Late-night rant
*sigh* mommy troubles, yet again.
Last night there was a come-apart about...something or other. I've really stopped keeping track. Oh, no, I remember. I was suggesting that we have some kind of calendar to keep track of all the family plans so we don't have to keep asking each other before scheduling things, which apparantly is very insulting of me to suggest. i don't even remember how she pulled that one out of proportion. So after a long while of me just mindlessly agreeing with whatever she said to get her to shut up, I walked away from the conversation willing to accept the possibility that I was, in fact, insane, and there was some madness to my suggestion. I went back upstairs, listened to music and cried for several songs, cleaned, lit a few candles and did some stuff in a workbook the therapist recommended to me. I was feeling a lot better and willing to work through whatever insanity I may have had when I decided to go back downstairs.
But first, a quick eavesdrop on the mother dearest. It wasn't necessarily purposeful, she's just so damned loud sometimes. Not that I didn't put in a little effort, of course.
I heard her talking about stuff she had talked about with my therapist, and assumed she was talking with my dad. But I noticed he didn't answer when he paused. This struck me as odd, because supposedly no one outside of my mother and father knew about all that stuff back in February. I mean, I did slightly go against that by telling all my lj-friends. But I mean, it happened to me. It's my drama to tell or not to tell.
Or, not. As she's apparantly broken a promise of that to tell my uncle, who's apparantly known for some time.
That wasn't the bad part. I came downstairs and attempted to confront her about it-I told her I had heard her say my therapist's name, but she told me she might have gotten her name confused with someone elses. Then I left the room. About a minute later she came running after me feeding me this story about how she was talking about a lunch meeting she was going to have with Mrs. Briggs, and how she somehow got the name "Charmaigne" confused with "Andrea". She nearly convinced me that I was just imagining things. And I know she's done this before. I've heard that tone in her voice. I'd only caught her one time before this. It makes me so sick. After that I went to my room and cried more. Cried myself to sleep and didn't want to wake up the next morning. Woke up at 7:30, 8, 9, and 9:15, and forced myself back to sleep every time except the last one. I woke up expecting to be yelled at and brainwashed more, except what she said probably hurt me more than anything I could have imagined.
"Want to kiss and make up for last night?"
Like it was my fault or something. Like she hadn't done anything wrong. And I wondered, just how many times in my life I had let her off the hook like that. How many times I had been too young to understand that she's not always right, or just not cared, or been convinced by her. It makes me...SO...angry, and sad and upset and confused and wanting to crawl into a little hole and not come out and not write this up on LJ because then not only have I made my friends feel bad but they all want to comfort me and I just don't want to hear it anymore, I just with every fiber of my being want her to drop dead and never make me have to deal with her again.
And...I miss Michael. A lot. I wanted to call him so bad last night, and I would have if it hadn't been 10:00. I wouldn't have cared how he knew I had his number. I would have taken the car and driven out to meet him anywhere, and not cared what would happen to me when I got back home, or how late I got back. I needed a hug so bad last night. I hugged my stuffed penguin and cried so hard...but I was still alone no matter what I did. I want him to be here right now.
And then...I don't remember when this happened. I think right before I went to bed. I came up to my room and she followed me, so I locked my door. She started yelling and she tried to pick the lock. It was just like a nightmare I'd had...I sat against the door and used all my weight to force it shut, horrified with every breath I took that she'd force it opened and do goddess knows what, not sure whether to cry or breathe, just sitting there, minute after minute, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't complete the nightmare. She left after a while...I unlocked the door because I'm not allowed to sleep with it shut but I taped it, so if she opened it in the middle of the night I could hear it open.
You know what killed me, on the Europe trip? How all the adults seemed to think so highly of her. The kids, some of them were easier to convince. But the adults kept...comparing me to her. Something that tore me up inside for days was when Ms Taylor told me I was "as beautiful as [my mother]". There is NOTHING beautiful about that person. I couldn't believe Ms. Taylor could say such a heartless thing, knowing that I'm not a big fan of my mother.
Goddess, Michael, I hope you're asleep, wherever you are. And I hope you're safe and having a good dream. And I hope that you can give me a hug soon, because I really need one. I can't think of anything I wouldn't give right now if you could just hug me and make me feel better, like you did 5 months ago. I would very much like to curl up and die right now.
