I am NOT considering matricide. I would like to smack her with a mattress once or twice though.
Living at home is KILLING me. I love my mom but when we fight I can't even fight back. This morning was the 1st time "force you out" was used in a fight. Tho is it a fight if only 1 person talks? Im afraid to fight back lately. She says I dont do enough round the house & wont unpack. This is true. I dont bother with much of anything besides going to work and whatever around the house chore she leaves me. She was talking about moving since before I moved in here. How can she possibly expect me to get invested? I've lived basically alone or with people who hated me for the last 6 years. How can she expect me to do anything besides exactly what I want to, when I want to?
The other shoe WILL drop. It's just a question of when, especially since she finally dropped the "dont make me kick you out bomb" tonight. Realistically, if I toe the line and am a Good Girl, I've got a one to two years for this to fall to shit like everything else in my life has in the last decade. Taking all my shit out of storage, moving a bunch of furniture/clothes/boxes, trying for a real life here is beyond stupid. Atlanta isn't the endgame. Living with my mother CERTAINLY isnt. This is a layover in a decent, medium-sized city that is better than Tallahassee but is still Not Where I Want To Be. So who cares?
Mom does and as I dont talk to Dad and WE ARE IN THE WORST GODDAMN RECESSION SINCE THE GREAT DEPRESSION I cant fight. Seriously, I jsut sit there. Silent. I've got nowhere to go and no future so I cant blow my free meal when I make ~100 dollars a week. I have to toe this line that would be reasonable if I believed in it for one fucking second.
But I don't. I physically CANNOT because all the above isn'teven touching the depression stuff. Lets start with this: APATHY COMES WITH THE TERRITORY. JESUS WOMAN. If wellness goes from A-Z with Z=perfect mental health, A=you're not allowed shoelaces and ability to function happening only at the halfway point of an N or above, I was a C the summer of hell, I was an E when I got home from Europe, now I'm an H. Dont exect a Q lady. It's not happening. I cannot function. I cant MAKE MYSELF. Do you understand what it's like not to be able to THINK the THOUGHTS that you want? Do you? Have you ever been there you disturbingly well adjusted bitch? It is not a question of do I want to stop but I can't. It's its own kind of addiction only there's no CHOICE involved beyond "will I do something stupid like hurt myself today?"
There hasnt been enough damn time for me to get where she wants. Yes, I've been home since May, and that's awhile. Hey, I may in fact seem like I'm okay a lot of the time. I may seem better than when I was living in my room for 6 months but I'm not really. I'm supposed to go to cripplingly mentally ill to productive 10-12hrs a day in 4 months? The meds make me sleep for 10-12hrs woman. Fuck you. Just fuck you.
Here's a rough overview of the fight:
Mom:"You can make time for the things you want. You always have."
Me, sitting on the floor staring up at her, thinking And you expect that to magically change after 25yrs? Why would you think that would stop now?
Mom: "I cant motivate you without punishing you or bribing you. It's been like that your whole life."
Me: "And those only worked when I wanted them to so why do you think that changed?"
Mom:"Because you're an adult now, Rachael!"
Now I'm sitting there on the floor getting yelled at - like a teenager, thinking "what about this situation makes you feel like I'm adult?" That is the thing I cant deal with. Why on God's green Earth does she think Im suddenly an adult? Ive been over eighteen for more than half a decade and I can say with all sincerity - I am no adult. I'm pretty much a teenager who has to go to work and is done with school. Her yelling wont make me into one, no matter how loudly she screams.
Its not like a magic wand was waved and like a fucking pumpkin turned into a carriage I was turned into someone worth mentioning. I'm still an awkward, angry, apathetic 15 year old powerless over my own life. Only I've gained 80lbs, a bunch of physical and emotional scars and had all my hope drained away leaving me trapped in the dumpy ugly body of a 24 year old failure. All the immaturity with bonus self-loathing and despair and enough experience to prove that my life WILL NEVER IMPROVE IN A LASTING WAY!
