Posts Tagged ‘fighting’

h1

escape.

October 19, 2009

I am tired of being treated like a leper.  I am tired of not being asked how I am or how my day went.  I am tired of being made to feel like I am not permitted to speak or make any noise in your presence, except in order to answer your questions or support your arguments.  I am tired of being told to be quiet and stop singing during the day, only to have to listen to the sounds of you fighting in the night.  I am tired of of being made to feel uncomfortable in the midst of your baggage.  I am tired of being accused of never listening to you, when you bombard me with so much speech that I finally have to tune out your voice in order to save my sanity.  I am tired of being made to feel that I should be neither seen nor heard, and only trotted out on an occasion when you need to feel proud of yourselves that you raised a son like me.  I am tired of being asked to move from one room to another because “I don’t belong there”, when in reality I don’t belong anywhere at all according to you, and you only want to displace me that little bit extra to make me feel more insecure.  I am tired of being misunderstood or misdiagnosed, which just proves how little you know me, love me and care about who I truly am rather than the version of who you think I am.  I am tired of being punished for having my own opinion.  I am tired of being made the scapegoat when I dare to disagree with your views which you present as gospel or unshakeable fact.  I am tired of biting my tongue.  I am tired of feeling miserable and worthless.  I am tired of wondering why I am never good enough for you, when I am more than good enough for absolutely everyone else.  I am tired of being made to feel like I am the problem.  I am tired of being on the verge of tears only to never cry.

One day, I will never warn you, but I am going to find somewhere else to live and to be.  I’m already working on it.  Then I will pack my shit, change my number, and vanish. Y0u will never see me or hear from me again.  I deserve to be free, and I finally will be. And I will not miss you.

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h1

gift.

October 10, 2009

So my birthday is coming up, and literally just now my mother asked me whether I still wanted a flat screen TV.  Originally, I was after one so that I could better see the graphics (and actually be able to read the on-screen instructions!!!) when I’m playing my Playstation 3.  But I was going to move my current TV into my ‘office’ area (where I have my printer and filing set up for uni) and according to plans my mother has to put a wardrobe in there, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.  And I don’t really play PS3 enough for it to be worth just buying a new TV.  So I’m gonna nix the gift, and now I have to think of something else!

And it’s hard but I almost got a little bit tearful for a moment there because if I could choose another gift at this moment, I just wish that my parents would stop fighting.  This last couple of weeks, it’s been really really bad, alternating between silent treatments and raging rows.  I’ve just tried to get out of their company as soon as I can after dinner, and work by myself in my bedroom / the spare bedroom / the hallway, because it’s just traumatic.  I remember when I was 8 years old, and I used to listen to them fighting upstairs and just cry and wish for it all to stop – well, I react differently now (I go and have a shower to drown out their voices; I contemplate going downstairs and telling them to grow up) but I still feel like I’m 8 years old again and a little child listening to the world falling apart.  I don’t know what to do.

Maybe this is why my little crush at uni isn’t really a crush.  I just want somebody to protect me and hold me tight and for everything to be ok.  I try and maintain the façade of having everything together as much as possible, because I don’t want anyone to know that I am actually feeling quite vulnerable, but I think I’ve let a couple of things slip that maybe betray the fact I’m quite upset about it.  When I daydream (or night-dream), it’s not really a sexual thing but more a protective thing, that somebody will hold me and not leave.  I have made my friend Mike promise that as soon as he has a decent flat available and my bursary comes through, I am going to move out because I’ve just had enough, and also I really need my own space where I can just be at ease and have my own privacy and invite people round and come and go as I please.  I don’t get on badly with my parents (after all, they’re not shouting at / being silent with me) but maybe it’s just being 23, nearly 24 and still living at home is a little constraining.

So I now have to deal with the conundrum of what to ask for as a birthday gift from my mum. (I haven’t asked if this is going to be on behalf of both of my parents, as my dad usually remembers my birthday – he didn’t buy me a birthday present once and a Christmas present another time, but that happened in the past so I don’t know if he would still forget these days.) Although I want a Gucci necklace, I don’t think I am going to mention it.  I may have a window shop today and see if I find anything that tickles my fancy, but other than someone scooping me up and telling me everything is gonna be alright, or a place to call my own (both things I can’t exactly ask for!), I really don’t know what I want.