August 18, 2009

And you must scream

In interest of filling my weekly blog quota--which I've challenged myself and upped to 3, not 2--I thought I would tell you all the story of Dramatic Bust Up 09: House Party. This won't be a pretty post so if "emo" bothers you just leave.


It's a simple story involving me going straight Hannibal Lecter for a week, then screaming a lot at my dad, 30 minutes.

I have to start at the beginning but I'm not sure there is. Let's start with my birthday, which was glorious. At that point I hadn't seen my dad for a few days as it was. He was going to miss yet another birthday.

Cue me & mom returning from our outing and preparing to go somewhere else. We pass by dad's boarding house and--oh god I saw him. On the porch! He looked like Wolverine! I saw his pants! No one believed me because when we pulled around he was suspiciously gone. I looked crazy & proceeded to enjoy the rest of my day.

He missed his own birthday too. No one knew where he was. A little after this, almost inexplicably I began to rage.

Not in an outward way, at first. I was already sick & moody and then suddenly everything began reminded me of my father. The fridge, the television, the living room, newspapers...I thought I was going to have to lock myself away in my room until he got in my head. Not being able to sleep for feeling so constantly hounded by sorrow & rejection and FEAR probably sent me over the deep end.

I realized I was over the edge when I suggested we go find him and kill him. I feel like this is the only way to keep anyone in my life, if I kill them. I wanted to cut his throat with a blunt object (my phone to be exact) and kick his ribs in.

I can't even tell you how tired I am of being left alone or feeling alone. That's...just kind of how it manifests itself. That or I write.

While at the park just after witnessing a 70s updated Taming of the Shrew (which was entertaining as hell, let me tell you), I suggested we kill more people. Mom's would-be lovers, for a start, them that always took her away from me when I was a kid & would have liked to have both my parents. I suggested arson for some reason because I just reckon it'd be easier. Then I just started yelling at innocent bystanders--people in the streets that had no idea as to why I was screaming "FUCK YOU!" joyfully out the window. After dropping more F-bombs in about 3 hours than I think I have in my life I started to think.

This...isn't normal, even for me. Then the real angst started.


I began reflecting more than I had. You know, I shouldn't be so bothered--how many birthdays had I spent alone because, being born on the 7th, my birthday usually falls on a weekday? Then I remembered I'm usually sad about that too. How often had I been abandoned by my father already? Then I remembered I'm usually sad about that too.

I think I pretty much began to freak out at this point. Again I was raging--why couldn't I get a normal family? Or maybe what I want is just purely fictional ideal. I want both my parents together, not fighting, not passing blame on each other, not ignoring me. Siblings that care. Maybe some nice extended family members that I can count on. ANYTHING that's not this life.

It's a childish thought but then again, I've never been completely sure how to be the adult I'm supposed to be or that I claim to be. It was constant screaming but no sound came out, or no sound COULD come out. I mean, I'd been taught all my life not to cry because crying doesn't make things better or make things happen, does it? It certainly won't make me a better person, or maybe animosity does.

That was earlier this week. I was about to just give up and resign, I go back to school next week and I'll have to face something far worse than a fucked up home. Honestly at this point I'm just wondering if I can't stay on campus year round.

When yesterday, just like that it happened! father was found. He was alive like we knew he was, if not necessarily well. He was coming over to explain. He felt like we didn't have a right to be mad because he had problems too.

And then...that primitive clicked in again. Problems? PROBLEMS? PROBLEMS?!!


Truthfully all I'd wanted to hear was where he'd been and why he just up and left me again. I didn't have much to say, or so I thought. I came downstairs still full of tired as I hadn't slept that well and my head hurt.

I sat down and as mom got ready for work she burst into tears and began apologizing, saying she could have done better (I guess in choosing a mate--but think about that folks, I probably wouldn't have been BORN if she could "do better").


It's callous but I'd already decided that everything that had fucked with me in the past week was taking precedence over all "guilt" any external parties would have because you see...

I've had enough of people apologizing to me, crying, crying, explaining. This has HAPPENED before and I knew how the cycle was going to complete itself...but if it DID, for once I just wanted to let it be known HOW I FUCKING FEEL ABOUT THIS.

I found whatever I wanted to say. For a good half hour I laid on how tired I am of being rejected and abandoned and ignored; I'm tired of my parents blaming each other for things THEY BOTH FUCKING DO; I'm tired of considering them over myself whether or not they consider me over THEMSELVES. I'm tired of being afraid someone's going to walk out of my life forever with no explanation or so much as a goodbye. I'm TIRED TIRED TIRED OF EVERYTHING AND I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS TOO YOU'RE GOING TO HEAR MINE RIGHT NOW.

It defeated him in every way, I know. I wanted it to. When I was younger I cut because I wanted people to SEE how I was hurting. But this time, I just want others TO HURT like I do. I'm not done yet though because he has to come back a few more times before I go back to school, and mom is here too. Because when I'm upset it's "punishing" them but haven't I been punished enough?

Life could be worse & I'm attempting to make it better, and hiding my feelings until they fester isn't the way to go about it, I see that now. This isn't the healthiest way either but I have to go with what works for the time being. Maybe this will work. Maybe I'll finally be a better person if I'm able to unload all the baggage holding me down, but I wonder who's going to be left holding it?

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