I understand that my parents love me and care about me, but I wish they would stop treating me like I’m still sixteen. Three years makes a really big difference, and they have yet to understand that. I spent eight months away from home, living basically on my own and doing what I want, so following their rules is impossible now. I can’t stand having a curfew or telling them everything that I’m doing. It’s embarrassing when I’m hanging out with friends and I have to leave and be home by midnight. They don’t need to tell me when to be home or where I can drive my car. I’M NINETEEN. I’m not a baby, and I can definitely handle myself.

No boy will ever be able to compare.

I wouldn’t trade my dad for anything in the world, and I’m incredibly thankful that he cares about me so much, but I’m so tired of him treating me like a baby. I really think I can manage driving three hours away. I’m nineteen, and I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m tired of his excuses that don’t make sense, and I’m tired of him worrying about every little thing that I do. As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to let me go eventually, and I think now would be a great time for that. I know he just loves me and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me, but this is the most frustrating thing in the world. I’m in college now; I think I can handle myself. I just want a little bit of freedom, please.

My dad has been working out of town for a little over three months now, and I have yet to get used to it. He comes home about every other weekend and stays home from Saturday night to Sunday after dinner, but that doesn’t help how much I miss him. I just feel like he’s missing everything, and these are the times that I’d most like him to be here. He missed my entire softball season, which I played mostly for him, and now he’s missing the entire summer before I leave for college. I hate it. My dad is the most important person in my life, and it’s hell without him here. I still have my mother, but that just makes everything worse. I’d prefer to live alone the whole summer than to stay here with only her. It’s awful. There isn’t a day where she doesn’t yell at me for something ridiculous or complain about terrible I am to my grandma. Every single time I ask to leave, she freaks out about it. She apparently doesn’t get the point that I can’t stand being here with her. The only reason that I’ve survived living with her for eighteen years is my dad, and now he’s gone and I don’t know how to react. Without him, I honestly think she may have killed me by now. He balances things out here, so everything is so hectic when he’s gone. It’s weird to think about the fact that I’ll never really live with him again. Yeah, I’ll be home for summers and holidays, but that’s not the same. I don’t like that I’m moving on and he isn’t there to help me. I miss him more than I could possibly describe.

I miss you so much. I’d rather be poor than have you gone all the time. I can’t stand playing softball when you aren’t there. It’s like I have absolutely no motivation to play well, so I suck. I just feel like playing is almost useless, since half o the reason I’m playing is for you. This is my last season ever and you’re missing it.

Agh. I just want you to come home. Fuck having a job. I’m tired of crying because you’re gone. I’d probably be a little bit better if you called occasionally, but I guess you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. Blah. Comehomecomehomecomehome.

I haven’t seen my daddy in over a week, and I miss him more than I’ve ever missed anyone. I don’t understand why it’s affecting me so much, but it’s literally all I can think about. Maybe if this was only for a few weeks, it wouldn’t be terrible, but he’s going to be doing this until some time this fall. He’s home every week from Saturday evening to Sunday evening, but that’s not enough. He’s going to miss the day of prom, my scholarship banquet, senior night, possibly graduation, and my entire softball season. He probably loves softball more than I do, so it sucks that he’s not going to see any of my games. I know we need the money, but I’d rather be poor than have him miss everything.

There are only a few months until I leave for college, and I wish I could spend them with my daddy. This sucks.

This will be a long week and a half.

About two or three years ago, my dad found out that he has diabetes. His blood sugar was around 500, and it put him in the hospital for a week or so. They told him that if he didn’t become healthier his life wouldn’t last much longer. Now it’s happening again, and thinking about what could happen scares me more than I can even explain.

My parents have been acting weird since I came home from school today, but they refused to tell me what’s going on. So I just gave up and came upstairs to my room. They apparently forgot that I can easily hear them from my room, so they were talking about things. I guess my dad checked his blood sugar again today for the first time in quite a while, and it was almost as high as it was the time he went to the hospital.

I’m not surprised at all though. He eats really unhealthy and never exercises at all. He just keeps eating too much and gaining weight like crazy without thinking about how much it’s hurting him. He needs to go to the doctor, but we don’t have enough money. He just lost his job, so we no longer have insurance and there’s no way we can pay for him to go or for him to get medicine.

I just want him to listen to me when I say that he needs to be healthier. For a year or so after he found out about the diabetes, he did really well. He ate healthy for almost every meal and walked/ran almost every day. He lost tons of weight and eventually got taken off of the medicine he was taking. I just wish he would do that again. I’m scared something bad is going to happen, and I really can’t live without him. I don’t even know what I’d do, and now I can’t stop crying.

All of this is so fucking important, but my parents refuse to tell me. They obviously don’t understand that this affects me too. I think I have a right to know.

In the past week, my dad’s called me fat about five times. Well, not exactly. Today he said “Wow, looks like your pants are getting tighter.” And yesterday he said “Are you sure you aren’t gaining weight?” They’ve all just been things like that. I’ve always been really self-conscious. You’d think he’d know that by now. I already don’t think I’m skinny, and he’s just making me feel so much worse. Looks like I need to start running.

My dad is always perfect to me, and I treat him like shit. Yeah, sometimes he’s a little overprotective and a little crazy, but that doesn’t give me any right to treat him the way I do. He keeps me sane most days, and I don’t give him any credit for it. I love him to death, and I wish I showed him that more often.

I’m sorry, dad.

Seriously. I wish there was a way to really thank him for all he does for me. He sacrifices so much. I love you. Thank you (:

I hate it when you yell at me like that. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who really cares about me in this house, probably in the world actually. So when you yell at me it hurts. I feel like I’m letting you down. If I keep doing it, I’m afraid one day you’ll decide you don’t really care either.