Amp Hangovers.

I'd like to tell you that my life is happy, and the people that surround me are nice, and that my mother isnt repeating the argument we just had to my stepdad right now exaggerated and loud enough for me to hear. But that would be a monster of a lie. I'd like to tell you that I could spend a weekend with my mother, or even ten seconds without tension or uptightness. But that would also be a lie. Even more than that, it would be impossible. I spent friday and saturday with one of my friends. And her life is full of good things, and she doesnt realize it. We drove to a peter harris with her dad's girlfriend before she had to go to work and they had a conversation. They just talked about things, and listened to the radio. And listened to eachother. And that is so unheard of to me, because both of my parents are not the 'conversation' type of people. And I just sat there, I had no idea what they were saying because the car engine was so old and loud, but the atmosphere was happy. I was happy in that moment. And then it hit me that they were driving me home, and I almost cried. Right there in the backseat background. Because my brother would be crying and my mother would be angry and my sister would be hiding and my stepdad would be working. And everyone has their place, and mine is to stand in the background and be quiet. And you'd think she would be happy that I'm making friends, and trying to be happy. But she doesnt listen to me when I talk about the people I know. So she doesnt know them, and she doesnt trust my opinions. Which takes me back to about seventh grade, with screaming fights in the doorway of my old bedroom. Everything is too much to write in a blog. A lifetime of verbal and emotional abuse. I'm going to remember this if I become a mother. No one in this world deserves to feel this way. I told her I'm going to live with my dad. I wasnt kidding, but she doesnt listen to a word I say. A year ago, I was dead enough inside to try to leave her behind along with my brother. But I dont know if I can leave him anymore. Because If I decide to stay with my dad, I wont be coming back to this house. Its so dysfunctional, that even years and years of explaining would not make someone understand. That is not a joke, because I've tried.



I dont want to try to please people anymore. That was what I wanted when I tried to leave last year. I'm not taking the easy way out this time. I'm not going to turn to any distractions, because nothing, no one will make this better.