn't take it any more.

[draggar]

I've gotten similar responses when I ask if something has nuts in it.

They go from serious concern over if I'm allergic to aggressive "deal with it" with they find out I just don't like nuts.

The same goes with alcohol.

[blas]

You're right at home here with us, just remember that.

When I was younger, I swore I was the only person who had a mother who would blow her top over a drop of a pin. As I've gotten older, I see a lot of people grew up with simply impossible parents.

I just had another run-in with my mom this morning. I am so glad I don't live there anymore, and that I got the hell out of there as soon as I had the means.