Jun. 23rd, 2012


Jun. 23rd, 2012 06:25 pm
starfire11: (Default)
I'm angry again.

But then again, I'm angry a lot.

I don't have a right to be, honestly. "The grass is always greener..." be damned, I don't have a right to be. I know everyone has their problems. There's a thousand, thousand quotations in human culture around humanity and problems. What is man without war? If we didn't have a problem to solve, we'd kill ourselves. Exploration is in our blood, because we just get BORED and need to figure out the NEXT big thing. Be kind to all you meet, for everyone is fighting a hard battle. And so on and so forth...

But I just... I'm tired and angry and tired of being angry and dammit all, it was my birthday yesterday and nothing has CHANGED since my last birthday. If anything, things are WORSE! That debacle in Raleigh with my stepmother happened, and that debacle with the door and my stepfather happened... and all Mom and Dad do is tell me to stomach my pride, show respect, and just go with it. While they attend group therapy sessions and both their second spouses think that MY PARENTS are the mental ones.

I'm not expecting them to say "oh, it's your birthday, I guess we can just drop everything in our lives and fix this problem NOW, because the world revolves around YOU." I wasn't expecting to wake up and find that all the world's problems had been resolved just because I left teenage life behind.

But I just... I've heaped so much of the problem blame between myself and my stepparents on my shoulders (as well as a large portion on theirs), and run screaming from heaping almost any on my parents. It's not THEIR fault that the people they married are psychotic. Yeah, it's their fault that they MARRIED the crazies, but they were both desperate in their own way at the time... Mom for economic problems and Dad because he was just lonely.

I blame myself for not telling Dad not to marry this woman. There were warning signs. Yeah, I didn't know her THAT well at the time, but there were SIGNS. I already knew she was a hoarder. I already knew she was a moron when it came to basic science and how the world works. I already had a slight bordering-on-snarl-fest or two with her. And not once had I gone back and thought "the only good thing I know about this woman is that she makes Dad happy for some reason". Because I certainly didn't know anything else good about her back then (and don't know now). If I had ONCE thought that through, and put it next to the steadily lengthening list of "bad things" I already knew about her... maybe... I just... I'll never forgive myself for, as usual, NOT THINKING. Yes, it was Dad's decision. No, I couldn't have ORDERED him not to. But he would have at least LISTENED.

I blame myself for being more of a complete moron when I was little. I was even more self-centered and stupid back then. It helped fester this idea in my stepfather's head that I support him all the time, and whenever I don't, it's MOM'S doing. I know that, in his head, I'm still that little kid, blissfully unaware of the OTHER side of every problem (not his, of course, at least the parts he deigned to tell me), and innocent and agreeable. Until I do something he doesn't like and then it's MOM'S fault.

Some other person who hasn't lived with this man for so long and who didn't know him as well as I do might think "gee, it's not so bad to have someone who thinks so highly of you all the time, and who is unwilling to place blame on you, personally."

This person has no self-respect. This person doesn't mind being ignored whenever they speak their mind. This person doesn't mind being insulted because they're considered no more than someone else's appendage. This person... this person is a sad waste of human existence.

You can't buy love. Spoiled rotten as that sounds, you can't.

Buying stuff can mend little things, some of the time. Even start to mend relatively larger things or even REALLY big things. Some of the time.

But it doesn't mend everything.

What he does is he'll go to the store, buy a card, a cheap stuffed animal, a t-shirt... something like that, and then expect that to solve everything. Because the only apparent thing wrong here is that I lost my temper and need to be calmed down. He's not in the wrong. It's just me. That's all. And then EVERYTHING bad can just GO AWAY. All is forgiven.

It's nice to know that you're ignored when you're SCREAMING that you're in pain. It's so nice. It's so nice to know that you live in a house with a person who has convinced himself that he is ALWAYS in the right, no matter what ANYONE tells him. It's so nice to know that your MOTHER is trapped in a house with this person while you're away.

