Once again.

Once again, my mother made me cry.

Like so many other times, she pressured me into feelings that I don't even have.
Even though I don't deny her accusations, because I don't have proof to prove her wrong, I fight against her.
Losing every time in tears.

Today's post will be a continuation of yesterday, what happened today, and how I wish my weaknesses became my strengths. How I wish I could turn the chess board around.

I don't have any images to use for this post so it's probably long and boring ^^;;
But I'll try my best to keep you entertained.


Yesterday, after Nina went home, I spent an hour and a half or so at Starbucks. I didn't buy anything to drink, so I just sat outside, leeching the internet. ahaha XD

I realized though, that being alone and isolation are two completely different things. I mean, being alone is pretty sad. I sat there, with my laptop, thinking of a way to get home. In reality, I was alone. No one was sitting with me, no one was talking to me, and no one was paying any attention to me. Somehow though, I felt like everyone was there. I felt... so full of... how do I even put it? It just felt so different from when I'm in school. At school, I feel... isolated. I feel like... I'm forcing a wall to come up around me. Making eye contact with people is awkward, and talking with strangers, shaking their hands, introducing themselves to me... those things just make my condition worse. I flinch at the smallest things. Even if I'm with Sora, I feel so lonely. Like... rather than "I have cut off with the world", it's more like "the world has cut off with me". Like the world built a wall around me to prevent myself from escaping or breathing. It's suffocating. When I'm alone, I felt-- feel so invigorated. Like, I can open up to anything, anywhere, any time. I can accept everything. Even a stranger who walks up to me and maybe asks me for directions. I feel okay with that. There wasn't an emptiness when Nina left, there was just a want for more. More interaction and more... of this fullness. There wasn't anything like that when I'm at school. Ever.

Today, I cried. Not from hatred towards myself, or hatred for my father, or any of the stuff I've talked about on this blog. Rather, it was from the usual. The most common occurrence. My mother.

This might sound silly, but when I actually talk seriously about this, I can list so many things I hate about my mother. So many things, that I wish wasn't a part of me. I came to understand why I hate hypocrites so much. I mean sure, everyone hates them, but Sora, did you ever think it was weird how much I hated it when people were hypocrites? Like the smallest thing that was hypocritical, would tick me off enough to swear at them. Like the other day, when Nina was talking about Tracy to me. I got so angry at Tracy, because she was being a goddamn hypocrite. It wasn't even about me, it was about Nina, but for some reason, it just ticked me off so bad. Now I realize, it's because my mother does the exact same thing Tracy did to Nina.

She blames everyone else. Then hates the people who talk bad about her. Then she's entirely unforgiving, for god knows how long. It's just fucking bullshit.

Today's argument started off with the whole issue of Father's Day dinner with my mom, my sister, my dad (obviously), my nephew, my brother, and me. Here's where the problem starts: my brother talks about how my mother took my brother's money when he was half-asleep. My dad wasn't even there when he was talking about it, but my mom still got so pissed off at us for no fucking good reason. Then she STILL brought it up the next day, and what's more, in the fucking car. Don't you hate it when it's in the car? You just can't jump out of a moving vehicle and scream at the bumper, "Fuck you!" No. You have to sit there and listen to the BS until it's over. And my mom decided to fucking go ahead and do it.

One: Don't talk to me when I'm hungry. I'll get pissed and I'll just be angry until I eat.
Two: Don't make me mad when I'm on my period. Are you asking to die?

My mom decided today while I'm hungry to pick a fight with me. With her goddamn hypocritical BS. Like USUAL.

I don't even know what she says anymore. It's the same things over and over and over again, but each time, the story's fucking different. She makes up more excuses as to why her life sucks, and it's all my dad's fault, and that I love my dad more, and that I argue and defend him because I love him more. She's so fucking ignorant, like a fucking brat who doesn't know SHIT. There's no fucking POINT in trying to talk ANY sense into her because she's poor and stupid, right? YET I TRY. I STILL TRY.

