MOTHERRRFUCKKKEERRRR.
I will never forget why I CAN'T LIVE WITH MY MOTHER. SHE MAKES ME MISERABLE. EVERYTHING THAT MISERABLE IS AND COULD EVER BE. Thats what my Mom makes me. Sometimes I feel really sad for her because she seems like a sad human being... barely talks to anyone, just works... work work, sleep, work work, sleep. I want to be her friend, but honestly, I'm gonna have to learn to fucking suck it up and not feel for everyone the way I do, 'cause quite frankly, some people just don't give half a shit and are more concerned about leaks in their ceilings than other peoples and even their own MENTAL WELL BEINGS. To her, seeing me not take a fucking bath in her bathroom is an accomplishment equivalent to me getting a fucking degree with a 4.0 gpa. TAKE A FUCKIN CHILL PILL, MOM. SMOKE SOME FUCKING MARIJUANA. BEAT A PUNCHING BAG. JUST STOP YELLING AT ME WITH YOUR SATANIC YELLING VOICE THING THAT MAKES ME WANT TO DIE FOR THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN DONE AND CAN'T BE CHANGED. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Yah yah, I'm saving money living at home. I'm on the verge of being an extinct Donna Bansavich at this precise moment. Either she's gonna kill me, or I'm gonna drive myself off a cliff in rage. I was in a good mood approxiametly 10 minutes ago. AND NOW I WANNA FUCKING DIE. NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO PERFECT THE ABILITY TO TAKE A PERFECTLY HAPPY DONNA AND WITHIN A MATTER OF SECONDS, 1 mississippi 2 mississippi, MAKE HER WANT TO FREAK OUT AND COMBUST THE WAY HER OWN MOTHER DOES.
I wish she'd stop "loving" me the way she does, I don't want her to take control of my financial issues, I put myself in that position and I AM the only one who needs to RESOLVE it and learn from my mistakes. Instead, she'd the one who's taking the impact of my mistake, willingly and then makes me feel bad that she is working a second job. I'd rather be miserable figuring out how to deal with it myself rather than walking on eggshells around her, getting yelled at constantly for the most benign shit.
I'm a really timid person. You smack my hand and tell me that I did something wrong that I thought was right. I'll get frustrated and just climb into a period of solitude where I want nothing to do with anyone... then eventually I get uber depressed.
She's a good person, I swear. She has nothing but good intentions. But she can get utterly vicious and beast like. I swear to God, you'd never heard Satan until you hear my mom ripping my shit in half and over and over again. And as strong as I can be sometime, I just can't take it. Especially not now, knowing for a goddamn fact that I 100% failed everything this last semester because I could not get myself together. I wish she knew how to communicate better. She has no fucking clue who her own daughter is. She knows for sure I'm not who she wants me to be. And I don't even know who I want to be yet. I need to figure things out and
I'm leaving. I can't be in this house for a second longer.
I need to breathe.
Thanks for always being there for me, livejournal.
I know I need to stop blaming other people for my madness, but it's neccessary. My mother... is driving me.... up the fucking wall.
You have no idea.
Seriously, no fucking idea.
I can't be over reacting. This has happened so many times before.
I've been dealing with this practically every moment I've ever lived in this house since we moved here.
Im gonna need a shrink real bad if I'm gonna stay under this roof for another month.
My only hope is that I can get this full-time position, then I will be out of here in no time.
Why does it sound so clique to say "I'm depressed"?... I don't... it just does. Because people who typically are depressed don't admit it like I am about it. I don't give a shit. I'm depressed. Make what you want to of it, but that is my mental state at this present moment. Just don't confront me about it face to face trying to make me feel better if you read this, 'cause it won't help, I'll just cry cry cry. Kinda like how if someone asks you "what's wrong?" and there's so much wrong, you don't know where to begin, so you just cry. Cry, cry. I just need some time... time... love... and tenderness. (Like how I still manage to have a sense of humor?) And to get out of dodge, asap.
My life is great. Failing school, a mom who may be our devil in disguise, a broken foot, a bunch of self-image issues and lonely lonely lonely, being bloated, feeling like I no longer have the capability to connect with people either 'cause I don't know how to, or just don't care to... lots of growing social anxiety on and off.
Fuck, I'm stopping.
Yah yah, I'm saving money living at home. I'm on the verge of being an extinct Donna Bansavich at this precise moment. Either she's gonna kill me, or I'm gonna drive myself off a cliff in rage. I was in a good mood approxiametly 10 minutes ago. AND NOW I WANNA FUCKING DIE. NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO PERFECT THE ABILITY TO TAKE A PERFECTLY HAPPY DONNA AND WITHIN A MATTER OF SECONDS, 1 mississippi 2 mississippi, MAKE HER WANT TO FREAK OUT AND COMBUST THE WAY HER OWN MOTHER DOES.
I wish she'd stop "loving" me the way she does, I don't want her to take control of my financial issues, I put myself in that position and I AM the only one who needs to RESOLVE it and learn from my mistakes. Instead, she'd the one who's taking the impact of my mistake, willingly and then makes me feel bad that she is working a second job. I'd rather be miserable figuring out how to deal with it myself rather than walking on eggshells around her, getting yelled at constantly for the most benign shit.
I'm a really timid person. You smack my hand and tell me that I did something wrong that I thought was right. I'll get frustrated and just climb into a period of solitude where I want nothing to do with anyone... then eventually I get uber depressed.
She's a good person, I swear. She has nothing but good intentions. But she can get utterly vicious and beast like. I swear to God, you'd never heard Satan until you hear my mom ripping my shit in half and over and over again. And as strong as I can be sometime, I just can't take it. Especially not now, knowing for a goddamn fact that I 100% failed everything this last semester because I could not get myself together. I wish she knew how to communicate better. She has no fucking clue who her own daughter is. She knows for sure I'm not who she wants me to be. And I don't even know who I want to be yet. I need to figure things out and
I'm leaving. I can't be in this house for a second longer.
I need to breathe.
Thanks for always being there for me, livejournal.
I know I need to stop blaming other people for my madness, but it's neccessary. My mother... is driving me.... up the fucking wall.
You have no idea.
Seriously, no fucking idea.
I can't be over reacting. This has happened so many times before.
I've been dealing with this practically every moment I've ever lived in this house since we moved here.
Im gonna need a shrink real bad if I'm gonna stay under this roof for another month.
My only hope is that I can get this full-time position, then I will be out of here in no time.
Why does it sound so clique to say "I'm depressed"?... I don't... it just does. Because people who typically are depressed don't admit it like I am about it. I don't give a shit. I'm depressed. Make what you want to of it, but that is my mental state at this present moment. Just don't confront me about it face to face trying to make me feel better if you read this, 'cause it won't help, I'll just cry cry cry. Kinda like how if someone asks you "what's wrong?" and there's so much wrong, you don't know where to begin, so you just cry. Cry, cry. I just need some time... time... love... and tenderness. (Like how I still manage to have a sense of humor?) And to get out of dodge, asap.
My life is great. Failing school, a mom who may be our devil in disguise, a broken foot, a bunch of self-image issues and lonely lonely lonely, being bloated, feeling like I no longer have the capability to connect with people either 'cause I don't know how to, or just don't care to... lots of growing social anxiety on and off.
Fuck, I'm stopping.