I'm afraid. Every day I'm away I'm afraid for her. I know what I will do if... if something happens. I'll call the cops. I make my sister come over here and we'll make sure he gets sent to jail for a long time. I'll go to my family. I'll get my friends for help. I know what I'll do. But it will still have happened, and it couldn't be taken back, by then, whatever he'll have done.

Why did I think of this now? Because I was running through what I SHOULD HAVE said when my stepmother was lecturing me late Monday night when I got back from a trip and was too tired and unprepared for it all... because, in my head, I looked at my father's face and told him WHY we still need to talk about this, even now. Why what I want to say is still relevant, especially when I've removed it from all of those details in Raleigh. Because I'm his daughter and I want to be HEARD and I'm in PAIN and either he doesn't CARE or he just can't be bothered to take the time to listen... Because she's WRONG and thinks she's right and there has to be SOME tiny portion of justice in this stupid universe... even if all I ever say is that "you made up everything that you got angry about that day - it had nothing to do with me; I just made for an easy victim for all of your frustration"... I don't CARE about proving her wrong. I don't CARE. I care about her using me as her whipping girl because she's too much of a lazy, stupid coward to realize that SHE'S the source of 99.99% of her own problems.

And now I have to go and eat dinner with her. And him. And her family. I'm happy that at least one good thing came out of Dad's relationship with her... I met her family. They are some of the best people I've met. Her sister-in-law (who she also dislikes strongly) is one of the toughest, kindest people I know. I've talked with her so much.

I haven't seen these people since that visit in Raleigh. Since my stepmother has probably spent hours and days and weeks dripping her poison in their ears: I'm such a RUDE child. I don't give her respect. I make her life MISERABLE. I steal time from her that she could spend with my dad. I'm so disrespectful. I RUINED her ENTIRE vacation.

During the school year, I am home about once a month. That means that, on average, I spend maybe a day or two at her place, once a month. Which means that I have a meal consisting of solely Dad and myself maybe once a month. Over the Summer, I switch houses every week. Dad and I have a dinner maybe once a week, which means that I have a dinner with just Dad once every other week, on average, excluding their vacation time.

She lives with him 24/7. They sleep in the same bed. He works at home. She doesn't have a real job and spends a LOT of time at home. Ignoring the fact that that's 21 meals they could be sharing EVERY week of the YEAR, it ISN'T like I'm blocking them from spending normal time together EVERY DAMN DAY.

When I'm over there, I spend 88% of the time in my room, on the top floor. The door is shut a lot. I don't make much, if any noise, and it all comes from my computer when I make any. I keep the volume down. I don't invite friends over. The time I spend out of the room is when I get meals, which I eat quickly. Or when I run downstairs to say something to Dad. And then I run back up to my room. Or I drive away.

I don't have conversations with her. I eat as LITTLE food as possible and stay away from the majority of what's in the fridge and cabinets. I don't make a mess; I clean all my dishes, throw away my trash, and clean up the area I use to eat after I'm finished. I haven't asked her for ANYTHING from the grocery store in MONTHS, or anything from ANYWHERE. I haven't asked her to run errands for me. I haven't asked her for help with anything. I haven't asked her to drive me anywhere. I don't come over there on weeks when I'm with Mom, although Dad is always open to ask me to come for some special event or something. I keep lights off as much as possible and use as little electricity as I can. I don't change the thermostat and stick with whatever she chooses. I don't have pets over there that she cares for. I don't even do laundry over there anymore, and even when I did, I did it myself, carried it down myself, and folded it myself. When we are preparing for a trip, I am up an hour early. It takes me about ten minutes to get ready to leave once I wake up. I'm sitting in the TV room, dressed, packed, and ready to walk out the door and help carry whatever people need me to and leave. I don't protest when they go out on their own together while I'm there. I don't whine when she cooks something I don't like.

I keep my mouth shut on 98% of the conversations I have with her where I would REALLY like to say something back. It's painful, but I bear through it. In fact, I keep quiet largely so that I DON'T start a fight. I stay gone so that I don't start a fight, as much as I can.

And so, in this manner, I ruin her life.


I have to go.


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