[AUGUST 31ST, 2024: 21:11:38]

My hypothesis from my last entry was correct, the depressive episodes have come and gone. 
In the process however new sensations formed from processing. Trauma, hearing things, and 
overall, more PTSD symptoms then I would've liked. I feel that this statement roughly 
describes how I feel "it wasn't iraq that gave me PTSD, it was running a forward company by 
myself in Fork Pulk." It wasn't the times I'd go half a day without food in some plot of 
land in the middle of nowhere (not being paid for my labor, of course), it was the feeling 
afterwards. Having to go home and deal with  his bullshit, day in and day out. He was 
mentally unstable and I felt that he would've killed himself if I left, that's the reason 
why I stayed. He even implied it a couple of times, "if you leave I don't know what I'd do 
without you, I wouldn't be able to live" or "You're my entire world." My staying wasn't 
caused by some love driven force, it was my own misplaced empathy for a broken man. 

We'd have at least one scream fight a day. It would be over some bullshit, or him just not 
communicating stuff to me until the last minute and the chaos that insued in the process. 
Though thinking back most of it was insane shit that he'd do. As an example, he tried to 
pull me out of school because "I wasn't learning anything and I'd be better off being 
homeschooled." This guy was far too busy to do it himself, so it'd be my step mom teaching 
me. Trying to forget about what he said, as I knew that nothing would come of it (thank god 
that he didn't have full custody of me) it resurfaced when my step mom told me "We're not 
going to do traditional education, we're going to teach you spirituality." We were in our 
car, driving through some nicely paved country road when she told me that, in reponse I 
said "spirituality won't get me a degree, or even a job that requires a high school 
certificate." She then responded with "Some people don't get a degree with formal 
education." After that we stopped talking. We then got home, me and my dad got into another
scream fight, this time about the homeschool idea.

