Wait, okay-- You gotta look before you go.

Monsters - Hurricane Bells.

Describes my mood currently. I realize I only write journals when I really need to-- and I have been needing to a lot lately. I guess it's normal. Moving away from home is pretty emotionally draining and, in my case, conflicting as well. I wish it wasn't. I wish it was an completely amicable event, but nothing's ever easy in life, eh? I just gotta deal. Deal. As I have with everything. I've gotten pretty good at it. Journals are a part of my 'dealing with it'. These are more personal than anything. An outlet, but posting them on Mibba is a bit easier for me. I know no one in my real life will read them. It's out in the open yet hidden at the same time. I love that about it. It's the perfect balance.

Each time I think things get better with my mom, she does a complete 180. It's not like I've done anything to provoke it. I know I own up to it when I do. I'm not eleven-teen anymore. It's just exhausting. So many years of the same crap, same mood swings. Sometimes I just don't want to get up in the morning. Makes me wonder if things were different if my dad were here, but I know it's useless to think that because I know it isn't ever gonna happen. I hate acknowledging the fact that it isn't, but I have to face reality. It's just her, my sis, and me. Soon, it'll just be them two. I honestly can't wait 'til I leave. It'll be such a relief. I need the fresh start. I want to be able to start over.

I deserve it. I hate feeling like the world is on my shoulders. I am not a mom. I have never had kids for a reason. I don't want all that responsibility. I hate it. I love my family, but they drain me. I will do everything I can, but I can't be expected to raise kids. It's not my responsibility. Never asked for it. I deserve a chance to live my own life and I can still help them. After all, one has to help oneself first before being able to help others. If I stay, I know no good would come of it. I feel like I'm losing myself each day. It's like I'm suffocating. I shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to start my own life, but I do. God, I do. So much.

I feel like I am abandoning them. And when she finds out about her. I know she says she doesn't care, but I know she does. She says she'll still love me because I'm her daughter, but I know she doesn't mean it whole-heartedly. If not, she wouldn't say 'you're always welcome in this house, but your little girlfriends will never be.' How can she mean it when she says things like that? Does she not know how much that's fucking hurting me? And then cutting off the conversation right then; not wanting to speak about it anymore. It kills me more and more each day. I'm stuck. I don't know what to do. I want to tell her, but I don't. I'm afraid of her reaction. She's already asking me who I'm going to New York for-- jokingly, of course, but it killing me each day I don't tell her. I want her to accept me and that includes accepting her as her own as well. I don't think that's too much to ask. I love her. She makes me happy; whole. Just knowing I have her makes everything bearable and knowing I'll be with her soon makes me happier then I have ever been.

Why should I feel guilty about being happy? Why? Isn't that what every mother wants for her daughter? Why should it matter who I love? Love is love. Gender is inconsequential. It doesn't matter. I just want her to accept me and mean it. I want to leave knowing that that will be the case, but I know it won't happen. And it's killing me. I just want to get the hell outta here. Maybe the further away I am the less guilty I will feel.