what?

So... yeah... I want to apologize to the world for existing. I know I'm not really good at anything significant and that most people just look right through me. (for those of you who don't, you are more precious to me than anything in the entire universe. Thank you for putting up with me.) I mean come on... not even my parents want me anymore. That simple little realization has made me question why anyone wants anything to do with me in the first place.

Background:

Mom and I were at the optometrist this past Wednesday to order my contacts. It turns out that I only paid for about 3/4ths of my contacts, and I wanted to ask the receptionist about the bill. LOTS of people do this, right? So after I say that mom's all "No don't bother them I'll explain it to you when we get home." Well, considering the fact that mom gets confused when looking at receipts all the time, I ask anyway. and then of course she gets pissy. So then the eye doctor comes in and is talking to us, and I'm trying to crack a joke. Mom keeps interrupting me, and making me start over. Eventually she's just all "SASHA SHUSH!" and I vow not to speak until spoken to for the rest of the evening.

So mom begins bitching at me because the joke was "inappropriate" (no, no it wasn't. it was a joke about my dad and using a chocolate covered cherry as a reward for keeping his eyes open at the doctor.) and how i interrupted HER on several occasions just to tell the joke multiple times. No, I didn't interrupt her. SHE kept on interrupting ME.

So I get mad enough while we're in the car going to target (which is LESS THAN a five minute drive, I might add) that when mom stops the car and parks it, I get out, close the door, and start walking toward the building. It was either that or slap her while saying extremely rude and mean things to her. I was exercising self control. She thought I had an "attitude problem" (Well who wouldn't after being bitched at constantly for something that isn't really your fault?) and threatened to leave me there. I just smirked and said "I would prefer you not leave me here." and then she keeps bitching about how I'm an ungrateful little brat that thinks that they owe me my father's entire paycheck. and then on the way home I find out that they've been thinking about kicking me out for the past few months, and that if I didn't "straighten up" that I'd be kicked out THAT NIGHT.

Gee, thanks for letting me know that you both can't stand your daughter when she's being herself! I'll have to keep that in mind at any and all important life-events in my future. I'll also have to devise the most plain, simple, boring, ugly mask that I can possibly think of and wear it around you ALL THE TIME. because apparently that's how you want to see me, mom and dad! This physically ugly, boring, nobody person who doesn't have any opinion on anything what so ever and is extremely thankful for all the abuse she gets.

WELL GUESS WHAT?! That's not me!! I do not want to sit here every day, bend over, and take it up the ass every single time one of you are having a bad day! Because that's what it feels like!

It got bad enough that night when I came home from an unsuccessful attempt at selling jewelry that I went, crying, over to my neighbor-and-safe-haven. She's saying I should just go homeless (aka move into a homeless shelter) so I can get the help I need getting back on my feet. They'd give me the psychological help I need, help me find a job, and keep my parents as far away from me as humanly possible. They wouldn't know where I was! I like the sound of that last part.

What I don't like, however, is leaving all my stuff behind. I imagine I'll only be allowed to take a few pairs of clothes and shoes. So, no computer, no privacy, no freedom because I can't come and go as I please.

This is sad - I would rather keep what little freedom I have and stay in this abusive environment where I am forced to become somebody I'm not than be myself and get the help I desperately need.

I absolutely loathe my own mother. She keeps saying how it's "sad" that we can't do anything together because of "my attitude" ... I think she needs to look in a mirror. She doesn't know how many times I've cried myself to sleep or just run away to go cry at walmart or McDonnald's just because I don't want to see her sneering face and hear her voice putting me down (Though, after this episode, I constantly hear her in the back of my head, cutting me down and telling me how worthless I really am.) She even called me stupid and other degrading names while we were out that day! Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. I'm this close to just... breaking. completely. I already realize that I am mentally broken. She is fixing to break my emotions, and after that follows my physical well-being.

Even today, I asked about I request I made. She goes off on me, saying that she didn't have enough time to go get it, and I should be thankful for what I have, and blah blah blah. I start saying "I'm sorry" over and over again, and then when she's done she says "This is what I mean by an attitude problem." I'm sorry, what? How is being mentally broken enough to say that you're sorry over one simple request an attitude problem? So I asked, and dad came back with "It's your tone of voice that tells us you have an attitude problem." I'm sorry, what? did I hear that correctly? So, if I even deflect my voice wrong, I have an attitude problem? I think both of them need to get their eyes checked, because if they would have LOOKED at me, right in the face, or even the rest of my body language, they would have realized that no, I did not have an attitude problem, instead I have a mental problem because of mom's nearly constant belittling and dad's lack of ability to stand up for me.

Because let's face it - if I stand up for myself, it makes the entire situation worse. If I just sit and take the abuse, no matter how much it hurts, it drags out longer but it won't hurt MORE in the long run. Because, if I just stay silent, the torture doesn't get worse but it takes longer. if I say something in my defense, the torture gets shorter but the intensity of the attacks hurt more. They get more vicious and cutting. (my parents have this THING where if I don't say anything, they keep repeating themselves because they think I didn't hear them or haven't paid attention. I'm sorry, but what part of BROKE don't you understand? I'm so poor I can't even pay attention, let alone rent away from these jerk-offs!) I'm tempted to say "mom, please stop with the cutting remarks. If you REALLY want to see me hurt, I'll cut MYSELF. Is that acceptable?" I know that won't shut her up or make her sorry for her actions, but I'm hoping if I say that she'll realize that yes, I do think about it,  yes, it is very tempting, and yes, I really do need the help that I've been asking for since 2008...

It is so tempting to just watch myself bleed. I found a cut on my leg that I had unintentionally gotten recently, picked the scab, and just watched it bleed. it was beautiful to see that ruby red liquid bubble up around the cut. Part of me wishes there were more pain involved, but another part of me is grateful that there wasn't. I sort of want pain... a lot... right now. even though my parents just left for a vacation to florida without me, giving me the entire house to myself, I still want to see myself bleed. I half-want to feel physical pain. But here's the kicker, and why I haven't been shoved into a therapist's office yet: I don't have the guts to go through with it. Some INSANE part of me keeps hoping that this will get better. That Loki and I are actually going to get to move out of our old environments and create a new, loving one together. That at some point, I'll actually be ABLE to have children of my own. That eventually I'll not feel like a freak of nature, and be able to laugh at my parents the way they've been laughing at me for the past 24 and 1/2 years... that at some point karma will kick their ever loving ASSES and they'll feel every single molecule of pain that they've caused me.

I want all of those things so badly I can not only taste them, but I can smell and touch them too. I just wish I could see and actually experience them in something other than my dreams.

Well, I'm going to go force myself to eat something, though I don't really want to. (Nothing sounds good, and I can hear my mother's voice screaming at me that I'm not worth any of the food they bought with dad's hard-earned money.) I hope everyone who reads this has a wonderfully blessed day, and can eventually forget about all of the unpleasantness contained within this post.

Just because I suffer, does not mean you have to witness it.

Blessed Be,
SNT

Listening: Avril Lavigne, Nobody's Home and Christina Agulera's Voice Within (I only wish I could believe this last one...)
Eating: Scalloped Potatoes and ham
Drinking: Diet Coke