Y'know, I'd almost forgotten what being the scapegoat of game time felt like.
I wish I still did.
I hate playing games with my family on a regular basis because it always goes downhill. If it's not my sister throwing a pre-adolescent sulkfest where all she says is, "I suck and I can't get anything right," it's my brother getting mad because he can't roll the right number, or it's me getting competitive and everyone else pissing me off to no end. There's the constant of my mom pulling her passive-aggressive crap whenever we correct her or we tell her that what she just did was against the rules we laid down earlier (which, true to form, always makes us start begging her forgiveness, as if we're supplicants at the altar of Santa Maria Ester and she refused us favor and did what we asked but always with such a bitchy attitude that we start regretting we asked her to do anything at all), and my dad who never participates but feels the need to come in the kitchen when we play and poke fun at our frustrating attempts to pantomime a roller coaster.
See, the other day was fine because we hadn't played anything in months, before I left for college. Plus it was a new game and we were having fun in our wacky pursuits. And we skipped yesterday, but we just had to have a tiebreaker tonight.
I tried to get out of it because I knew I wasn't in the mood to play a game with my family, but my mom pulled another of her spectacular guilt trips and besides, if I didn't play we'd be uneven and it wouldn't be fair on my brother (who was on my team; we'd split in half to play the group game). So I went downstairs and grabbed a Dr. Pepper in hopes to boost my mood with caffeine and sugar.
No go. We sniped at each other through the whole thing. It hit a lull, but Mom started it up again when her and my sister went for the finish line and she broke a rule we'd set up the night before. My brother and I pointed it out but she got all bitchy again and snapped, "Fine, whatever, so we don't roll for the finish," and called my sister back for the last six or seven seconds of their time - in which, I might add, they could have found another item with holes, but my mom was too stubborn to even consider it.
It ended when I got frustrated with myself for not communicating "gorilla" well enough on our charades bit and snapping lightly at my brother when he assumed I was mad at him. Mom got all pissy when I told her in response to HER question that I didn't want to play for exactly this reason and declared it a tie and the sibs agreed and packed up. I headed off to my room after some snarking ("I don't know why I bother playing, it's just like it always is in this house") and Mom cut me off and yelled at me not to be giving so much attitude. I was sorely tempted to threaten to leave, but for god's sake it's a fucking game.
Now nobody's talking to me because apparently I ruined their night. Because the whole thing was obviously my fault. I'm not going to lie and say I had nothing to do with it, but I am so sick of everything in this family being my fault when it goes wrong. Down to game night. It's always my fault. But it doesn't matter because everything I do is wrong. Staying in my room when I feel reclusive and bitchy is wrong, but when they force me out and I end up snapping without thinking, how dare I go out in public when I know that I'm not feeling social? It's always my fault, and if I do get mother dearest to admit she also screwed up, it's always done in a bitchy sarcastic manner with all sorts of passive-aggressive overtones to get me to apologize for even suggesting that she take the blame for what she did.
It always comes down to that in every relationship I have with people - I have to apologize because I'm obviously the one who's wrong, even if I didn't do anything wrong and they're the ones who screwed me over and not vice versa. I'm the only one interested in keeping the peace with the people I care about. I always always ALWAYS have to say, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that" even when I'm not and that's exactly what I meant to say and I want them to think about it instead of jumping down my throat about what a bitch I am. I am so sick of having to apologize when I don't mean it, of having to be the ONLY tactful one in any given situation, of having to be the one to think about my words as opposed to the person standing in front of me who is not required to think about anything they say and can be a total bitch to me and I'm expected to take it and fucking APOLOGIZE for it. The few times I've reversed that on people, I almost lost two of my best friends and ended up having to apologize.
*sigh* I am not in the best state of mind to be writing this right now. I'm feeling bitchy, my mother is driving me insane, and I'm having issues with Phil that aren't helping the situation. Maybe when I'm calmer, I'll update. Later.
I hate playing games with my family on a regular basis because it always goes downhill. If it's not my sister throwing a pre-adolescent sulkfest where all she says is, "I suck and I can't get anything right," it's my brother getting mad because he can't roll the right number, or it's me getting competitive and everyone else pissing me off to no end. There's the constant of my mom pulling her passive-aggressive crap whenever we correct her or we tell her that what she just did was against the rules we laid down earlier (which, true to form, always makes us start begging her forgiveness, as if we're supplicants at the altar of Santa Maria Ester and she refused us favor and did what we asked but always with such a bitchy attitude that we start regretting we asked her to do anything at all), and my dad who never participates but feels the need to come in the kitchen when we play and poke fun at our frustrating attempts to pantomime a roller coaster.
See, the other day was fine because we hadn't played anything in months, before I left for college. Plus it was a new game and we were having fun in our wacky pursuits. And we skipped yesterday, but we just had to have a tiebreaker tonight.
I tried to get out of it because I knew I wasn't in the mood to play a game with my family, but my mom pulled another of her spectacular guilt trips and besides, if I didn't play we'd be uneven and it wouldn't be fair on my brother (who was on my team; we'd split in half to play the group game). So I went downstairs and grabbed a Dr. Pepper in hopes to boost my mood with caffeine and sugar.
No go. We sniped at each other through the whole thing. It hit a lull, but Mom started it up again when her and my sister went for the finish line and she broke a rule we'd set up the night before. My brother and I pointed it out but she got all bitchy again and snapped, "Fine, whatever, so we don't roll for the finish," and called my sister back for the last six or seven seconds of their time - in which, I might add, they could have found another item with holes, but my mom was too stubborn to even consider it.
It ended when I got frustrated with myself for not communicating "gorilla" well enough on our charades bit and snapping lightly at my brother when he assumed I was mad at him. Mom got all pissy when I told her in response to HER question that I didn't want to play for exactly this reason and declared it a tie and the sibs agreed and packed up. I headed off to my room after some snarking ("I don't know why I bother playing, it's just like it always is in this house") and Mom cut me off and yelled at me not to be giving so much attitude. I was sorely tempted to threaten to leave, but for god's sake it's a fucking game.
Now nobody's talking to me because apparently I ruined their night. Because the whole thing was obviously my fault. I'm not going to lie and say I had nothing to do with it, but I am so sick of everything in this family being my fault when it goes wrong. Down to game night. It's always my fault. But it doesn't matter because everything I do is wrong. Staying in my room when I feel reclusive and bitchy is wrong, but when they force me out and I end up snapping without thinking, how dare I go out in public when I know that I'm not feeling social? It's always my fault, and if I do get mother dearest to admit she also screwed up, it's always done in a bitchy sarcastic manner with all sorts of passive-aggressive overtones to get me to apologize for even suggesting that she take the blame for what she did.
It always comes down to that in every relationship I have with people - I have to apologize because I'm obviously the one who's wrong, even if I didn't do anything wrong and they're the ones who screwed me over and not vice versa. I'm the only one interested in keeping the peace with the people I care about. I always always ALWAYS have to say, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that" even when I'm not and that's exactly what I meant to say and I want them to think about it instead of jumping down my throat about what a bitch I am. I am so sick of having to apologize when I don't mean it, of having to be the ONLY tactful one in any given situation, of having to be the one to think about my words as opposed to the person standing in front of me who is not required to think about anything they say and can be a total bitch to me and I'm expected to take it and fucking APOLOGIZE for it. The few times I've reversed that on people, I almost lost two of my best friends and ended up having to apologize.
*sigh* I am not in the best state of mind to be writing this right now. I'm feeling bitchy, my mother is driving me insane, and I'm having issues with Phil that aren't helping the situation. Maybe when I'm calmer, I'll update. Later.