And you know where that gets me?

She starts to talk to me about how it's hard for her. That she has had so many problems. That she gambles because she doesn't want to think about those things. But the fact that she doesn't see how much it's hurting me, makes her so goddamn selfish. And believe me, I know how much she hates my dad, that yeah, my dad's a dick and ruined her life, but she has pretty much ruined mine too. So when I say she has no right to talk, yet she still does, I'm fucking right.

I don't want to talk to her about her problems. I know them. Yeah, she screwed up by going with my dad. My dad is a jick, and should spend his whole life repaying back the past fifteen years of my life with good things. But just as much as it's his fault, it's also hers. She's just a bitter old woman, who only blames others for everything she could have probably fixed. She's a hypocrite, that even if we talk about her just a little bit, she's yelling at us and telling the whole world about it. Well, whatever the fuck happened to: "Don't tell your dad I said this about him." HUH? Now she's talking about dying and how I would be happier if she did. Or something like if I was never born or if she had followed my dad to Yellowknife or WTF. I'm angry at her. I'm angry, not because she said those things, but because I had thought of that.

That the only thing she has been right about, for the last fifteen years of my life, is that I have thought that maybe if I was never born, life would be better for her. That maybe if she died I would be happier. That maybe if I loved my dad, and stayed with him, I'd make both her and me happier, but, that's not true.

None of it is true. Even if I died when I was born, she would still be with my dad and with my brother. If she had died, I wouldn't have been happy. I wouldn't have known what it's like to be loved by a parent. To feel that someone worked hard to give me life. To feed me better than herself. To put me first before herself. To hold me to sleep, even if I hated her snoring and the TV she left on. Even if I had stayed with my dad, when I saw my mother again and again, the loneliness was almost too much to bear. To know that my mother would love me more than anyone else, but I couldn't give her back anything. That I couldn't repay her love by leaving her for good. To prove her right. That I loved my dad more than her and I was living with him because I loved him more, which wasn't true, no matter how many times she rehearsed it to me.

When I was younger, I dreamed that my mother was leaving me like my father did. And I cried. I woke up and cried. I looked for my mother, and asked her to sleep with me. I told her I had a nightmare. She asked me what it was, but I couldn't tell her. I was scared my words spoken aloud would make it come true.

So there you have it. Today tied the knot to the twist of my life and thoughts. To brag that my mother's love is the best might sound lame, but I wouldn't be more proud of it. I treasure it, more than I would anything else. Even if I hate my mother and how she's always wrong, I could never stop loving her.

How I wish everything else was like that about me. That no matter what, I would keep fighting. I'm not sure whether I kept fighting with my mother because I hoped that one day, she'd understand me, but I really wish I would fight just as strongly with everything else. Like in school, or with friends or trying to provoke love. I wish I could fight with everything. All at the same time, but...

I don't really know, but maybe I have a limit. Like a fuel tank or something. I can only hold so much, burn so much, and wait until I'm filled again with some motivation. How did I get here so quickly though? What have I been doing this whole year?

Really, at the beginning of the year, I was sure I was ready. I was fighting fairly well. I knew I was going to drop a little, but soon... before I knew it, I wasn't even falling anymore. I was just... at the bottom of the ocean. The pressure crushing me and popping my joints. I was here before, I was saved, I was refilled, and I ran at a good, steady pace until this year. Now it's the end, and I'm empty. I'm not moving an inch, and I can't do anything about it. I wish I could redo this year. Make sure to refill before heading in. To prepare myself, to let myself rest, and to keep my hopes away. I would've been happier that way.

I can't blame anyone, but I can still regret. I'm betting my life with this new school. I won't be able to do anything if I don't get in.
I need to start anew. I need to choose more carefully. I need to be happy again.

I don't need to think that my past should be the reason for me to fight. I don't want to make my past my god. I want to be free. I just want to be me, right now, right here.

I think I need to try.
I think I need to hope.

ウミ
P.S. Try & Hope with me.