May need some major grammatical help. R for brief language, not that anyone really cares.
Do you know what it's like to be a little kid living in a house where you can only hear your parents arguing? And you want to yell at them that they got married because they loved each other, so stop fighting? How it feels when your life falls apart when they tell you that Dad is moving out "for a while, just to see how things work out"? How your heart breaks when the divorce is finalized, because you hoped he might come back? What it's like to only see him twice a week?
That sick feeling you get in your stomach when they start seeing other people? He spends every waking moment with some lady who owns way to many pets and who owns way too much stuff that clutters her house. And her ignorant bitch of a daughter won't shut up, and her moronic hick of a son can't keep his pants up.
Your mom dates a guy who doesn't stop talking, who tries to make you feel welcome and relate to you when you just want him to shut the fuck up and leave you alone. And then the "fun" family activities start, which aren't fun and aren't even with your family half the time, because they both love that sort of stuff. The more the merrier.
To have that secret little desperate hope shattered when HE proposes to your mom? To feel the air ripped from your lung when your standing completely still? To get vertigo when both feet are firmly on the ground? To get two "new brothers" who are already married? What it feels like when he moves in and your home changes around, physically and emotionally?
What it feels like to live in several houses, none of which are home? To come back from school and walk into a house you've lived in all your life, that looks basically like your home, but it doesn't smell and feel like it? To literally live in your own personal Hell? To actually prefer to be in school? And have your clueless mother wonder why you don't get off the computer and stop texting, or unplug your ipod? To have to try and escape?
And your escape is, sadly, school? To have the best friends in the world, who make you laugh and always make you feel better, but really don't know how you feel? They try to comfort you, but don't really know how to cheer up someone with no emotions. To be the quiet cynic of the group, who just always looks sad?
To know that you lost your old escape, which was going to your dad's house? But now knowing that you probably won't even be sleeping in your own bed, because you'll be spending the night on a couch that's too small and completely public at his girlfriend's house?
You want the world to stop. You want to take a nap. You want things the way they were. You want to go home. But knowing you can't, because you're now trapped in this Hell that's become your life? You want to scream, to cry, to kill someone, crawl under a rock, to die. But mostly, you want a hug.
But knowing you never can, because it would ruin everything? To be too giving, and maybe a masochist? To not want to destroy everyone else's happiness, even though you're miserable? To bite your lip and hold back the tears, and wait for the day that will never come, the day when things get better, the day when things go back to normal?
Do you know what that's like? No, of course not, that's just my life. You probably live some perfect life where your biggest concern is what to wear, and not that you might break down in the middle of french class.
Just remember, you can always, block out memories later. Not to mention having a home isn't all it's made out to be. My mom divorsed my dad when I was three for unknown reasons. We moved to Lousiana and the only place I really feel completely happy is in the cold. I haven't seen my dad since.
Well, you sort of get it. You get the first part, the anger, the frustration, the resentment. What you don't get is the having to hold it back, because everyone else is happy, and you don't want to destroy that. Having to act fine when everything else isn't, and having to talk to people you despise when you really don't even want to talk at all.
God Twin, you actually critiqued that? Really? I can't. It only matters if there's no meaning and really, the meaning's there, it's everywhere. And really Em? I may not know "how you feel" but I know, in a sense, how you feel (non-sensical, but I'll try to clear it up).
The 'rents yell. They scream. They fight. For hours? Seems like it. And mom cries. And I'm pissed at the both of them and then there's me in the kitchen, screaming at mom not to be such a weak bitch, to stop blowing the little things out of proportion, to grow a spine. There's me throwing the chairs. Pulling the cabinets apart. Fighting with dad. Slamming doors off their hinges. And then we go to gramma's, and we smile, like everything's fine and the 3 hour car ride was so not full of the silences that no one wanted to be the first to fill, the words that no wanted to be the first to say.
And my brother? Five years. Not one word in five years. Not a hello when he accidentally picks up the phone. Not a thanks sis when I clean up his messes. Not even a grunt. Not even one look to acknowledge the fact that I'm the reason he's not living in a pigsty.
And dad? Dad thinks I'm a fat lesbian. Dad screams my weight out to the whole waiting room. Dad calls me stupid. Dad calls me lazy. Dad freaks out over a fucking little cup of hot cocoa.
Mom? Shallow bitch, must I go shopping with you still? Because we all know you only go shopping to spend his money, to get outta the house, to postpone the fights. To keep me from screaming at the both of you two idiots.
And really? Why keep up the charade? Why pretend you're still in love when it's sometimes so obvious to me that you're not. And don't try to talk to me. Don't try to relate. Because you don't know, mom. And maybe I don't want to talk to right now because that beautiful boy who's been ignoring me for the past 3 years is really an idiot, and if I told you you'd laugh at me.
And dad, always shouting "No boyfriends!" at the top of your lungs. Please. Like an ugly fat lesbian like me could get a boyfriend. And dad, with your beer and those nights mom has to drive us home at a snail's pace on the highway because you got drunk again.
So you see Emily? I know how you feel. School's my reprieve too. And honestly? Maybe the weather's the only safe thing to talk about anymore.
Oopsies! Sorry if I offended anyone with the whole rating thing. My bad!
And also, this was very emotional for me. But I think that if I didn't write this all down, it would come out at a very inappropriate time (ex. French class, because anyone in my french class knows how emotional that can sometimes get. Well not really, it did once, but still...). Also, writing things down is a lot easier than saying them. So this was my little protest to the world. Wow, this comment is way too cheery for the topic.
But I guess I mostly wrote this because of how I feel. I can feel myself becoming bitter, angry, depressed, mournful, and so forth. I don't feel like myself, and it scares me. I never was the happiest person ever,and like I said, I'm the cynic, but before I was content. Now, I feel like I might explode.
Aw, Em, this part was really sad! But y'know, being me I loved it...
I know, friend.
My parents didn't divorce, but I was taken from them at twelve. After that, things went down hill.
To sum it up, I went crazy. Now I'm suffering from amnesia, bouts of depression, and several physical "tics."
Last night, I confess, I asked God to end my life.
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