Rant #Whatever
So, I hit a wall. Literally and metaphorically. The literal wall was made of wood, and I have a few cuts on my knuckles now. Mostly it’s just red. I think I’ll probably end up a little bruised. Or a lot bruised, I don’t know, I’ve never punched a wall before. In terms of the metaphorical wall, I’m fed up and miserable and upset and sad. I cried a little. I’m still teary now. I feel like shit, I’m shaky, and I keep squeezing my bruised knuckles so that they’ll hurt more and I can concentrate on the pain to calm myself down.
My parents had another argument today. I mean, they sort of always argue, but they’re usually small, and then every six months or so they’ll have a big blow-out fight. It always really upsets me. I’m not good at managing my emotions, other than just sort of sweeping them under the rug and bottling them, and I’m very shaken. I’m frustrated and scared and sad and just plain old angry.
And of course they decided to have the argument in front of me. It’s like, don’t worry about the affect this’ll have on your daughter, guys. I’m only right here. It’s not like dealing with YEARS of this sort of thing have made me a paranoid cynic who doesn’t trust anyone. You know, people always ask me why I say I don’t want to have kids. It’s not because I’m afraid of pregnancy, or childbirth, or because I have a fear of commitment, or anything like that. It’s because I’m fucking terrified that I would turn into my parents. I don’t ever want to put a kid through all the shit I’ve had to deal with. I can’t do that to someone. I just can’t let that happen.
So I eventually just leave the house while they’re arguing and go to get some air, because I feel like I’m going to fucking choke, and I end up in this gazebo thing by the lake and the next thing I know I’m just punching the walls. It felt so good while it hurt, but then the minute it faded I felt like shit again. Then they walk right past me, still arguing, and don't notice me at all. I was sitting there, with my knuckles bleeding, and they didn't even notice that I was there. This is my life, people.
Then later my dad takes me upstairs and does the whole "I'm sorry we were fighting in front of you" spiel, but it's so fucking obvious that he's only saying it to make himself feel better. He doesn't actually care. It's like he was worried that if he didn't he'd get dropped from the Union Of Dads or something. "Sorry your mother and I argued in front of you, but she's being a bitch right now." Yeah, Dad. Heartwarming words, those. You're clearly so worried about how that sort of thing effects me.
I know that I shouldn't get so worked up. Truthfully, my mom and dad aren't bad parents. In fact, they're a million times better than most of my friend's families. Everything I'm ranting about happened several hours ago, and they've since made up and are acting civil to each other again. I know that it's important for people to get their feelings out in the open and discuss them, and I know that my parents are the sort of people who just happen to yell while they're doing it. It's actually what's probably kept their marriage going for the past 20 years.
But I just hate this. I feel like whenever something like this happens, there's no one for me to talk to. No one ever says to me, "Oh, are you okay? Do you need someone to hold you? Do you need to talk?" There's just no one. I feel so fucking lonely sometimes.
My parents had another argument today. I mean, they sort of always argue, but they’re usually small, and then every six months or so they’ll have a big blow-out fight. It always really upsets me. I’m not good at managing my emotions, other than just sort of sweeping them under the rug and bottling them, and I’m very shaken. I’m frustrated and scared and sad and just plain old angry.
And of course they decided to have the argument in front of me. It’s like, don’t worry about the affect this’ll have on your daughter, guys. I’m only right here. It’s not like dealing with YEARS of this sort of thing have made me a paranoid cynic who doesn’t trust anyone. You know, people always ask me why I say I don’t want to have kids. It’s not because I’m afraid of pregnancy, or childbirth, or because I have a fear of commitment, or anything like that. It’s because I’m fucking terrified that I would turn into my parents. I don’t ever want to put a kid through all the shit I’ve had to deal with. I can’t do that to someone. I just can’t let that happen.
So I eventually just leave the house while they’re arguing and go to get some air, because I feel like I’m going to fucking choke, and I end up in this gazebo thing by the lake and the next thing I know I’m just punching the walls. It felt so good while it hurt, but then the minute it faded I felt like shit again. Then they walk right past me, still arguing, and don't notice me at all. I was sitting there, with my knuckles bleeding, and they didn't even notice that I was there. This is my life, people.
Then later my dad takes me upstairs and does the whole "I'm sorry we were fighting in front of you" spiel, but it's so fucking obvious that he's only saying it to make himself feel better. He doesn't actually care. It's like he was worried that if he didn't he'd get dropped from the Union Of Dads or something. "Sorry your mother and I argued in front of you, but she's being a bitch right now." Yeah, Dad. Heartwarming words, those. You're clearly so worried about how that sort of thing effects me.
I know that I shouldn't get so worked up. Truthfully, my mom and dad aren't bad parents. In fact, they're a million times better than most of my friend's families. Everything I'm ranting about happened several hours ago, and they've since made up and are acting civil to each other again. I know that it's important for people to get their feelings out in the open and discuss them, and I know that my parents are the sort of people who just happen to yell while they're doing it. It's actually what's probably kept their marriage going for the past 20 years.
But I just hate this. I feel like whenever something like this happens, there's no one for me to talk to. No one ever says to me, "Oh, are you okay? Do you need someone to hold you? Do you need to talk?" There's just no one. I feel so fucking lonely sometimes.