(no subject)
Dec. 10th, 2002 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I apologize in advance for the wah-wah-ness of this entry. Bear with me, I'm in a mood, okay?
Fucking x chromosomes. I think I'm PMSing. Actually, I'm pretty sure of it. I've had a little crampiness the last two days, and of course the predictable suicidal moodiness. Good times. I really, really hate this time of month. Why can't they come up with some way of doing away with it? I mean, okay, not the period itself, as it's natural. But, can't they find some way to keep your bitch-ass hormones in check? Fuck. They can clone monkeys! Let's get on the ball, scientists! Man. If they can make antidepressents and all that jazz, I don't see why they can't make PMS better. And chop, chop. Because I'm kind of tired of the monthly nervous breakdowns.
Of course it didn't help that my Mom was a fucking freak, tonight. She has a particularly fine-tuned talent of making me want to take a gun and put it in my mouth. She was mean to me all night. I heard her trying to get the door open, so I walked up there, but hadn't made it in time, because the phone rang. So I was like "Oh, sorry, I was going to unlock it for you, but I'll get the phone" and she was all "Yeah, whatever, you think you could answer the phone once in a while?" all nasty. Yeah, hi to you too. Then she saw I'd written on the message board that we needed cereal, and she got mad at me for it. When I don't let her know we're almost out of something, she gets mad at me. And when I do let her know? She gets mad at me. So, right. I told her I'd pay for it. I always offer to pay for things I'm going to eat. But it really doesn't matter. It never does with her. When she's in that mood, she'll find a reason to be mad at you. Like she did, all night. Screaming at me for all the things I do and don't do.
When I wasn't working, it was that. I work now, but she'll just look for something else, like cleaning. I did the dishes today, as I usually do, and I try to remember to keep the downstairs clean and all, but it doesn't matter. I haven't mopped the bathroom lately. So that's a good reason to be screamed at all night long. And I do mean screamed at. It doesn't matter that I say "Okay, I'll do it Thursday, on my day off." Nope. She still screamed about how I hadn't done it yet. How I don't do anything.
Before the cleaning rant though, I was feeling depressed and bored anyway, so I just wanted to go lie in bed and watch TV for a while, and then she came in and apologized for snapping at me when she got home, and was all saying why she was in a bad mood and blah blah blah. As she did after the rant, as well. And it's like, okay, fine. But stay away from me then. You know, she's not the only one to have problems. Except the difference between her and others is that she takes her problems out on others. She's all "My doctor says I could be at risk of having a nervous breakdown!" It's like, oh, really? You don't say. Gee, I didn't have one of my own, this year or anything. She's been saying that my whole life. She's ALWAYS having a nervous breakdown. And everyone has to drop their shit, take her shit, and bleed for her. And she never gives a damn. And where was she, when I had one? Oh, right, making fun of me for wanting to kill myself? Telling me that social anxiety was stupid? Telling me that my real disease was laziness, that nothing else was wrong with me? Telling me, when I said to her that she never said anything positive about me, that there was nothing positive to say? How many times has she made me want to put an end to it all? How many times have I cried, because of her? I've been there for her my whole life, and she has been there for me, sometimes. But way more often, she's made it worse for me. I'm just tired of it. Tired of everything. Her, Dad, EVERYTHING.
The thing is, it doesn't matter what's going on with her. She'll randomly decide it's Screamin' Time, and always have some excuse later on, but you know her apologies don't mean shit, because it's going to happen again. And I know that I'll never be able to explain my feelings to her. And it will never matter anyway. Nothing will change. It never does. She makes me feel so drained, so raw, like one big wound. And so hopeless. Because, like I said, I just have to take it, knowing it'll happen again. Fighting against it, and trying to tell her how she makes me feel really takes more energy than I even have at this point. And I know it won't make a difference anyhow, so why bother?
