Breaking Dishes - Literally.

About 2o minutes, ago, my dad started taking all weird about how he didn't know he was invited to eat dinner with us all for mother's day tomorrow. I told him he was weird. And that's when it started.

He shook his head and said, "You complain about everything. Every single thing."

I nodded. Said, "Mm-hmm." I was thinking to myself, Erin, what are you doing?! he's going to freak out oh my gosh stop.

My dad kept saying "Keep your mouth shut."

I didn't say anything. I SMILED at him. I was screaming at myself inside of my head, but some force was acting in me, daring me to just keep it up.

He kept telling me to keep my mouth shut again and again, and then? Then?

He stood up, grabbed his dishes, and threw them into the sink like a frisbee.

They broke into pieces.

"You little sixteen year old girl disrespecting your father!"

Cue the walking upstairs and slamming the door.

I was still smiling when he left. Then he came back down and got his coat and said he was going to the store and left; in my head I was just begging him to put a hand on me so I could finally blow up at him for something that you can't hide behind smiles and "You imagined that, Erin." But anyway, when he came down, I was all smiles. Because I realized something, and I told my mom.

I said, "The more you realize how pathetic the people who are trying to hurt you are, the less they can hurt you."

Anybody who has to treat others terribly just to feel better about themselves is pathetic.

I said, "Mom, my dad is a pathetic little boy in the body of an older man."

She defends him, you know. Typical relational abuse stuff, I know, I've tasted that bitter drink myself.

Then we had a conversation and I was telling her that maybe he left to go kill himself.

And she's like, he's not like that.

I said, "Yeah, he's just one to break dishes."

My mom goes, "I've broken dishes sometimes, but I didn't want to kill myself."

I said, "But you did. You told me."

Because she did one time. We almost got into a car accident. We almost both died. I haven't told that little tidbit of my life to many people - maybe only one friend of mine who saw me right after it happened. But it did happen. Except my mom didn't remember it. But my mom was like, "Not everyone wants to go and kill themselves you know."

Except, no. I don't know. See, I've been around the threat of suicide my whole entire life. My sister tried to kill herself, my mom used to cry about wanting to die, my dad always says he can't wait to die, my brother jokes about suicide, my friends have been to that point, etc etc etc. I was raised around the constant looming threat of suicide.

I frequently hear people discuss their wishes to die.

My mom looked at the dish he broke and said it was one of her favorites.

Immediately I wanted to clobber him until he couldn't break anything, not the dishes, not our hearts, anymore.