Self-Centered.

Apparently that's what I am.

I didn't know that I don't get a right to be upset about things that are important to me, because apparently that's selfish of me.

In retrospect it seems kind of stupid to cry over something as which room I get in our house, but I am now officially a self-centered brat anyways.

A few weeks ago, my mom did this great thing for me. She let me move into the bedroom in the basement, because she knew I was feeling cramped in my small room and that with everything else going on with my family I could really use something good. As pathetic as it sounds I was ecstatic. It wasn't as much about the size of the room as it was about the fact that there would be two whole floors between me and my family, as horrible as that sounds. I've been having a lot of trouble coping with everything that's going on, and the idea of having that space made me happier than I've been in months.

My dad decided he didn't want to stay in the same city once he moves out, hes not even staying in the same country. And I'm happy for him, because he wont be happy unless he gets some space between him and my mom. The only problem is that once he leaves my mom can't afford the house, so we had to figure something else out. My mom's friend said she'd move in with us, and pay rent, the only problem is she wants all of the basement. Including my room.

And it does sound selfish for me to be so upset over giving it up, but as pathetic as it is, it's currently all I have that makes this whole fucked up situation bearable. I know it's stupid as hell, but I can't go back to the stupid little room where I'm surrounded by my suffocating family and I don't have enough room to be comfortable.

I know it's not fair or rational, but part of me would almost rather have to move into a crappy three bedroom apartment than go back to my old room.

And yes, that is my self-centered tenancies shining through.

But when I tried to tell my mom how upset I was about the whole situation she flipped out on me, she didn't let me explain how horribly depressing it is that the only place in the whole damn house that I'm able to be happy is being taken away. She just told me I had not right to be upset, that she would've done anything to keep the house, even give up her room. But she doesn't have too, and she would never have too, because her friend would never have asked her to give up her space. Or my little sister, no one would take her room away, even though it's also bigger than the crappy ass room I get.

I feel crappy for how I feel about the situation. I don't want to resent my mom's friend for helping us, but I do and I can't help it. And I can't help but resent my parents for putting me in this situation where I end up feeling that way about a woman who's always been like family to me.

Basically the whole situation is crappy, and the only solution my mom could think of was the one that everyone but me can live with and be fine. I wish I could say this is the first time I'm the one who got screwed over, but sadly it happens more than I'd care to explain.

But hey, what does it matter right? I'm just being self-centered.