Somebody wake me up, I didn't ask for this.
Last night there was a come-apart about...something or other. I've really stopped keeping track. Oh, no, I remember. I was suggesting that we have some kind of calendar to keep track of all the family plans so we don't have to keep asking each other before scheduling things, which apparantly is very insulting of me to suggest. i don't even remember how she pulled that one out of proportion. So after a long while of me just mindlessly agreeing with whatever she said to get her to shut up, I walked away from the conversation willing to accept the possibility that I was, in fact, insane, and there was some madness to my suggestion. I went back upstairs, listened to music and cried for several songs, cleaned, lit a few candles and did some stuff in a workbook the therapist recommended to me. I was feeling a lot better and willing to work through whatever insanity I may have had when I decided to go back downstairs.
But first, a quick eavesdrop on the mother dearest. It wasn't necessarily purposeful, she's just so damned loud sometimes. Not that I didn't put in a little effort, of course.
I heard her talking about stuff she had talked about with my therapist, and assumed she was talking with my dad. But I noticed he didn't answer when he paused. This struck me as odd, because supposedly no one outside of my mother and father knew about all that stuff back in February. I mean, I did slightly go against that by telling all my lj-friends. But I mean, it happened to me. It's my drama to tell or not to tell.
Or, not. As she's apparantly broken a promise of that to tell my uncle, who's apparantly known for some time.
That wasn't the bad part. I came downstairs and attempted to confront her about it-I told her I had heard her say my therapist's name, but she told me she might have gotten her name confused with someone elses. Then I left the room. About a minute later she came running after me feeding me this story about how she was talking about a lunch meeting she was going to have with Mrs. Briggs, and how she somehow got the name "Charmaigne" confused with "Andrea". She nearly convinced me that I was just imagining things. And I know she's done this before. I've heard that tone in her voice. I'd only caught her one time before this. It makes me so sick. After that I went to my room and cried more. Cried myself to sleep and didn't want to wake up the next morning. Woke up at 7:30, 8, 9, and 9:15, and forced myself back to sleep every time except the last one. I woke up expecting to be yelled at and brainwashed more, except what she said probably hurt me more than anything I could have imagined.
"Want to kiss and make up for last night?"
Like it was my fault or something. Like she hadn't done anything wrong. And I wondered, just how many times in my life I had let her off the hook like that. How many times I had been too young to understand that she's not always right, or just not cared, or been convinced by her. It makes me...SO...angry, and sad and upset and confused and wanting to crawl into a little hole and not come out and not write this up on LJ because then not only have I made my friends feel bad but they all want to comfort me and I just don't want to hear it anymore, I just with every fiber of my being want her to drop dead and never make me have to deal with her again.
And...I miss Michael. A lot. I wanted to call him so bad last night, and I would have if it hadn't been 10:00. I wouldn't have cared how he knew I had his number. I would have taken the car and driven out to meet him anywhere, and not cared what would happen to me when I got back home, or how late I got back. I needed a hug so bad last night. I hugged my stuffed penguin and cried so hard...but I was still alone no matter what I did. I want him to be here right now.
And then...I don't remember when this happened. I think right before I went to bed. I came up to my room and she followed me, so I locked my door. She started yelling and she tried to pick the lock. It was just like a nightmare I'd had...I sat against the door and used all my weight to force it shut, horrified with every breath I took that she'd force it opened and do goddess knows what, not sure whether to cry or breathe, just sitting there, minute after minute, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't complete the nightmare. She left after a while...I unlocked the door because I'm not allowed to sleep with it shut but I taped it, so if she opened it in the middle of the night I could hear it open.
You know what killed me, on the Europe trip? How all the adults seemed to think so highly of her. The kids, some of them were easier to convince. But the adults kept...comparing me to her. Something that tore me up inside for days was when Ms Taylor told me I was "as beautiful as [my mother]". There is NOTHING beautiful about that person. I couldn't believe Ms. Taylor could say such a heartless thing, knowing that I'm not a big fan of my mother.
Goddess, Michael, I hope you're asleep, wherever you are. And I hope you're safe and having a good dream. And I hope that you can give me a hug soon, because I really need one. I can't think of anything I wouldn't give right now if you could just hug me and make me feel better, like you did 5 months ago. I would very much like to curl up and die right now.
Somebody wake me up, I didn't ask for this.