(no subject)
As many of you may know I got kicked out sometime in the wee morning hours of Easter Sunday. Since it's been a month, some details may be slightly skewed by a combination of memory and time.
My mom came home with the groceries at 11pm on the Saturday night like she normally does. I'm helping unload them and put them away, also as always.
So, from her position sitting at the kitchen table my mom asks me to go find her a gift bag for a board game she bought. Mother admonishes that bag shall not be Christmasy, and must be large enough for board game.
Ok. I'll scamper upstairs and brave the Linen Closet of DOOM to find a large gift bag. Takes me several minutes of digging, muttering and muffled pleas to the sheets to not bury me live. Eureka! Finally a bag that is possibly big enough. I toss it down the stairs to my waiting dad, and go back to looking for another bag in case that one wasn't big enough.
Problem #1: Board game was for a boy. Gift bag the first is pink.
Ok, I'm still in Linen Closet of DOOM. Locate another bag. Toss this down to father, continue looking.
Problem #2: Gift bag the second had a rip in it that I did not see.
Mother is now SCREAMING about how stupid and useless I am. I'm used to it. She's always stressed when company is coming over soon. The best thing to do is to not respond, so I tell my father that I'm going to find another bag and dive back into Linen Closet of DOOM.
I finally locate a satisfactory bag. (Gift bag the third is unripped, a satisfactory colour and large enough.) Return mess to closets depths, while listening to more insults on how I'm a waste of the air I breathe.
Second quest, much to my trepidation is to locate the table cloth. That's right! Back into DOOM. Once again, I am reminded to not use the Christmas cloth. Since she's still yelling I ignore her.
Problem #3: Good table cloth was not replaced last time it was used. It is crumpled on the floor of mother's closet. From underneath half of our (excessive) linens I do not hear this fact.
Time is spent searching through the Linen Closet of DOOM. Cannot locate good table cloth (duh). Locate many stained, ripped and/or moth eaten tablecloths. I make the mistake of asking if they can be thrown out/turned into rags. Mother gets up from kitchen table to holler at me some more and rip anything I pick up from my hands which is not the good table cloth. Mother generally throws these as me. At one point I was tangled up inside a stained, off white, dirty piece of cloth that I had suggested be thrown out.
I locate a table cloth that is not stained, ripped, holey, grimy nor round (our kitchen table is round). Since it's the best I've found so far, I trot down the stairs to see if it is long enough for our dining room table.
Mother, all the while belittling my intelligent, has now had me trapped behind the dining room table, for many minutes. Losing patience, I respond. Something along the lines about how I can't find it. In a loud voice. May also have screamed out how I'm not stupid, blind, nor an idiot.
Mother reminds me that she told me it was in her closet, not the linen closet. Many more belittlings, mostly aimed at my hearing and ability to understand speech.
Finally get out from behind the dining table. Go to find table cloth crumpled on closet floor. Aha!
Mother is very angry that father never put it back into the Linen Closet of DOOM. (As an aside, if she knew it was there, why did she never put it back? I was wise enough to not voice this thought... I think. I don't remember asking her that anyway) Much yelling between parents. I use this time to put our linens back into DOOM.
Mother has now collapsed on kitchen chair again. Panting, flushed, and giving all signs that her heart is about to give out again. Blame is placed on me. I suggest that we cancel company ever coming over here, since it upsets her so much.
Bad. Idea.
Forgive my language, but all hell breaks loose. Items are thrown. Yelling matches ensue. Summary (of the ones I remember) is as follows:
~Father and I are worthless because we do not make enough money
~Father and I have no say in how the household is run, what happens within the house, what is bought, or anything really, because we do not make as much money as mother
~Father and I hate mother (from her, not us)
~I am not worth the money it took to raise me
~I am ungrateful because I do not want pay an amount of rent, to live here, that would allow me to live in my own place
~I am spoiled because I've asked if I'm getting any help with school
~Father is not a good man because he says that mother started the yelling (which, I think was a stupid move on his part, but I'm glad he did do it)
~Mother needs to take a Valium (said many times by father)
~Mother is not listening (said many times by me)
At one point in time I called my grandparents and told them to not come over because I was worried the stress would kill my mother. Not a good idea on my part but we all make mistakes. I was still standing by the phone when mother found out what I had done. She reached to the phone to call them back, and I thought she was going to smack me across the face. Reflexively, I grabbed her arm. She yells at me to let go. I do, once the shock has worn off (10 or 15 seconds, tops). She steps into my space, effectively pinning me against the wall. She spits. Tells me that if I ever touch her again, she will call the cops.
Angry, frightened and beyond caring, I poke her in the arm. Several times.
She tells me to get the [explicit] out and stay out. That I had until the end of May to find a place, and then she was changing the locks and if she ever saw me here again she'd call the police and get a restraining order.
I'm writing this today because she yelled at me yesterday for daring to move out. How could I leave her. How heartless I am for leaving the family when they've clothed me and fed me since I was just a wee baby. She also yelled a bit this morning because she's still mad that I'm moving.
