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| Ugh. Dad's being discouraging. He's pressuring me to get a job. Trust me, getting a job is important to me. I enjoy making money; books don't buy themselves. However, I think it's also important to recover from the shit I just went through. The harassment wouldn't be so bad, except that he totally disregarded what I'm working on. I mentioned how I was going to make it to 10,000 words tonight. 10,000 words is 1) a lot and 2) really good for someone who had a hard time writing. I'm sure he didn't mean to do it on purpose, I just feel like he has unreal expectations of me. Just because I packed up my stuff and left the house doesn't mean what happened hurt less. | | |
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Sometimes it's unbelievable that all of this has happened in the course of a week. Had you asked my last Saturday if this is where I thought I would be, I would have said no. But, maybe some of the best things happen quickly like that.
When I left Mom didn't hug me, say she loved me or anything of the sort. "Have a nice life.... Make good choices." It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. And I don't know what to do. I mean, part of me wants to be angry and hurt and totally forget about her and stop calling her my mother. And you know, maybe I'll get to that point. I never expected her to do that. Honestly, in a million years, I never thought she would pull that card. She just has so much hate and anger inside of her, she's like the Oogey Boogey Man.
As Dad so eloquently put it my mom is a "sick fuck." She needs help and she'll never get it because she is so stuck in her own world. She doesn't get what she's doing wrong, what she's doing to those kids. I mean, have you seen the inside of Oogey Boogey Man? That can't be good for your health!
I took the high road, smiled and said "I am." I turned around and I walked out of the house. I got in the truck and told Kelsey and Tyler to get me the fuck out of there. I hate that it ended this way. I'm going to have to work extra hard to keep a relationship with Emily, Caleb and Hanna and know what's going on with Spencer. When he realized I was leaving he started getting whiny and acting up... there's a little passive aggressive side of me that hopes he stays that way for awhile. Spencer never handles me being gone well.
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Why do you always need one more box when packing? I'm doing some serious purging of my room. Books, all my CDs, a few sweatshirts (it was painful), some clothes, my old Harry Potter blanket... I haven't looked at my shoes yet but some are going to have to go. Most of them are bad for my hip anyway!
Mom has been eerily pleasant. I don't know if it would be easier if she was being a bitch. Emily is sad, Caleb is indifferent, Hanna hasn't said anything (she'll get her own room again, she probably did a happy dance) and Spencer told me it was a "good day."
I'm excited and terrified out of my mind. In a weird way, I don't feel like I'm making the right choice-- because I feel like there was no right choice. Each had their downfalls and each had their positives. If I stayed here I could finish the semester and get another two months in on my job (I still don't have a job that has lasted a year to put on my resume), but I didn't have the garuntee that Mom wouldn't flip on me again and my main thing was that I never wanted to feel the way I did on Monday ever again. Going to Brentwood means a lot of change; finding a new job, learning to drive, a completely different atmosphere (no little ten year olds running around), it's going to be a lot of independence. That's going to be hard, but like I told my dad, having some of those things forced upon me might end up being good. I certainly wasn't learning to drive out my own volition.
So it goes. | | |
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It just keeps getting better. Mom left me a nasty note. I mean, Hitler showed more compassion then that letter did. I'm lazy, have a poor work ethic, believe that that everyone owes me something, no one needs me here, I don't help anyone... etc, so on and so forth. It was a good half page of telling me what a terrible person I was. Then it went on, explaining that she would no longer pay for my bus pass, Internet was cut (uhm, no it's not), I would pay rent, buy my own food and I would be out of the house by June 1st. All actually reasonable conditions, under other circumstances! She ended it by saying she was done and didn't care and had no guilt. "Love, Mom."
Funny way of showing it.
My first reaction was.... "now I have to go ace a Astronomy test?" (Which, btw, I bombed like we bombed the moon.) Part of me hurts. Aches. The part that believes those things. Then there's the part that is angry. Then there's the part that is sad, sad that someone could hold so much hate inside of them. It's no wonder she has to go to bed so early, she must be exhausted to be that hateful.
So, I'm really done. Done-r than your first attempt at a Thanksgiving turkey. I picked up my drop form and 99.98% I'll be dropping my classes (except history since it's online) and I'll be going up to Brentwood by Nov. 1. I don't want to drop my classes, it will put me behind, but I can't put up with this till December. The emotional toll is too much for me. When I came home from school Mom was cordial as all hell. It's stuff like that that makes me want to change my mind, it makes me feel like it's all better and it won't happen again. I used to wonder why people stay in abusive relationships, not so much anymore. | | |
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