Friday, February 02, 2007

far away.

This morning I woke up to my mom screaming at anything that moves- my brother, my sister, the dog. This was about seven am. I've become so accustomed to this kind of thing that I rolled over and went back to bed.
She came storming in here a little while later.
"Wake up, when's your class, get out," and so on. I just looked at her. She bullied me into answering her TO THE MINUTE when I would leave the house, when I would be home, and then bullies me into shoveling walks at my grandmother's house- a job that my brother and sister could EASILY do, especially considering that I did the driveway, the back walks, and the front walks yesterday before class, requiring me to knock an hour off of my sleep.
She's started this new campaign where she essentially tries to convince me that she's always right- like yesterday, for example. When I was leaving the house, she demanded to know when I'd be home, so I told her "In time for Dad to pick me up," which is five. She screamed today because apparently I told her I'd be home after my class, which ends at twelve twenty. And then she tells me that since I drink all the time and am such a bad person that I can't even keep my lies straight and that I should just let her schedule my life and so on. Then she moves on to the fact that I never have anyone over anymore, and that must mean that I have no friends anymore, and how I probably lost them all because I'm a nasty girl who cares about nothing but her next drink.
Reality? Most of my high school friends are terrified of coming over here because my mom is a terrifying drunk.
She accosted a friend's mother in the orthodontist's office yesterday, because said friend's mom picked me up last weekend when my mom kicked me out- and the moment I left my mother immediately threatened with calling the police and all sorts of things, and stalked down my friend's family. She wasn't expecting me to actually get out when she said "Fuck off, Kate," and so I guess I called her bluff.
I have to get out of here. I HAVE TO.
I can't handle it.
There are words carved into my arms and it's because of her. "Liar", "bitch". I mean, how can you care about yourself when all you do is babysit your alcoholic mother and try to make sure she doesn't hurt the kids?
I have an excuse for the bruises- "Oh, soccer. Violent sex. My general clumsiness."
The kids don't.
This is what getting pressed to death feels like. I can't breathe. She's crushing everything I am and she takes more and more of that away every time she searches my room- yeah, I know you do that- and stalker calls my cell phone when I'm not within reach. She has actually had the audacity to call me six times while I was on a date. She's also called me when she was upstairs in her room and I was in my bedroom here.
I honestly don't know how to convey that I can't do this anymore.
Hey mom, remember when I was in the hospital and they blamed all sorts of chemical imbalances and put me on medication- medication you threw away and said I didn't need it and I was faking to get high- YOU ARE THE GODDAMN IMBALANCE.

I guess it explains at least why I'm always "with" the guys I'm with. I'm terrified of turning out like my mom, as a controlling psycho bitch. So I pick the ones that I'll never be able to control, the ones that treat me like crap (maybe I'm a sucker for punishment?) and the ones that will never get close enough to me to ever meet her and see what I might end up like.

I see her and I never want to actually have a relationship or get married. I can't go through life knowing I ruined so many others' lives. I'm crying way too hard to keep going with this, so I'll just stop here.

1 Comments:

Blogger Madeleine said...

I will never be able to understand what you're going through. I know that. I also know that I love you, and will always be here, even if it's just for a laugh. I know this will never be enough. And that these words can't fix the broken. I'm trying so hard for this to mean something. Because you deserve them to mean something.

11:39 PM

 

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