I must have missed something. I don't care. I can't handle this anymore. I'm out.
Mother: Don't ask in 6 months why I never call.
My mom came home with the groceries at 11pm on the Saturday night like she normally does. I'm helping unload them and put them away, also as always.
So, from her position sitting at the kitchen table my mom asks me to go find her a gift bag for a board game she bought. Mother admonishes that bag shall not be Christmasy, and must be large enough for board game.
Ok. I'll scamper upstairs and brave the Linen Closet of DOOM to find a large gift bag. Takes me several minutes of digging, muttering and muffled pleas to the sheets to not bury me live. Eureka! Finally a bag that is possibly big enough. I toss it down the stairs to my waiting dad, and go back to looking for another bag in case that one wasn't big enough.
Problem #1: Board game was for a boy. Gift bag the first is pink.
Ok, I'm still in Linen Closet of DOOM. Locate another bag. Toss this down to father, continue looking.
Problem #2: Gift bag the second had a rip in it that I did not see.
Mother is now SCREAMING about how stupid and useless I am. I'm used to it. She's always stressed when company is coming over soon. The best thing to do is to not respond, so I tell my father that I'm going to find another bag and dive back into Linen Closet of DOOM.
I finally locate a satisfactory bag. (Gift bag the third is unripped, a satisfactory colour and large enough.) Return mess to closets depths, while listening to more insults on how I'm a waste of the air I breathe.
Second quest, much to my trepidation is to locate the table cloth. That's right! Back into DOOM. Once again, I am reminded to not use the Christmas cloth. Since she's still yelling I ignore her.
Problem #3: Good table cloth was not replaced last time it was used. It is crumpled on the floor of mother's closet. From underneath half of our (excessive) linens I do not hear this fact.
Time is spent searching through the Linen Closet of DOOM. Cannot locate good table cloth (duh). Locate many stained, ripped and/or moth eaten tablecloths. I make the mistake of asking if they can be thrown out/turned into rags. Mother gets up from kitchen table to holler at me some more and rip anything I pick up from my hands which is not the good table cloth. Mother generally throws these as me. At one point I was tangled up inside a stained, off white, dirty piece of cloth that I had suggested be thrown out.
I locate a table cloth that is not stained, ripped, holey, grimy nor round (our kitchen table is round). Since it's the best I've found so far, I trot down the stairs to see if it is long enough for our dining room table.
Mother, all the while belittling my intelligent, has now had me trapped behind the dining room table, for many minutes. Losing patience, I respond. Something along the lines about how I can't find it. In a loud voice. May also have screamed out how I'm not stupid, blind, nor an idiot.
Mother reminds me that she told me it was in her closet, not the linen closet. Many more belittlings, mostly aimed at my hearing and ability to understand speech.
Finally get out from behind the dining table. Go to find table cloth crumpled on closet floor. Aha!
Mother is very angry that father never put it back into the Linen Closet of DOOM. (As an aside, if she knew it was there, why did she never put it back? I was wise enough to not voice this thought... I think. I don't remember asking her that anyway) Much yelling between parents. I use this time to put our linens back into DOOM.
Mother has now collapsed on kitchen chair again. Panting, flushed, and giving all signs that her heart is about to give out again. Blame is placed on me. I suggest that we cancel company ever coming over here, since it upsets her so much.
Bad. Idea.
Forgive my language, but all hell breaks loose. Items are thrown. Yelling matches ensue. Summary (of the ones I remember) is as follows:
~Father and I are worthless because we do not make enough money
~Father and I have no say in how the household is run, what happens within the house, what is bought, or anything really, because we do not make as much money as mother
~Father and I hate mother (from her, not us)
~I am not worth the money it took to raise me
~I am ungrateful because I do not want pay an amount of rent, to live here, that would allow me to live in my own place
~I am spoiled because I've asked if I'm getting any help with school
~Father is not a good man because he says that mother started the yelling (which, I think was a stupid move on his part, but I'm glad he did do it)
~Mother needs to take a Valium (said many times by father)
~Mother is not listening (said many times by me)
At one point in time I called my grandparents and told them to not come over because I was worried the stress would kill my mother. Not a good idea on my part but we all make mistakes. I was still standing by the phone when mother found out what I had done. She reached to the phone to call them back, and I thought she was going to smack me across the face. Reflexively, I grabbed her arm. She yells at me to let go. I do, once the shock has worn off (10 or 15 seconds, tops). She steps into my space, effectively pinning me against the wall. She spits. Tells me that if I ever touch her again, she will call the cops.
Angry, frightened and beyond caring, I poke her in the arm. Several times.
She tells me to get the [explicit] out and stay out. That I had until the end of May to find a place, and then she was changing the locks and if she ever saw me here again she'd call the police and get a restraining order.
I'm writing this today because she yelled at me yesterday for daring to move out. How could I leave her. How heartless I am for leaving the family when they've clothed me and fed me since I was just a wee baby. She also yelled a bit this morning because she's still mad that I'm moving.
I must have missed something. I don't care. I can't handle this anymore. I'm out.
Mother: Don't ask in 6 months why I never call.