I’ve been crying all morning. . . I don’t know what to say or how to. . . Last night I spent my time trying to get away from my troubles just for the evening, but then everything merged into one festering ball of anger and sadness this morning. I finally was feeling okay around four this morning, then I was drifting off to sleep . . . then, of course, my mother is up and in the kitchen loudly clinging dishes as she puts them away from the dishwasher in the wee hours of the night. She does this all the time. She knows it wakes me up (she knows it), but she did it anyway. I tried talking to her about it over and over, but she doesn’t care, even when I had to get up at 5 in the morning to go to work she would still do this! So I lied there trying to go to sleep/wait until she was done, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked out there, leaned against the door-frame and didn’t say a word (because the last time I did she yelled at me like I had ripped her heart out and stormed off to her bedroom like a child). When she finally saw me, she said, “oh, I’ll hurry up. Go back to bed.” What could I do? I just went back to my bedroom. She continued to clang. . . As loud as ever. . . When she finally finished I heard her getting some food, making multiple bathroom trips (as my bedroom is right next to it, only divided by paper-thin walls). Finally she settled back into her bedroom right across from mine, where I heard the slam of her door, followed by the loud clanging of her utensil to her plate, to the sound of a pop-can opening. . . I just lied there, in bed, trying to sleep again. . . I thought of my relationship with the guy I’m seeing. I thought of how . . . I don’t even feel in love with him anymore. I realized how he disrespects me. I haven’t spoken much to him in days, and I haven’t cared to. I started becoming angry, though, the more I thought of our past together, but I eventually did drift off to sleep for a few moments. . . Then clang! Clang! Clang! My mother is back in the kitchen. I just try to ignore it and sleep. . . But I fully wake-up from the noise after a while and from the overwhelming smell of fried sausage links. I get up, go to the kitchen and indeed find the sausage links. . . My mother comes out and tells me that they’re for my sister. . . I’m trying to be a vegetarian, but she knows that sausage links is one of my favorite foods. . . She said she wouldn’t make them for a while in the house for anyone. . . What a damn she must be giving for me. Then she starts cooking my sister eggs, too. . . I feel hurt, I admit. . . I’ve been bleeping sick for days and did she do anything for me? Anything? No. She doesn’t care about me at all. . . So I go to the refrigerator, my mouth dry and sticky, and I just wanted the cold pop that I had asked her to save back for me, and guess what? It’s all gone. She couldn’t even save me one can of dirt cheap pop. I guess I must equal excrement to her. She tells me to drink milk, but . . . hello! Milk! Sick! Phlegm! Congestion! I sit down, tired, feeling sick, thirsty, and just depressed. I know I can’t sleep now. My sister comes out and sees her breakfast waiting for her and she digs in. . . Then my mother tells her how she couldn’t make her toast with the meal because “someone” (me) ate the rest of the bread yesterday. But that was all I had eaten yesterday period!!! Two pieces of bleeping bread! I just couldn’t believe it. I start crying and no-one even noticed or cared to comment. I just couldn’t believe it. . . My sister went to go get ready for work and my mother left the kitchen, and I just sat there with my head in my hands, trying not to make any noise.
I just think it’s so cruel. . . What did I do to deserve such a horrible morning? Why do I always get treated this way? Was what I asked for really so terrible?
I asked my mother not to cook my favorite meats for a while while I adjust (not indefinitely, just for a while), and she can’t even do that. She doesn’t even like sausage!
I asked her just to save me one pop, and that’s not acceptable either? Why? She had all the other 23 cans in there!
I asked her not to put the dishes away in the middle of the night anymore because it wakes me (and my sister) up, and that’s asking SO MUCH OF HER?
As for being sick and completely not caring, fine . . ., what-ever, but couldn’t she have done at least one of those things listed above for me? Can’t she at all when I’m the one who takes care of her, waiting on her hand and foot for the past two years? The one who got a terrible job at a bagel shop after having surgery of my own just to pay for her meds alone and put food on the table? Why am I so horrible?
Everything is just crashing down. I’m so depressed. I still can’t stop crying. I feel so worthless. Why should I even bother going to college? Why should I do anything? What does it matter? I feel like I don’t deserve anything. Today is the day I’m suppose to register for my classes. . . What does it matter? I don’t have anyone to turn to. . . Not my sister, truly not my mother, and not my boyfriend. . . I just have myself. That’s the only one who is there when I wake-up. That’s the only one who has ever been there in general, but more and more I find that I want to become more detached than I ever have been.
I took an Avinza just to try to calm me down. . . I’m not the type of person to do that kind of thing, but I find that I’ve been medicating myself a lot lately. . . I don’t want to be in my head. I just want something to look forward to, something real. . .