For those of you who didn’t already know, I’m stuck at my dad’s this week for spring break. We (me and my siblings) showed up on Friday at about 3pm, and don’t leave until around 3 on Sunday.
I don’t think I’ll make it that long.
I hate coming to my dad’s house – I hate being held responsible for everything, for constantly being yelled at, for just….feeling hated.
Today, about an hour ago, I was sitting on the couch watching TV with Phoebe and Hope, ad Tiffany, my step monster, came in from errands and started yelling like the crazy person she is. She freaked out on me for not clearing my plate from the side table after eating, and then proceeded t force everyone into the kitchen where she yelled at us and continued to ask, “Why can’t you guys put your dishes in the dishwasher??”
I do, just not always right when she tells me to. Fine. I admit it.
But I said, “I do put my dishes away,” and she YELLED, “No, you do not!!”
I said I do, because I do, and she said I don’t again.
Then she yelled about how I have no respect, how I do things on my own time, and how I’m lazy, spoiled, and how I always ask questions.
I ask questions to find things out, not to be disrespectful!! Is it that hard to understand?!?! And of course I ask if I can wait until the next commercial to clear my plate – that’s human to want to do things on your own time, but I’m not being disrespectful!! Now they’ve finally just banned me from asking questions so I just do things when I’m told. Fine!! Why didn’t you just do that in the first place – tell me to not ask if I can do it later – rather than confusing me and yelling for “asking questions.” Thanks for being specific!!!!
Not.
So I went to take my meds and she yelled at everyone to go downstairs to finish out laundry, including me when I was done taking meds.
So i took my anti-depressants (any ideas why I need them??!) and the renter, Melissa was there, so I spoke to her for 30seconds. Melissa is really cool and understands better. She knows all of us well, and she and Tiffany are good friends. So anyway, she said she wasn’t siding with me or Tiffany, to which I replied I didn’t expect her to, and then Tiffany comes up and yells at me, “She’s not your councilor! Get your ass downstairs!!”
O.o
Exccuuuussseee me?!
My dad doesn’t like the fact that I see a councilor because he thinks it’s shirking responsibilities by getting the answers from someone else (which it is not!! If you have any questions on how it’s not and if you can’t see how that logic is severely screwed then let me know and I will email you a huge explanation). And now Tiffany is of the same mindset?? What now?? But hey, that’s irrelevant, because who cares if she’s not my councilor?!?! Now I can’t talk, too????
So I went downstairs and she called my dad and thrust the phone at me after telling him to “explain to your daughter how disrespectful she is” or something like that. I was pretty out of it after hearing the “your daughter” part, and I just don’t remember her exact words.
No one gets it.
I don’t feel like recounting the exchange between my dad and I. It’s a waste of my time.
I don’t think I’m gonna last another 6 days.
I almost called my mom to tell her I want her to come and get me, 3 hour drive or not, before I kill someone (or myself), but I didn’t because she would call my dad and they would fight and he would come and yell at me for calling her and…..ugh.
They don’t get along. In fact, whenever we do something he doesn’t like he says something like, “you’re not going to treat me like you do your mom,” or “you aren’t going to live here and treat my house like you treat your mom’s.”
Tiffany, I’ve found, now does the same thing. During our argument today she said something like, “you will not act like you do at your mom’s here and be disrespectful.”
Everyone is in here yelling and being annoying fighting over the Wii. Ugh.
And I want Pizza Hut, but they don’t deliver here because we are in the middle of nowhere!!! Yet the thing is a freaking 7.59 miles away and they still won’t deliver. I’m about to go ride my bike to the place.
Hope asked Tiffany for me if we could order pizza and she replied, “do whatever you want as long as you don’t burn the house down.” Fine. How about I blow it up…? >:)
Just kidding. For now…
Anyway, I cried in my room that I share with my 2 real sisters and step-sister (fun, hm?!?!?), ended up barely making it to the toilet to barf (toaster stroodle came out like the biggest, longest loogie ever…), and then I took a shower. A cold one because there was no hot water. Now I have a headache.
Someone want to shoot me?
And to think this morning I was planning my post on my past 3 nights’ worth of dreams and how the trip with my mom to dad’s sucked just as bad as today, but now I can’t because my head hurts too much. Maybe I’ll catch up later. Maybe not. Although I hope I will because my dreams have been neat.
It’s times like these I wish I had a boyfriend (preferably within 10minutes walking distance) so I could run to his house and just curl up in his arms and…cry. And he wouldn’t care, so I’d feel better, and it would all work out.
But I don’t have someone like that.
So I’m alone. Besides friends of course… but they aren’t here and even friends can’t do what a boyfriend can at times. Comfort wise, of course.
Anyway…
I feel like shit.
-Airolyn
P.S. I put my iPod on shuffle o distract myself but that didn’t really work…”Your Guardian Angel” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus came on first, then more sad songs that I can’ type right now because I’m being forced outside by the step-monster…
Adios! Wish me…death. Please!
