I cried last night because my mom yelled at me for the gas tank being empty and me leaving the lights on and not parking in the garage. I'm so stupid.
I woke up and my mom kept asking if her shoes matched.
"do my shoes match my shirt? does the shirt clash with my pants? do my pants match my eyes? do my eyes look good tonight? will this place be cool enough? your hair looks oh so tough. this looks so good for us. tonight my moneys gunna buy me love."
She had a black eye. Apparently from something with Alaska. She was trying to block her face from her scratching her but she hit herself. I never believe her when she has bruises like that. When we lived with dad she always had the worst bruises. I am convinced he hit her.
She was all stressed out and asking me if she matched and mad that the tank wasn't filled and wanted me to drop her off at work then refill the tank. She was asking all these questions. I can't handle being asked a lot of questions when i'm already stressed out. It was like her stress was being transfered to me. She was late to work. While driving there she yelled at me for backing out of the garage too fast then not driving fast enough to get her to work on time.
"I'd like to not be late to work.." Instead of "Please drive faster" or something not indirect and bitchy. It made me more frustrated. I drove the same fucking speed. I showed her.. hah. What is wrong with me.
Then I just slammed some doors and sulked around the apartment. I am so frustrated with myself. When I got home I kept dropping things and hitting things and running into things. Why am I so clumsy when i'm already frustrated. It's impossible for one thing to suck for me. It has to be everything at once.
You know what I realized the other day at therapy.. My parents still aren't divorced. It's going on three years. Can you fucking imagine? Three years of being in between having married parents and divorced parents. It's still not final. What the fuck. I've just kind of always told people they were divorced. But I guess they are just separated. Everyone has already moved on though. My dad has a girlfriend. My mom is moved out.
"The divorce has been really hard on all of us. Especially Savannah."
Why is it so hard on me? Cause I have to go through it alone? We are all going through it alone. Except my dad. Why am I so weak? Fuck this man. I'm sick of this fragile shit. Why am I like this.. I am so fucking sick of it.
I also found out i'm stuck with AP Biology. Didn't look at the summer assignment because I was going to drop it. But i'm too late. What am I going to do? I fucking suck at science. 1 on AP Chem. I failed with flying colors. But I guess my guidence counsler thinks it's best. I hate Tallwood. I hate everyone that works there. Everyone who attends that school. It's bullshit.
One more year? that's suppose to make me feel better? Another entire year of having to deal with ignorant assholes who pity me. I'd love to say I pity them. But they wouldn't care. They think they are the shit because they can hide safely at their full lunch table from anyone questioning their social status. What's wrong with being alone? Some people can't walk from one class to the other without someone by their side. Is everyone that dependent?
"You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other, forever competing for that one moment of self aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, holding dominion over the entire SHALLOW....POINTLESS...conversation. Oh we're not worthy.When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people you chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff. It's the same superority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell, makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life BITCHING about"
No matter how hard I try explaining my mom doesn't get it. She apologizes half heartedly and then goes on talking about something completely random.
All my mother does is tell me what I do wrong. I already do that enough to myself. It's too much.
I already can't handle anything. So fucking fragile. That's so annoying. Caleb is afraid to tell me things or talk to me sometimes because of it. I can tell.
It's not that I don't want to it's that I can't.
This is me trying my best to explain. This is me failing at trying my best to explain.
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