(no subject)
I cannot express how glad I am that in just 3 more months school will be over and summer vacation will begin. Today has been a terrible day, or at least has since I stepped out of the car and entered my home. My father came in only moments later, and everything was alright at first. He was in an alright mood, not good or bad. At around 6:40 I went upstairs and asked him if he thought I could call my mom and ask her to pick something up from the store, thinking perhaps he knew what she was doing afterwork or something. I guess that was dumb of me. He flipped out, switching everything around. First he started about how he hadn't had lunch yet and was just trying to eat lunch and that he sholdn't have to worry about my dinner, and that he wasn't going to go out to the store. The only thing was, I wasn't asking him to. Then he started calling me things like selfish and immature and other such things and I can't really see the reason. He made it seem as though asking him if I should bother asking my mother something is a crime, a crime against him. Then he started on how I should have picked something up since I had been out during the afternoon, or perhaps I should have eaten with whoever I was hanging out with, but it was kind of early...I was going to tell him this, but there wasn't time. So I told him I had no money to buy something at the store with. I hadn't even lunch money for lunch or something to eat at school. Of course, it wouldn't have been complete if he hadn't compared me to him when he was my age. "When I was your age and came home late I had already eaten out." Well, number one I'm not him, and number two I got home at 5:30. Why would I eat that early? Anyway, he yelled me some more, and I ended up crying in my room for a little bit. I am greatful though, that I had something to remind me of someone else, and of times much better than these spent here being constantly yelled at. So slowly I forced my mind to think upon other things, better things, and was able to stop the tears from falling. But it still hurts. No matter how many times I say it doesn't matter, and how many times I get over it, it still hurts, and I hate it. I hate feeling like my house is a place where I'd rather not be. I can't even call it a home. I wish I could just run away, away from everything here, at my house. The only real thing keeping me here are the people outside of my own family. The one's that really seem to care. Running away doesn't work anyway. I've thought about it tons of times, and tried it once or twice, i'm leaning towards once, and it didn't work. I got stuck sitting through a family counsoling session where my dad lied and said he had no idea what he had done wrong and that he doesn't yell me constantly and blah blah blah. I can't believe people actually pay to see this guy, I don't see the point, but whatever. Thank goodness tomorrow is friday. I need the weekend to get away from it all. What I crave more than anything is a stress free weekend, with nothing to worry about. Tomorrow will suck though, at least during school. I just... I don't even feel like I'm really alive right now. But that I'm just on autopilot, and I can't really feel anything. Only hurt... *sigh* Perhaps the home life is just destined to suck and make me want to run and never come back. If it is I would like to congradulate it in succeeding. I feel as though I'm falling, and hope that there is something for me to grab on to.