yesterday
was the most draining, frustrating day i’ve had all week ( excluding the fifteen minutes or so i spent at work getting my paycheck and talking to co-workers and the time i spent at a dance lesson. all that was more peace than i’ve had all week, and throughout both, i think i managed to seem like a mostly happy and well-adjsuted person, i hope ), and this entire week hasn’t been too swell either. i’ve pretty much just felt like shouting, and i’ve more or less done that. only it doesn’t make me feel better. sure, i don’t feel as angry, but i still feel tired and sad. personally, i’d rather be angry. afterall, you can do constructive things with anger, like join a rollerderby team ( uh, which i’ve actually looked into ).
the only thing that kept me from packing a bag and leaving ( where to, i wasn’t really sure .. ) today was that my mother wasn’t going to let me use any of “her” suitcases or backpacks ( which were in my room -but apparently i own nothing ) to pack my things and we're out of trashbags. i was too exhausted from yelling over her yelling to even think about just using a pillowcase.
the sooner i can leave here, the better ( BUT WHEN, I SAY? WHENNN? ). although i know that we all love eachother deep down ( for now ), it’s mostly a house full of people who are fundamentally unhappy, and we spend a fair part of everyday making eachother miserable in some way, shape or form, be it intended, subtle, subconcious or not. i’m not any better either, and i get the feeling that if i don’t get out of this mess, i’m going to end up a terrible person. worse than i am now.