Cooking

This is why I'm always afraid when my dad cleans the house or cooks. 

I keep quiet, but I'm afraid.

Because every time he does something like that, he works himself up into a rage for no reason whatsoever.

That's the bit I can't understand - who gets angry while cooking or cleaning?
It always makes you calm after a while, and that really is the bit that I can't understand.

And you know what they say - humans tend to fear what they can't understand.

I don't fear that he'll lash out at me - that I'm used to - 

but what I fear is that his anger is unpredictable, and there's no way of guessing what could happen.

I guess it's true that certain things are hereditary.

I'm like him - when I get angry, I tend to bottle it all up until I can't control it anymore.

Maybe that's why I'm afraid, because what if I turn out like him?

It's a vicious cycle:
He cooks something, effectively working himself up into a proper rage about nothing, then forces me to eat whatever it is that he cooked.
I'll obviously have no appetite after watching him get angrier and angrier, so I don't eat much, if at all.
If I even try to tell him that I'm not hungry (because how surprising it is that such a phenomenon exists), he gets even angrier and I get railed on for not being hungry.
It's not my fault, it really isn't - I try to force myself to be hungry but I'm so nauseous from fear and I don't even want to go near him and you can expect that actually eating something is the last thing on my mind besides the overwhelming desire to just go to my room and hide there.

And all this scares me because if we can't even put a dinner together (guess who had the fuckin' genius idea of having a steamboat in such hot weather), how the fuck are we supposed to survive a month-long trip with only each other for company?
I should make a movie out of this...