...

It's becoming difficult again, and in this situation I wish I could
come to you for guidance, for understanding. Yet all I see in your
eyes is judgement and insecurity. So please tell me, I beg of you, how
is it that you expect me to be unwavering and strong and always in
control when I have nothing at my back? I posess some brains and the
slightest penchant for braun, yes, yet neither in sufficient quantity
to prop me up on its own. Yes, I'm weak. It would be rather nice if I
had your help and didn't have to worry about handling you and your
fragile ego.

I'm the son here. Why is it that it's always me that has to handle you?