Feelings like the ones above are perfect examples of what I cant EXPLAIN to her. No matter how many times I say it, she cant seem to get how the very idea of TRYING makes me compelled to get in bed and never get out again. Pointless=me. I wish there was a word for how I feel when I get set off with this. I dont want to die or anything so melodramatic or permanent. I just want to...cease existing for a little while and come back when everything doesnt hurt so fucking much and seem as hopeless.
Why isn't that an option? And why did I get sober? This would be so much easier if I were still abusing my ativan.
The other shoe WILL drop. It's just a question of when, especially since she finally dropped the "dont make me kick you out bomb" tonight. Realistically, if I toe the line and am a Good Girl, I've got a one to two years for this to fall to shit like everything else in my life has in the last decade. Taking all my shit out of storage, moving a bunch of furniture/clothes/boxes, trying for a real life here is beyond stupid. Atlanta isn't the endgame. Living with my mother CERTAINLY isnt. This is a layover in a decent, medium-sized city that is better than Tallahassee but is still Not Where I Want To Be. So who cares?
Mom does and as I dont talk to Dad and WE ARE IN THE WORST GODDAMN RECESSION SINCE THE GREAT DEPRESSION I cant fight. Seriously, I jsut sit there. Silent. I've got nowhere to go and no future so I cant blow my free meal when I make ~100 dollars a week. I have to toe this line that would be reasonable if I believed in it for one fucking second.
But I don't. I physically CANNOT because all the above isn'teven touching the depression stuff. Lets start with this: APATHY COMES WITH THE TERRITORY. JESUS WOMAN. If wellness goes from A-Z with Z=perfect mental health, A=you're not allowed shoelaces and ability to function happening only at the halfway point of an N or above, I was a C the summer of hell, I was an E when I got home from Europe, now I'm an H. Dont exect a Q lady. It's not happening. I cannot function. I cant MAKE MYSELF. Do you understand what it's like not to be able to THINK the THOUGHTS that you want? Do you? Have you ever been there you disturbingly well adjusted bitch? It is not a question of do I want to stop but I can't. It's its own kind of addiction only there's no CHOICE involved beyond "will I do something stupid like hurt myself today?"
There hasnt been enough damn time for me to get where she wants. Yes, I've been home since May, and that's awhile. Hey, I may in fact seem like I'm okay a lot of the time. I may seem better than when I was living in my room for 6 months but I'm not really. I'm supposed to go to cripplingly mentally ill to productive 10-12hrs a day in 4 months? The meds make me sleep for 10-12hrs woman. Fuck you. Just fuck you.
Here's a rough overview of the fight:
Mom:"You can make time for the things you want. You always have."
Me, sitting on the floor staring up at her, thinking And you expect that to magically change after 25yrs? Why would you think that would stop now?
Mom: "I cant motivate you without punishing you or bribing you. It's been like that your whole life."
Me: "And those only worked when I wanted them to so why do you think that changed?"
Mom:"Because you're an adult now, Rachael!"
Now I'm sitting there on the floor getting yelled at - like a teenager, thinking "what about this situation makes you feel like I'm adult?" That is the thing I cant deal with. Why on God's green Earth does she think Im suddenly an adult? Ive been over eighteen for more than half a decade and I can say with all sincerity - I am no adult. I'm pretty much a teenager who has to go to work and is done with school. Her yelling wont make me into one, no matter how loudly she screams.
Its not like a magic wand was waved and like a fucking pumpkin turned into a carriage I was turned into someone worth mentioning. I'm still an awkward, angry, apathetic 15 year old powerless over my own life. Only I've gained 80lbs, a bunch of physical and emotional scars and had all my hope drained away leaving me trapped in the dumpy ugly body of a 24 year old failure. All the immaturity with bonus self-loathing and despair and enough experience to prove that my life WILL NEVER IMPROVE IN A LASTING WAY!
Feelings like the ones above are perfect examples of what I cant EXPLAIN to her. No matter how many times I say it, she cant seem to get how the very idea of TRYING makes me compelled to get in bed and never get out again. Pointless=me. I wish there was a word for how I feel when I get set off with this. I dont want to die or anything so melodramatic or permanent. I just want to...cease existing for a little while and come back when everything doesnt hurt so fucking much and seem as hopeless.
Why isn't that an option? And why did I get sober? This would be so much easier if I were still abusing my ativan.