I greatly dislike waking up early.
I don’t think I was ever really a morning person, and having to deal with nightmares in which I hardly slept, I became friends with night owls.
I didn’t want to be alone all the time during the night, so I shared great adventures with those who deny themselves sleep. ( Which I found to be really stupid, because it does begin to take its toll on the human body in time, but oh well. Their faults to my benefit, I found company)
Being associated with these friends, helped give me something to do during my sleepless nights, and eventually I became a night owl as well, denying myself the small amount of sleep I could have had. Sleep that I needed at times.
Now with my new medication, I am supposed to take every night, and sleep roughly 8-9 hours. Now that’s A LOT of sleep, of which I haven’t had in years.
Really weird to try and get back to normal so fast. Of course I have become accustomed to wake up during the various hours of the nights, and I continue to do so out of habit.
But hey, I finally learned what its like to be lazy for oversleeping. Such an experience had become unknown to me, and to suddenly have reunited with it, lemme tell ya, it feels great.
Well, Wednesday April 11th at 9am was supposed to be my first actual therapy session. Unfortunately I read the time on the card wrong and only noticed the end time. 10:00. So, I missed it and will probably be charged a fine. Yippee. Well, I was somewhat productive this morning.
My sister has a play coming up in school soon, and she needed a castle. Silly girl actually wanted to spend part of her savings buying one at the store. But luckily for her, she has a sister who has time and can draw.
Decided to take it upon myself to design for her a castle. Sketched it, outlined it, and just waiting for her to chose the colors and color it.
Also have to design posters for the candy sale. Little bro’s soccer team is trying to raise money to be able to buy new soccer uniforms. The only team out of the whole little community organization who has poor quality uniforms. What do you expect from a town with only 5,000 residents?
Anyways pretty average day right? Wake up, take the kids to school, make breakfast and lunch, get yelled at for taking to long by mother.
Get yelled at for the bill she forgot to pay.
Get yelled at for her not being able to find her favorite pair of shoes. (which were right in the middle of the closet, mind you. )
Get yelled at for her being tired.
Get hit because. . . well, she didn’t give me a reason for that one.
Get hit again because I scrunched up my face. (sorry force of habit I do when I’m in pain.)
Get slammed into the wall for being in her way.
Get yelled at for. . . and the list goes on.
Yeah. Average day. I’m surprised my hearing isn’t gone yet.–knock on wood-
Well, this continues until she leaves for work at 3:15. Yes. She works second shift. Where? Honestly, no one in our family knows what she does or how much money she really makes.
But anyways. Picked up the kids. Helped them with homework. And went to donate blood. Almost fainted when I was there. But that happens to me just about every time I donate, so nothing new.
Now I want to get into this whole second shift job my mother has and what it means for me. Usually when I’m living in her house, which of course I’m doing now, I’m in school during the day when she’s home.
When she leaves for work I’m returning. So if I were in school, I wouldn’t see or hear from her right?
She likes to play games. That whole fear a lot of teens have about missing a call from their mother? Yeah, well, that’s me. And what would mother dearest call about? Well to yell at me of course. Or to say things to put me down. Or remind me just how much she hates me.
And no, this isn’t another pathetic little child who mopes about their mother hating them just because they couldn’t go to their friends drug party, or date that guy who’s 12 years older than her, or go outside wearing a bra and a thong. No. She’s told me.
Straight out, no lie, no breaks, no stutter, not even a blink.
Just right out.
“I fucking hate you, and despise the fact that everyday I must be reminded that I gave birth to a pathetic little bitch like you. Don’t you ever think that I accept you as my child.”
<3 Lovely, isn’t she?
But as much as I will admit all the things she’s said and done, I cant help but want her love. So, I guess I lied a few lines earlier when I said “ And no this isn’t another pathetic, little child .. . .”
Because I suppose how I feel about her is pretty pathetic. But hey, I can’t control how I feel.
I mean, suppose you were hated by your mother for 13 years? Yeah, this began when I was six, so I hardly remember a mother’s love.
But just imagine that was you. What would you do? Hate her? What will that do? You know, I tried that when I was younger and that just drop kicked me deeper into depression.
But its not like I’m not depressed either way. It just helps trying to love her, and trying to desperately change her mind on how she feels about me .
Have I succeeded? Does it look like it?
Nay. But another day, another try.
And I suppose this is the cycle that will repeat until the day I day.
But I’m young, and with time things change. So maybe one day I can be free.
-From the words I can hear her repeatedly saying over in my mind every second my cursed memory decides it best to intervene.
-From the nightmares that continue to haunt me
-From the feeling that I’m nothing, stupid, pathetic.
-From the self hate.
-From the pain of feeling like a failure for never being able to please her.
~That’d be nice.