Imagine this:
Your mom is your door-way to your room (aka safe room), and she starts squinting. Right off the bat, besides being drunk, squinting is one of the warning signs, that something isn't right. She starts off buy saying 'You've been a cunt to me'.
Yes, that's a right, she said cunt. I mean, it's not so bad, because she been calling vulgar names since I was 3. But still. Not right.
I didn't say anything, or else it would make it worse. She goes on to say 'I think something is going on with you. I think, I think, something's wrong.'
Now, while she's saying this, in my head I'm like 'Wow, she is stating the obvious, since something has been wrong with me since the day I was born, or that's at least what she's been telling me. I wonder what warning signs she's seeing? The fact that I've been self-harming since I was 11? Or the fact that written on my walls are lyrics and 'I FUCKING HATE YOU, MOM,' (in both blood, and marker). I've been self-harming since I was 11, and I certainty remember myself indulging in loss of blood. But then I stopped, because I realized, I didn't want to die, and I did come close to passing out. And MAYBE I might have started again, but it's scarification, or that's what I like to call it. I did carve that big star in my leg, and it might look fucking awesome, and I might have numb it, cause I had to stick the blade pretty deep in my leg, if I wanted a big scar. No I don't regret it.'
I then realize my mom was squinting at me, while I had my monologue. That isn't a good sign, so I got in my battle stance (also know as, tensing muscles, cause if she's going to hit, I'd like to smack in or two) she then goes on 'I never ask you to lift a finger. You are never home. Or if yooouu aree hoome, you are always in your room.'
[in my head] Well no shit, I'm always never home. Or always in my room. I'd rather be sleeping in a ditch, then have to deal with your abusive shit. You seriously fucked up with the way you raised me' [/in my head].
And then I told her, I was a psycho bitch. And she goes
' well if I can have you home alone, if I think you're going to do something to yourself.'
And then I do what I have never done in my life.
'Mom, this is my safe room. I feel fucking safe in this room. It's not my medication. You wonder why I'm like this? Maybe because my dad is in Afghanistan. Remember that time when you got home from the hospital for your knee operation? You got in a fight with dad, and I tried to break it up, but you decided that throwing me against the wall, by hair was the way to go. Remember when you got in a fight with my brother, because he was going to Marine Crop, boot camp? I do, I tried to break it, but I got punched multiple times. I ran away that night. But came back, but you were unstable. Mom, remember the Utah trip? You had to down your beer before you slept.'
and then she goes 'I'm an alcoholic.'
'Well, no shit.' I said, and I closed my door, ending the coversation, cause I was close to tears, and I felt like kicking the shit out a worthless human being, but mainly because I had to hid my alcohol.
I miss my dad. He would have saved me.
Not registered?
Create an account