Whatever. She's done screaming at me now. But I was already feeling PMSy and moody, and like I've said before here, once I get low, I have a hard time pulling myself up out of it again. It takes me a while. It's okay, though. It does make me feel better to just vent, and know that maybe someone will be there to listen.
I do know that my Mom has impulse control problems, and anger issues. Well, much more than issues. But, yeah. I know. But, sometimes, she just makes me feel so bad about myself. And she doesn't give up. It'll be hours of relentless yelling, her pointing out all my faults. But she never really says anything to make me feel good about myself. And she says she loves me, and I want to believe it, but I don't know. She must, but. . .sigh. I don't even know how to articulate what I mean.
I'm feeling needy and lonely today, too. I hate how I need constant reaffirmation that people want me around, and like me. When I was praying last night, I was doing my usual thank-yous at the beginning, and I was saying thank you for all the people online I've met, because I don't really even want to think about how the last six or so months would've been, otherwise. I was so lonely for so long, I can't even properly express it. I mean, my old journal entries give a pretty good clue, but you'd have to go back in time and be in my body, and feel it for yourself, to really know. But, while I was thinking about it, I of course experienced my usual flash of insecurity, like "I'm all attached to these people I don't even know, who are likely not attached to me, and could get a 'life' and stop being online at the drop of a dime, and then where would I be? I thought I was alone last year? I still at least technically had Amy. I don't have anyone now. ANYONE. Not even acquaintances." But that's not probably very good to dwell on.
It's weird how writing a bunch of depressing shit can make you feel better. Well, I'm not exactly cheerful feeling, but I guess I'm all right. PMS, you know? I just have to wait it out. I hope I didn't bum anyone out. After all of it tonight, I don't even feel angry anymore toward Mom, I just feel worn out. It's like I was saying to
nehallania once, I understand why my Mom is the way she is a lot of the time, but it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. She's acting all nice to me now, like she always does after a night like this, offering to make me a milkshake, so I know she's sorry, but I just wish things were different. But, please, no one comment to be like "You should move out." Because it's not happenning now, and probably not for quite a while. So, yeah. I just needed to vent.
Fucking x chromosomes. I think I'm PMSing. Actually, I'm pretty sure of it. I've had a little crampiness the last two days, and of course the predictable suicidal moodiness. Good times. I really, really hate this time of month. Why can't they come up with some way of doing away with it? I mean, okay, not the period itself, as it's natural. But, can't they find some way to keep your bitch-ass hormones in check? Fuck. They can clone monkeys! Let's get on the ball, scientists! Man. If they can make antidepressents and all that jazz, I don't see why they can't make PMS better. And chop, chop. Because I'm kind of tired of the monthly nervous breakdowns.
Of course it didn't help that my Mom was a fucking freak, tonight. She has a particularly fine-tuned talent of making me want to take a gun and put it in my mouth. She was mean to me all night. I heard her trying to get the door open, so I walked up there, but hadn't made it in time, because the phone rang. So I was like "Oh, sorry, I was going to unlock it for you, but I'll get the phone" and she was all "Yeah, whatever, you think you could answer the phone once in a while?" all nasty. Yeah, hi to you too. Then she saw I'd written on the message board that we needed cereal, and she got mad at me for it. When I don't let her know we're almost out of something, she gets mad at me. And when I do let her know? She gets mad at me. So, right. I told her I'd pay for it. I always offer to pay for things I'm going to eat. But it really doesn't matter. It never does with her. When she's in that mood, she'll find a reason to be mad at you. Like she did, all night. Screaming at me for all the things I do and don't do.
When I wasn't working, it was that. I work now, but she'll just look for something else, like cleaning. I did the dishes today, as I usually do, and I try to remember to keep the downstairs clean and all, but it doesn't matter. I haven't mopped the bathroom lately. So that's a good reason to be screamed at all night long. And I do mean screamed at. It doesn't matter that I say "Okay, I'll do it Thursday, on my day off." Nope. She still screamed about how I hadn't done it yet. How I don't do anything.
