I just need to get a few things off my chest. The punch line is that yesterday, the truth came out and it was revealed that I need my brother's permission to order a pizza with my money. I need his permission to start paying for Internet service with my money.
I understand cracking down when it comes to a tight budget. I understand some things have to be changed. But financially, we're okay right now; and all I wanted was an $8 lasagna. I damn sure don't need his permission to feed myself. Especially since he buys crap at the side of the road, and posters, and things that do not benefit him or anyone else. And if Mom and he can spend over $100 on cigarettes and tobacco each month with food money, then I can spend eight pathetic dollars on food with tobacco money. Sounds like a fair trade, don't you think?
I'm not a child. And I'm damn sure not his.
I'm sick of him thinking he's my fatherly figure since I don't have one anymore, and I'm sick of both of them running my life - arguing with everything I say - making everything my fault - creating all these hidden rules - metaphorically stabbing me in the back at every turn - ruining every single day I'm forced to live through.
They mock me when I stutter. They laugh; they think it's funny. They play all the songs I hate until I leave the room, they say they won't do it again, and then they do it again. They find ways to blame me for my insomnia, my depression. They insult me and they invade my space.
Our new house is going to be directly in front of a bus stop. I'm already tempted to disappear. I have been tempted for a long time, but knowing I don't have to walk far anymore fills me with a sense of bravado. At the very least I want to leave for the majority of the day without telling anyone, and just think about what I'm doing with my life.
I understand cracking down when it comes to a tight budget. I understand some things have to be changed. But financially, we're okay right now; and all I wanted was an $8 lasagna. I damn sure don't need his permission to feed myself. Especially since he buys crap at the side of the road, and posters, and things that do not benefit him or anyone else. And if Mom and he can spend over $100 on cigarettes and tobacco each month with food money, then I can spend eight pathetic dollars on food with tobacco money. Sounds like a fair trade, don't you think?
I'm not a child. And I'm damn sure not his.
I'm sick of him thinking he's my fatherly figure since I don't have one anymore, and I'm sick of both of them running my life - arguing with everything I say - making everything my fault - creating all these hidden rules - metaphorically stabbing me in the back at every turn - ruining every single day I'm forced to live through.
They mock me when I stutter. They laugh; they think it's funny. They play all the songs I hate until I leave the room, they say they won't do it again, and then they do it again. They find ways to blame me for my insomnia, my depression. They insult me and they invade my space.
Our new house is going to be directly in front of a bus stop. I'm already tempted to disappear. I have been tempted for a long time, but knowing I don't have to walk far anymore fills me with a sense of bravado. At the very least I want to leave for the majority of the day without telling anyone, and just think about what I'm doing with my life.
That's really sad...getting out for some alone time might be exactly what you need; there've been times I just had to go for a walk, to get away, to think, to just be by myself. Those times, I think I'd go crazy if I stuck around a minute longer.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you get it. I know how great they are...but sometimes I just think we're incom-patible. I know we're awfully different.
Delete:( Maybe it's that you feel too old to be bossed around like that, not that you're actually incompatible...but what do I know? :p
DeleteI definitely feel too old to be bossed around like that! But it doesn't matter. It's not going to change. If I speak up my mind, they tell me they treat me equally and properly, they yell at me for being a drama queen and making them sound like horrible people, and life continues exactly the same way. So maybe I'm both incompatible and too old.
Delete:( That's miserable...
ReplyDeleteAnd definitely possible that you're incompatible as well as too grown up to be treated like a teenager...