snap out of it, you're not making any sense.
you couldn't be more wrong darling, i never gave out these signs -
you misunderstand all meaning.
and just for once, could you let me finish a sentence?
...As much as I love my mom, I can't stand her sometimes.
So, today, I was playing Persona 4. My mom comes in, tells me that we're going to take Bandit, our dog, out together.
...I hate walking the dogs with anyone but my siblings. My siblings know how to keep up with me, leave me alone, and we just walk together. Bandit behaves and keeps walking with us.
With my mom, she walks about thirty feet behind me, and Bandit stops every thirty seconds to pull and look back at her. This is fine for a while, but on a thirty minute plus walk, it gets annoying. I kept telling him, "Come on, Bandit, let's go," but he would keep stopping. I had to tug him along sometimes and literally drag him others.
My mom also doesn't know - okay. So. Bandit is a Border Collie, Labrador mix. So, he's pretty small. However. When he sees other dogs, he goes berserk, because he wants to run over to them and make friends. As we were walking, across the street were two German Shepards. Bandit flipped out, and starting pulling so hard my shoulder ached. I yanked back on him as he was jumping up and accidentally pulled him off his feet. My mother slapped my arm (hard, too - it actually hurt) and started shouting at me.
It was an accident, and Bandit was fine. He didn't whine or panic or anything - he just got up and kept pulling. I think if he was hurt, okay fine, yell at me all you want because I'll already feel like total shit. I love my dogs - especially Bandit. I am never purposefully mean to him like that, and my mother knows that. But she decided to flip out at me, so. Whatever. I don't know. I got pissed, and kept walking because whatever. The fact that my headphones start fizzing out didn't help, either. /:
So, I got over that pretty fast. I calmed down and got home, played on the computer, responded to stuff, ect ect. I read that fanfic, too, and cried like a baby for a while on and off for an hour or two. Fine.
I then swept the kitchen for my mom, came back to my room, talked with Whitney and Jessi a little - and then, deciding to cheer myself up, I started watching the Trololo Sing Along video (which I love so much). My dad comes in and tells me, "Your mother needs you to do the dishes," and I said, "Okay, I'll be right there," so I could finish the video - which, might I add, is only like five minutes, and I was already two minutes into it.
So, a minute later, my mother comes over and is like, "So what does 'be right there' mean? What are you doing? Do you know where I am going tomorrow?" and I had been laughing, so I had to cover my mouth and she goes, "That was a question."
I said, "The hospital," and she goes, "That's right. And you are being a selfish little brat."
...Okay. I'm not a saint, I know that. But for Christ's sake, mom. I put off doing the dishes for a few minutes and suddenly I am the biggest brat in the whole world. Maybe I'm just complaining by now, but god damn it, I'm so sick of how she acts when she's tired.
When my mother gets tired, suddenly the world is out to wrong her, and everyone is to blame for everything. She is the victim no matter what happens. We put off doing something for a few minutes so we can finish something? Suddenly we are the most rude, selfish children in the world, and she doesn't know where she went wrong with us.
I'm not exaggerating. She literally goes on about how she doesn't know how we ended up to be so rude and spoiled and whatnot - and I have to resist telling her that she must not meet many kids our age.
Any other kid our age wouldn't do the laundry for the whole house. Any other kid my age wouldn't help take care of my siblings, walk the dogs, cook dinner and make salads, sweep the floors, vacuum the house, wash the dishes, put everything way, load and empty the dishwasher, or anything like that if asked. They just wouldn't. And even if some did, they wouldn't do it cooperatively like we do.
I just - I don't know what to do sometimes. I feel like I can't handle her anymore.
So, I did the dishes and washes the pan that the shells were in and the spoon and put everything away while keeping a totally blank face, went back to my room, and sat on my bed - and lo and behold, I can hear her start talking about what a terrible daughter I am, right outside in the living room.
I... just... I don't know anymore. I don't know. I can't make her happy, I can't do anything but upset her and play the villain whenever she's tired. And people ask me if it's difficult going to boarding school... my mom and my dad are just... I love my family so much, but I just... for some reason, in their eyes, I'll never be anything but a spoiled, selfish, self-centered brat who doesn't give a shit about her family - never has, and never will. And I'm tired of trying to fight that. I feel like crying again, hahaha. What a brat I am.
I'm tired. I'm just... really tired. I want to go back to Idyllwild. I'm sick of being here.
I don't care if I'm a brat just complaining for no reason. I'm tired of being the evil daughter who fucks up everything and is willfully disobedient and who doesn't care, the one who hates family and never listens and never does anything.
I want to go home.
...On a side note. I feel like writing. I'm really itching to write.
But mostly depressing stuff. I don't know what that means for the prompts, but I swear, I will finish those.
Eventually.
I'll also be watching some Persona 4 Endurance Run... later. Eventually. Soon. I don't know.