Dicks with authority are the worst kind of evil in the world.  
As a child, my choices were limited:  stick it out in my bedroom, or run away from home.  I chose the former, but 2 weeks after college graduation ceremonies, I got married and left the nest for good.  
My father isn’t a dick anymore – at least, not around me.  I finally found a love for him I never thought I would have, and today we have a really comfortable relationship.  I realize he’s pretty smart and talented, but I know that we can only tolerate a certain amount of each other throughout the year.
Anyway, it feels awful when someone who has authority over me treats me unfairly or unjustly.  I detest sucking it up.  I hate keeping my mouth shut to avoid further punishment; swallowing my opinions tastes like foul bile oozing down my throat.  
I get so caught up in the particular argument – so enraged by the injustice – that I often fail to see the bigger picture that’s at risk if my tongue gets loose.  I feel controlled and helpless – like I’m stuffed in a box with my hands tied behind my back, and I can’t breathe.  At first, I kick and yell and scream, and then I finally begin to cry as I wait impatiently for an opportunity to hit the “eject” button and get the hell out of there.  
And so it goes.

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