Before the cleaning rant though, I was feeling depressed and bored anyway, so I just wanted to go lie in bed and watch TV for a while, and then she came in and apologized for snapping at me when she got home, and was all saying why she was in a bad mood and blah blah blah. As she did after the rant, as well. And it's like, okay, fine. But stay away from me then. You know, she's not the only one to have problems. Except the difference between her and others is that she takes her problems out on others. She's all "My doctor says I could be at risk of having a nervous breakdown!" It's like, oh, really? You don't say. Gee, I didn't have one of my own, this year or anything. She's been saying that my whole life. She's ALWAYS having a nervous breakdown. And everyone has to drop their shit, take her shit, and bleed for her. And she never gives a damn. And where was she, when I had one? Oh, right, making fun of me for wanting to kill myself? Telling me that social anxiety was stupid? Telling me that my real disease was laziness, that nothing else was wrong with me? Telling me, when I said to her that she never said anything positive about me, that there was nothing positive to say? How many times has she made me want to put an end to it all? How many times have I cried, because of her? I've been there for her my whole life, and she has been there for me, sometimes. But way more often, she's made it worse for me. I'm just tired of it. Tired of everything. Her, Dad, EVERYTHING.
The thing is, it doesn't matter what's going on with her. She'll randomly decide it's Screamin' Time, and always have some excuse later on, but you know her apologies don't mean shit, because it's going to happen again. And I know that I'll never be able to explain my feelings to her. And it will never matter anyway. Nothing will change. It never does. She makes me feel so drained, so raw, like one big wound. And so hopeless. Because, like I said, I just have to take it, knowing it'll happen again. Fighting against it, and trying to tell her how she makes me feel really takes more energy than I even have at this point. And I know it won't make a difference anyhow, so why bother?
Whatever. She's done screaming at me now. But I was already feeling PMSy and moody, and like I've said before here, once I get low, I have a hard time pulling myself up out of it again. It takes me a while. It's okay, though. It does make me feel better to just vent, and know that maybe someone will be there to listen.
I do know that my Mom has impulse control problems, and anger issues. Well, much more than issues. But, yeah. I know. But, sometimes, she just makes me feel so bad about myself. And she doesn't give up. It'll be hours of relentless yelling, her pointing out all my faults. But she never really says anything to make me feel good about myself. And she says she loves me, and I want to believe it, but I don't know. She must, but. . .sigh. I don't even know how to articulate what I mean.
I'm feeling needy and lonely today, too. I hate how I need constant reaffirmation that people want me around, and like me. When I was praying last night, I was doing my usual thank-yous at the beginning, and I was saying thank you for all the people online I've met, because I don't really even want to think about how the last six or so months would've been, otherwise. I was so lonely for so long, I can't even properly express it. I mean, my old journal entries give a pretty good clue, but you'd have to go back in time and be in my body, and feel it for yourself, to really know. But, while I was thinking about it, I of course experienced my usual flash of insecurity, like "I'm all attached to these people I don't even know, who are likely not attached to me, and could get a 'life' and stop being online at the drop of a dime, and then where would I be? I thought I was alone last year? I still at least technically had Amy. I don't have anyone now. ANYONE. Not even acquaintances." But that's not probably very good to dwell on.
It's weird how writing a bunch of depressing shit can make you feel better. Well, I'm not exactly cheerful feeling, but I guess I'm all right. PMS, you know? I just have to wait it out. I hope I didn't bum anyone out. After all of it tonight, I don't even feel angry anymore toward Mom, I just feel worn out. It's like I was saying to
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(no subject)
Date: 2002-12-11 12:23 am (UTC)I'm sorry about your mom.
As for insecurity, I so know what it's like. If you don't get told someone cares all the time, you start to worry that they don't. It sucks, hey? I do care, and people like dosidella and nehallania do to.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-12-11 08:24 am (UTC)