Another time, there was some party going on over at our house. My dad gave me 1 hour to be 
inside my room, I could spend that all throughout the day. Just to avoid any of his insuing 
doubt that I was actually telling the truth about my time, I sent him what my alarm went 
down to each and every single time. 30 minutes after we made that deal, I was laying down on 
my bed and this guy comes to my room, removes my doorknob with a screwdriver and says 
"you're spending too much time in here" before kicking me out. I don't like parties of these 
sorts. The spectrum of people here doesn't account for me, it's either the only people 
having fun (the ones who are legally allowed to drink) or the toddlers that they brought 
along for the designated driver to watch over. I asked my dad why he decided to remove my 
doorknob and he just said "you know why" and then ran off. My day devolved into trying to 
get an answer out of my dad about why he decided to remove my doorknob, for most of the 
night, to no avail and babysitting him as he drank more and more. Finally, 4 hours later 
he finally gives an indirect answer as to why, he didn't say it to me he said it to my 
uncle after he asked why I was asking about why he removed my doorknob. He responded with 
"because he was being a dumbass." Great, so he doesn't even have a reason why and he won't 
budge to give me back my doorknob. Day turns to night and the migraine inducing music is 
still blasting at 105db to everyone except the people so far down a bottle of 90% ethanol 
homemade grain alcohol's displeasure. Our neighbors had complained about the noise before 
with my dad telling them just to "deal with it" and bragging that he is going to blast it 
even louder next time. I check my room, half of the compartments around my room were half 
opened and some of the items around my desk had been moved. I hid my money and other 
valuables in a very tucked away place just due to how I know my family in-law is. One of my
uncles had given me his iPhone 6 a while back, I loved it because it had a headphone jack. 
It was missing. As I open a crumpled up bag of earplugs I had under my pillow, one of my 
in-laws steps into my room, "oh sorry, I didn't know you were in here." This was most 
likely the guy who had stolen my iPhone 6 but I didn't have the energy to really confront 
him on it, it was only an MP3 player to me anyways. Over the next half hour I see that same
guy peeking through the knob-shaped hole in my door every so often to see if I had left, 
other people also knocked to see if I was in there, one of them was one of my drunk 
uncle in-laws however. He's actually a very nice person when he isn't drunk. In return to 
people knocking and opening the wooden flap that used to be a door, I pushed one of my 
drawers onto it, keeping people from opening it. Another step I took was crumpling some 
newspaper together and putting it through the new peephole my dad made on my door. The 
knocking did not stop however, late into the AM's did I hear that knock. Finally, after 
falling asleep I get awoken at 5:30AM to my dad banging as hard as he could on my door. 
"WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE, GET YOUR ASS UP!" he shouted. What the hell was he talking about, 
he never told me about any plans for today. Turns out we had to go to that same piece of 
land and work, he had to meet someone there. Due to the stress I had faced the day before 
and from the rude awakening, I had quite the stomach ache. Creating a little exit for 
myself, I sneak out of my room and into my bathroom to get ready. Sitting down on the 
toilet hoping for the waste to expel from my body with ease, the relief never comes. The 
beast returns 5 minutes after I get into the bathroom and screams at me again "WHAT THE 
FUCK ARE YOU DOING, I'M GOING TO BE LATE BECAUSE OF YOU!". I then plead that "I have a 
stomach ache, I will try to be out as quickly as possible." After many minutes of this 
stomach ache not leaving me alone, he finally snaps. I hear him start ramming 
into my bedroom door to get past the little barricade I made for myself. I then hear him 
screaming as I hear my bed's springboards moving up and down as if something heavy was 
thrown onto it. He then leaves, after a minute the adrenaline in my body allows me to 
ignore my stomach ache and move towards the sink to brush my teeth and put on some 
deodorant. Seeing as he had left outside, I went into my room to investigate the damage. 
He had thrown my chair onto my bed and ripped open the plastic covering full of papers I 
had in my room. They had ended up in places I couldn't even imagine, on the ceiling fan, 
between my window ceil, through all of the fear I found the scene to be funny. Finally, I 
take my phone and put it right up against my thigh so he wouldn't be able to see it, which 
later on turned out to be a very good call. We get into the truck and he starts asking me 
if I have my phone on me, of course I respond with no as he just trashed my room and I 
don't know what's about to go down next. We finally arrive at that piece of land and he 
instructs me to get to work. I of course, don't work as I feel like shit and as I've stated 
before he trashed my room. As I get back from behind the barrier blocking my view of where 
he usually parks his truck, it's gone. This whole time I had a glimmer of hope that nothing 
was going to go down, no insane bullshit, he was just going to meet someone. Turns out he 
wanted to prove something, he was punishing me for an infraction against him. I wait an 
hour before calling anyone as I was scared to do so. After that hour I call my brother.The 
same familiar noise picks gets registered by my phone, 20 miles away from any civilization. 
"Hello cattop, how are you doing?" I explain the situation in full detail and tell him not 
to tell my mom about the situation I'm in. I also told him to please pick me up as I didn't 
know if he was coming back or not. He replied with how it was fine, he'd come and pick me up
. 30 minutes later I see that same old familiar 2010 Ford F-150 in the distance, he'd come 
back. After he had parked he instructed me to follow him, when we had arrived at the 
location, the shed 50 feet away from the lot he preferred to park. At this time he started 
questioning me on if I had my phone. I eventually told him that I did, he was double me in 
mass so I was intimidated. After which I told him that I called my brother and that I need 
to tell him that he'd returned so he doesn't waste anymore gas. Under his supervision I 
called him and told him that he had come back to get me. After which we hopped back into 
his truck and drove home. I tried to tune out his ranting throughout the drive home, I was 
successful in doing so (for that drive). When we finally arrived home, he went on this rant 
for roughly three hours about trust and integrity. How I'd broken his trust and that I was 
a liar. So on and so fourth. During this time I started thinking the same old thoughts I 
always thought when he had gone on ear-blistering rants like this. What was the 
architecture of this house inspired by? What was the architecture that inspired this 
building inspired by. So on and so fourth with guesses until I eventually got down to the 
nubs. What part of nature inspired this? The eventual ending point for most of these 
conversations. As with birds being an inspiration for how the first aeroplanes were built, 
so has to be architecture connected to nature. Later that day I was grounded, I was too 
apathethic to exactly care about the grounding, I just wanted to go into my room and stare 
at the walls. Forget about the situation I'd gone through in a quiet room.