Stressed and Frankly Quite Pissed Off

I've never had an all-out rant on my blog before, on topics other than miscellaneous things that bother me. But I think this is a good place for my to type out my feelings angrily and also get the satisfaction of more people on my flag counter and hopefully some sympathetic comments.

I am going on a BIG TRIP in a couple of days, a trip that concerns a lot of preparation safety-wise, including registering the trip under the US Embassy, getting medication into my system, packing, and emergency contact information because in a place like Vietnam and Cambodia, getting mugged isn't something you see in a PSA about not talking to strangers; it's real life. Between working, logging volunteer hours of about 20 hours per week, and stealing some chances to see friends before I leave, I have been extremely stressed about absolutely everything. My dad just makes it worst.

The thing with my dad and I is, we are very much alike. That is probably the primary reason why we fight so much. A lot of the time we misunderstand each other, and we're both too stubborn to admit it, or won't admit to ourselves that the other person may be correct. But this fight wasn't about stubbornness on my part at all. Over the years, I have learned more or less to back down or at least dig my fingernails into my arm to let out my anger rather than screaming bloody murder about how wrong he is.

This time, the fight was about registering the trip. I was having trouble with it because I didn't have enough specifics, and so I asked my mom. Then he starts yelling at me about the following untrue and completely ridiculous aspects:

-I am too lazy to do anything myself and I want everything handed to me. I wanted the kill him. All I could do was stare at him in confusion because that's completely false. Sure, the helped me with some stuff, but not to the extent of having to do everything for me.


-Even though I didn't know the specific address of the Cambodian hotel we would be staying at, I should put down a random one anyways. Okay, that was completely stupid. The whole point of registering a trip to an embassy was to notify them of my location in case I was in trouble. How would a fake address help?


-That I shouldn't put all my information regarding the trip in a flash drive, but put it in a folder just like he does. I wasn't even planning to, but who is it going to hurt if I do? If I want to use a flash drive, I'll use a flash drive, and my dad had better like it. 


In conclusion, my dad pissed me off tonight because he won't stop to try to understand that I don't understand, and stop with the attitude of "my way or the highway". He's contradicting himself by saying that I need to do everything myself, yet he wants it to do it exactly the way he does.