6 October, 2007, 1018 am
Filed under: My Experience with Existence

For some security reason, I like my mother to be home and settling down when I’m trying to go to sleep.  Otherwise, I get this knot in my stomach and I start to feel nauseous, and no matter how tired I am, I cannot sleep.  I also do not like to have people in my house when I’m trying to sleep, even my cousins.  I like quiet.  And in such a tiny house, it’s hard to find that.  This is why I hate the weekends so much, because my mother thinks this curfew is ridiculous, and she thinks that we were too sheltered in Richmond (in many aspects, we were, and I’m aware of my childishness–but just because I don’t take adolescence the same way as my parents did doesn’t mean they should look down on me for it).  But when I want to go to bed after a game, man, I want to go to bed!  I’ve been sweating and playing music and fucking standing and hauling instruments.  And after parades, I’ll barrel you down.

And tonight was the Homecoming parade–march with fucking bells all the way to the park, stand with them on for an hour while playing, powerwalk back to the school without them, and then…we sat around for a half an hour, got water, walked around, and then realized that our mother wasn’t coming for us.  So we had to walk home on the highway in the dark, over the train tracks, crossing streets (and the highway), a ten-minute walk with a pit stop at Citgo.  And they showed up at ten, an hour after we arrived home, with my mother tipsy, not really caring that she had neglected to come and get us after the parade–and she was apparently SOBER when she made that choice.  Fuck.  And then she went straight over to the neighbour’s to consume MORE beer and probably laugh and make an ass out of herself.  And she’s not going to be home tonight because she’s out.  And she probably won’t come back until one or so, which means I have a few more hours of putting up with my littlest sister Alexa going back and forth crying, which I can’t stand, because Alexa makes a huge deal out of the wrong things, and has no troubleshooting skills.  And when my mother does come back, she’ll be pissed off at Alexa, maybe yelling at her for being embarrassing, or else she’ll bring my aunt back so they can talk and laugh loudly while I’m an hour into my dreams.  And then I’ll have to be up for an hour, listening to some dumb-ass adult confessional that I do not want to hear.  All these stupid secrets that I’d feel more secure not knowing.  I’m mildly curious about my mom’s relationship life, but when I hear about it and figure out how much she lies to me, it pisses me off.  All these stupid morals she thrusts on me, and she doesn’t even stick to them herself.  Maybe I should go out and drink, y’know?  Maybe I should take up smoking cigarettes and flirting obviously and blowing people off.  Her relationship advice is invalid to me.  But then, I know that I’m learning from these mistakes she’s making because that knot in my stomach is the reminder.

You know what?  Just when things are going pretty well, she’s got to do something stupid like this.  And it’s not a big deal; we’re still alive, but just the fact that she didn’t even attempt to pick us up pisses me off.  And it’s always the day before our dad comes by.  Alexa’s going to tell him everything, he’ll get angry, they’ll get into a fight and he’ll threaten to call Social Services when he picks Alexa up tomorrow, and my mother will try to fill our heads with lies about my father and why we would rather not live with him, and she’ll fill us with exaggerations and reminders and she’ll laugh about it, make stupid empty promises to make things temporarily better and break them the next day, and I’ll get more pissed until things eventually start getting better again.  And then they’ll get worse again.  I just hate weekends so much because of that nauseous feeling I get all the time.  When I’m with friends, it’s not so prominent, but then, they’re boys and they don’t want my company all the time.  So it’s always kind of there.  But I never want it to put a damper on anyone else’s weekend.  It’s not baggage for me.  I’m pretty reasonable.  I’m not going to make excuses for myself because of home life or social phobia or family life or whatever, because I know that if I’m having a bad day, it’s because I procrastinate because I’m pretty lazy sometimes.

I’ll tell you one thing’s for damn sure, though–I will not live with my father, despite the fact that he doesn’t act stupid like this.  Now that negligence is coming from both parents, though, there’s not really any place I call my “home.”  I was just born in Bethlehem, I lived in Richmond for ten years, and now I live in Lewisburg.  In houses all the time, but rarely in homes.  This is so dumb, so absolutely stupid, and I think I blame my mother for taking her newfound independence and tossing it around like she’ll never have it again.  I think I need sleep and a walk tomorrow morning and a good dosage of alone time and music and friend time.  Because some parts of today felt good, like the Powderpuff game, and lunch, and English, and even some of physics.

By the way, I was born when my mother was twenty-seven and my dad was thirty, and my parents had been married for two years.  Their families got along, and they still run into each other sometimes and inquire about well-being and are generally polite to one another.  So I’m no illegitimate child or anything, no Edmund the Bastard.  Just a regular old legitimate kid.  Ahh, music tomorrow, though.


1 Comment so far
Leave a comment

i would love to have your company at any time, but because you are about 5 hours away, i’ll settle for talking at any time. i know this whole situation must be really frustrating for you up there, but hang in there and stay strong for just a few more months till college. i’m here anytime you want to talk.

Comment by divya

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: