(no subject)
I hate being at home. Granted, parts are wonderful, but the overall experience of coming to my parent's house isn't a joyful one. As soon as I arrive, I get drunken slurs from my father and sermon-esque lectures from my mother. I'm sick of being here. Why I thought coming here would make me feel better, I don't know. It's lowered me down to very little. Add on top of that my sister and her kids coming into town and I get compared to her. Not a fun topic. "Oh, look at your sister! She's got her masters degree, she's so great. I messed up raising her, but yet she still turned out okay...what's wrong with you? Look at how skinny she is and she's had three kids!" I'm sick of that. I'm sick of a lot of stuff around here. I told my parents I planned on leaving this weekend to go home and I was told, "no, you can't." I really don't know how they plan on keeping me here, though. I can only take so much of this place at a time and that time is swiftly coming to an end.
Not that I'll be any happier in Columbus, but at least I won't have to deal with all this crap.
Not that I'll be any happier in Columbus, but at least I won't have to deal with all this crap.