For as long as I can remember, my “father” and I have had a volatile relationship. The core struggles revolve around power and control. Mainly, he had always wanted to control me and I rebelled against it.

I truly believe there is a missing connection in his brain or something. He lacks the ability to see the world from anyone else’s perspective. He doesn’t believe that other people feel the same feelings that he does. As a result, his emotional reactions are always justified and it is everyone else who is behaving erratically. In his brain and in his view of this world, he is the only person and the rest of the population (including his family) are merely pawns.

Believe me, I hate sounding like I’m putting words into his mouth. But, this man has been my “father” for over 20 years. Things are observed, things are said, and things are not so easily forgotten.

All of this leads me to our fight last night. I have had my struggles over the years, but I’ve worked really hard to become the relatively objective, reasonable, and steady person I am today. I’m not perfect and this is an example of that. Over the past year, I have handled some terrible situations more gracefully than I ever thought I could. There is just something about my “father” that makes me throw all logic out the window and be fueled by pure emotion...

So, my “father” attempted to make frozen pizzas last night. I say attempted because those pizzas came out darker than the cast of the Jersey Shore. The kitchen was filled with smoke and it was an all-around fail. Since I wasn’t interested in having charred pizza, I cleaned our mini grill and started making myself a wrap. My “father” sees me, pulls the plug out of the wall, and demands that I eat the pizza he made or eat nothing at all. I calmly said I was making myself a wrap instead because I preferred that to pizza. When I went to plug the grill back in, my father grabbed me by my arm and I nearly burned myself. I freaking lost it. I immediately attempted to defend myself and push him off. The only reason he let go of me is because my mom walked into the kitchen to investigate the commotion. Everything I’d ever learned in therapy, all the hours of meditation, and all rational thinking just disappeared in that moment. What was said is such a blur because my adrenaline had skyrocketed, but I remember taking the pizza and smashing it on the floor. It wasn’t my most mature moment, but it was quite satisfying. It was a moment made for reality television.

This is where my issue lies. I never behave like that. My typical way of coping with anger is ranting about it and getting it out of my system and then doing something nice instead of something vindictive. When I get in a confrontation with my “father,” I have found I’m unable to do that. I am consumed by so much anger and hatred that I basically lose my senses. I don’t know what to do. I don’t like being out of control like that. I don’t want to jeopardize my own life and progress by doing something reckless out of spite. I guess this is why I’m here. How do I cope with this?

(Quick note: as much as I would love to just move out, I can’t afford to at the moment).