| 11:23a |
I've never written in here before and I was hopeing I would never have to...
I dont know what I'm exactly suppose to say or the rules of this place but I need to talk to someone.
For about a month now my life has been going down hill. My mom got a new
job working night shifts on top of her job and my dad is loosing his current
job at kodak. My parents argue constantly (which is never seen in my house)
and when they're not argueing it's me they take their anger out on. Since my
moms never home I'm the one that does the gardening, vacums everyday, does
the dishes, cleans the bedrooms/bathrooms, cooks and anything else that a house
needs to have done to it. All my mom does is come home from work and sleep,
get up, yell at me and tell me I havnt done some type of chore (even tho I have),
eat, and go back to sleep. I started living at my friend Jessicas house last week because
my mom kicked me out for yelling back at her. Honestly though, I didnt mind, Jessicas
house is like my sanctuary. Comming back home though has taken a huge toll on me.
Me and my dad have never had a relationship and now that non existing relationship
is somehow going farther into the negatives due to him constantly bitching about
things like, "when's dinner going to be ready", "Walk the dog","Wheres you mother/ how
do you not know where she is". I honestly couldnt take this anymore as of 2 days ago.
I call my best friend Laura asking her to pick me up tomorrow so she can take me to
Jessicas house and she just starts going off on me about the dumbest shit. Telling me
what she really thinks about me... She says I need to take care of my own problems...
since when are friends not suppose to go to friends with help with their problems? I broke down.
I ran downstairs, closed the door behind me, looked at my brother (Whos rarely ever home now)
and said "I'm going to kill myself" he looked at me and said, "dont say that", I said,
"No Eric, I'm going. To kill. Myself."I started crying hysterically, threw this glass dish
against the wall and just fell to the floor. Eric took me upstairs and tried to calm me down
and it almost did work, but then my dad comes inside the house from being outside on a
walk with the dog and starts yelling at me because the dog carried in dirt on the floor
and i need to pick it up. I went downstairs into the dinning room, took a knife, stomped upstairs,
looked at my brother, went into the bathroom and did it all the way up my arm. It seems
every year this happens... and i'm so sick of it. I cant live in this house anymore if
it's going to be like this.. I just want to leave. I'm scared to know what my brother thinks about me now..
I fucking hate this. |