Almost Christmas here in the U.S. That means that several hundred thousand children will be unable to get a decent amount of rest on this night. Sadly, I'm not one of those children, for my coming-of-age has already passed.

Today was nothing but going from one place to another. The landlord finally had carpet installed into the living room this day (it was removed as a desparate move to stop a bedbug invasion), but not even an hour passed after the mass that we had to leave for that. It took three hours for them to finish.

Needless to say, my temper started to flare. I still haven't patched things up with my parents, and can't leave anywhere without them supervising me. Add the fact that my brother, Daniel, went through one of his misbehavior moments, and things got really hard for me.

There wasn't a single moment where I wanted to lash out. Not as strongly as before, thanks to the antidepressant I'm taking, but still pretty strong at times. By the time they were almost done, all my control had drained me of my energy. So much for not bottling my emotions.

Even after all that, my folks seem really happy about the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus. My father tries to make each one as enjoyable as posible, no matter how tight money gets these years. This year, it's tamales for the Eve and the Night. While it's not much, it's still a warm meal and a moment with family.

Not that I don't spend time with my family. I just want more time out of the appartment. But try convincing my overprotective mother and stubborn father that.

All I've got to do now is survive two weeks of no school. Of no escape. Not going to be easy at all. Wish me luck.