For some reason, my stepdad is mad at me for selling his PlayStation.
The first PlayStation.
2 years ago, I asked him if I could sell his PlayStation, since he had no more of his PlayStation games and nothing to hook it up with. He gave me permission to sell it. I sold it on Facebook Marketplace. Now, 2 years later, he's all fuming and shit because I sold it. He even admit that he gave me permission and said that the damage has been done.
Dude, what damage? There was no damage done when he was all cool with me selling his PlayStation. I asked this dude for consent and he gave me consent to sell it.
Dude hadn't even touched the game, let alone worried about it for over 10 years. It's just sitting there in the living room, untouched and non-playable. We didn't have the controllers for it either. So what's the issue? I understand how valuable it is, but taking his anger out on me all because he gave consent in selling his PlayStation? I would have never sold it if he didn't give me consent to do so.
"If you want to sell something, sell some of your stuff."馃檮 That's not the only thing I sold, buddy. I've been trying to sell my stuff. Some has been sold and most are still here.
"You wouldn't like it if somebody sold your stuff." That has nothing to do with the situation. That phrase he told me, it's invalid, because this phrase is used for when you're telling somebody who has sold your stuff without your permission.
This is just making me wanting to go back to that insecurity I had when I was little. Stepdad used to get angry every time I had asked for something. I had stopped asking him things after the second time he scolded me for asking. I asked (a question or wanted/needed something) my mother in his presence and he gets angry and scolds me for asking. It started when I was 5. I used to get little scratches on my arms and would ask for a bandaid. I would always get scolded by the stepdad and he would tell me, "It's not that serious!" Even when I was actually bleeding, he'd holler in frustration.
This is the reason why I had never asked for help in general. The concept of Do It Yourself has stuck with me and I was so determined in needing to do everything by myself because I didn't want to ask for help because I would be scared of being scolded.
2 years ago, I asked him if I could sell his PlayStation, since he had no more of his PlayStation games and nothing to hook it up with. He gave me permission to sell it. I sold it on Facebook Marketplace. Now, 2 years later, he's all fuming and shit because I sold it. He even admit that he gave me permission and said that the damage has been done.
Dude, what damage? There was no damage done when he was all cool with me selling his PlayStation. I asked this dude for consent and he gave me consent to sell it.
Dude hadn't even touched the game, let alone worried about it for over 10 years. It's just sitting there in the living room, untouched and non-playable. We didn't have the controllers for it either. So what's the issue? I understand how valuable it is, but taking his anger out on me all because he gave consent in selling his PlayStation? I would have never sold it if he didn't give me consent to do so.
"If you want to sell something, sell some of your stuff."馃檮 That's not the only thing I sold, buddy. I've been trying to sell my stuff. Some has been sold and most are still here.
"You wouldn't like it if somebody sold your stuff." That has nothing to do with the situation. That phrase he told me, it's invalid, because this phrase is used for when you're telling somebody who has sold your stuff without your permission.
This is just making me wanting to go back to that insecurity I had when I was little. Stepdad used to get angry every time I had asked for something. I had stopped asking him things after the second time he scolded me for asking. I asked (a question or wanted/needed something) my mother in his presence and he gets angry and scolds me for asking. It started when I was 5. I used to get little scratches on my arms and would ask for a bandaid. I would always get scolded by the stepdad and he would tell me, "It's not that serious!" Even when I was actually bleeding, he'd holler in frustration.
This is the reason why I had never asked for help in general. The concept of Do It Yourself has stuck with me and I was so determined in needing to do everything by myself because I didn't want to ask for help because I would be scared of being scolded.
18-21, F
