Something Felt

Do you know how hard it is not to cry? Your throat hurts, tears well up in your eyes, that kind of thing. I was considering pulling over to the side of the road and bawling before I picked up Mr. Blond. But then I didn't. And on our way to where we were, I nearly burst into tears again. It's really hard not to cry.

And why, pray tell, would I cry?

It's now the official "holiday season". This is the season in which I am constantly yelled at. This is the season that I am told that I have to do all of these things and only told them as I'm leaving the house, and if I say no, I am met with glares and yelling or total angry silence. No one thinks to ask me in advance for their help. This is the season where I hear about how much money my mother has spent on everyone. This is the season in which my mother feels like bestowing gifts upon me that I probably won't like. (I have two such gifts already. I don't know why I would make out a list if she's not going to keep to it. The bad thing though is that they were expensive, and for less money, she could have bought me several of the things I wanted instead. In other words, she bought me something that she liked but I didn't.) This is the season that I, as the official daughter, have to make sure that everything gets done and that my mother doesn't freak out. Never mind that I had plans, never mind that I'm really tired, never mind that I don't want to spend three hours straight with my mother. She never truly acknowledges what I do.

I wanted to be out before this came around. I pictured sitting in my own place, thinking of what she had to do, and laugh my ass off while I ignore the phone because she'd probably be calling me to help with something. I don't think I can take another year of this. Last year, I didn't cry until a week before. This year, I'm crying now. It's going to be bad.

That, and she made me really angry today. "When I said that you have to have the car fixed," she said, "I saw the look on your face." And then she went into a speech on how they don't have very much money in their budget to help me. "Fine," I said, "let's take the car to the boy's ranch and I'll take the bus from now on." She looked at me in horror. "Are you comfortable with that?" she asked. I gave her a look and said, "How much money do you really think I have? I have parking tickets and credit cards to pay off, not to mention school." And she wanted to know how much. You know, it's not like they're going to help me out with it, so they have no right to know how much. It's none of their flippin' business. I flat out told her it was none of her business. Did that stop her? NO. It didn't. She kept pressing until I told her. I hate her. I really do. Like I'm lying about being in debt. Finally she said that she'd help with the car. I think she's the one afraid of me taking the bus. What the fuck does she think is going to happen when I move out? I can't afford a car. Is she on crack? Anyway, it's not like I have a choice in the matter. Oh, and get this: "Well, we thought you'd be gone by now. We didn't plan on you still living here." (This was in the litany of "what we owe".) I just have two words for that: FUCK YOU. I didn't plan on living with them when I went to college. I planned on moving out and going away to college. They told me they wouldn't help pay for it then. I planned on moving out after the first two years. Again, they wouldn't help pay for it at all. But I absolutely had to get a college education. I really hate it when people play these types of games with me. I really hate it. Have I not done enough for them? Have I not followed their path for me? It hurts so much...I'm going to cry. I should stop now, while I am ahead. Do you know how hard it is not to cry? It gives me a headache....