How's your halo.

I never believed you. I only wanted to.


I had a few anxiety attacks today. And I wasnt even having that bad of a day. My friend lauren made me this really good bread. and I was doing okay with all my classes (kind of). Even interims (I have 70s in 2 classes, which my parents wont be happy about)(eventhough thats a really good grade for those classes) didnt bother me. The only things that bothered me were walking in the cold, and having to pee really bad in the middle of a class which the teacher wouldnt let me go.
And then I get home and I really dont feel good, because getting only 2 hours of sleep the night before because of an english project can do that to a person. And so I watch a movie, start my global project thats due tomorrow, and drink some tea. 5:00, my mother is home, with my sister and my brother. And all I can hear is my mom dropping F-bombs like there is no tomorrow and stuff falling in the garage. And then my sister takes my brothers hat and he starts screaming. And she wont give it back to him. and im sitting there curled up on the couch with a ginormous project in my lap, curled up in a blanket, with a pen in my hand. And she tells me that if its bothering me that much that i should go get his hat myself.
Well that just about ruined my day. Little things like that can happen to someone who is sleep deprived. And Meanwhile, my mother is still yelling. (nothing out of the ordinary). and so i take all my shit, turn off the movie, and go up to my room. Thats when it started. I threw my bag on the floor, and my stuff flies everywhere, and my phone breaks into about 5 pieces. and then i drop my tea mug onto the floor. and then I just stand there and turn on the old hilary duff Cd i had in my cd player ( I know, I'm old school). and then, of course, my sister (of all people) tells me that my mom wants my change from the lunch money she gave me this morning. And at that point I was way too anxious to even think straight. And so I take my old school Cds into the bathroom so i can take a shower and try to compose myself. And then my mothers voice comes up the stairs. she really needed my change from lunch, I guess. She's like frantic. And I've learned that I cant change that, and the best I can do is try to block it out of my mind. But I couldnt at that point, and when I go up the stairs to my room, I collapse on them and sit there sobbing. But I get the change to my mother and head for the shower.
It took me an hour and a half to feel like myself again.
And then I went to say goodnight to my brother.
He is the sweetest kid. I think he deserves a better mother.
But he doesnt fall asleep, like he doesnt every night. and my mother starts yelling. right then. Like she has no heart. It kills me to hear it. Like it breaks my heart and scares me to death. And I remember that I used to hear that same voice when I did something she didnt like. And then I hear my brother start crying. Not the same cry i heard when my sister took his hat. This is completely different. and it happens every night. more than once. He sounds hurt, and frustrated, and confused, and angry, and sad. All at once. And I know that so well. I've felt that way too many times with my mother.
I've learned that my mom doesnt tolerate crying. Tears, maybe. But not crying, sobbing, the kind where people need to be comforted.
And she says to him- STOP CRYING. GET IN BED. GET IN BED NOW. GO TO SLEEP.
and he just keeps on crying. And she somehow thinks that yelling louder will make him listen.
I think, she should have learned from experience with two other children. But my mother doesnt take time for other people. she never has. Not for the ones that matter, anyway. not for me.
And after listening to this for an hour, I couldnt find headphones in time to block out the noise before i started crying. I cried for my brother. And that there was nothing I could do to help him. Nothing I could say to my mother to make her stop. And all I can do is try to give back what she takes from him.
But there's really no way I could ever make up for the lack of compassion in a parent. There is no way.
And I know exactly how he felt. How you want to talk, but you cant calm yourself. And you want to tell her to stop, but you cant get the words out. And its all you can do to just breath, in and out. And it takes courage just to do that, just to breathe. And it feels like its never going to end. Its a battle you can never win. I know that all to well.
And I'm learning about parenting in the child psych class I'm taking in school.
And it teaches people not to do every thing that my mother does.
and the thing they emphasize is to give your time and attention. and I cant really say that she does either of those.
I'm so tired of writing now.
I have to recompose myself still.