...When no one notices. I suppose this is a good thing. I managed to keep myself from screaming and freaking the hell out at work the other day. Of course to do so meant that I bit the palm of my hand, that plump part nearest the thumb. Now its all bruised and looks like I spilled ink from a toner cartridge. It only really hurts when I use my hand, which is all the time. I plan to do some yard work today, I could explain the bruise as a mishap with secateurs, hand shears.
Its getting harder and harder to live with my parents. I seem to keep doing everything wrong. I was blamed for leaving a mess on the kitchen stove, keep in mind that I hadn't personally cooked anything for several days and it wasn't me who left the bloody mess! Makes me wonder for how long this can go on. I'm beyond tired. I took a few sleeping pills last night and blissfully did not dream once and I slept all the way through the night.
This morning was a bit odd, there was a boom of some sort. Something sonic, it made my curtain move in a way unnatural of a breeze. I'll have to keep in mind to find out what it was.
God, this has become a ramble, hasn't it? Back to coffee and Inspector Lewis.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Just Tell Me
So tonight I made dinner of chicken fajitas with bell peppers and onions and a side of salad. It was a big hit, Dad had three servings. I'm glad he enjoyed it, though it would be nice if he actually said something once in a while. I make dinner rather often and he rarely tells me if he liked it, so I don't know if I need to change something or not bother cooking it again.
Of course where his damned pride is concerned, I'll not hear the end of it. For instance, Brutus was the house last week when I got home and it was quite a shock. I'm not terribly fond of him and view him as a liar and betrayer. My father seems to think he is perfectly kind and has changed. Not from what I saw! It was an argument the moment I walked into the door. Again Dad said nothing and I had no warning. I don't care that I forgot my cell at home, just having the courtesy of a text would have been appreciated and I wouldn't have been angry at Dad. He knows that I don't like my brother. At least let me know! Bit what happens the next day? I get in trouble for not being kind to a guest! GUEST?! More like an enemy invited into the gates and given plans to the inner citadel!
Brutus also stayed the night, not leaving until after I had gone to work that morning. I had to lock my door for the first time in almost two years. He's stolen from me before and I did not want a repeat. Dad didn't like that too much and I did not care. What I did care about was having a situation made very clear to me that I was no longer wanted in this house. It seems that since I can't acknowledge that Brutus is my brother and has changed, I am being disrespectful. I view it as self preservation. This entire thing is a big ass mess which left me feeling urgy for hours afterward. A feeling that I gave into. I cut and that makes me feel like a failure. I tried deep breathing and cross stitching and knitting as distractions. No luck.
I wish I could talk to my therapist, but I won't see her for another week. I wish my health insurance would kick in, then I could see her more often.
Of course where his damned pride is concerned, I'll not hear the end of it. For instance, Brutus was the house last week when I got home and it was quite a shock. I'm not terribly fond of him and view him as a liar and betrayer. My father seems to think he is perfectly kind and has changed. Not from what I saw! It was an argument the moment I walked into the door. Again Dad said nothing and I had no warning. I don't care that I forgot my cell at home, just having the courtesy of a text would have been appreciated and I wouldn't have been angry at Dad. He knows that I don't like my brother. At least let me know! Bit what happens the next day? I get in trouble for not being kind to a guest! GUEST?! More like an enemy invited into the gates and given plans to the inner citadel!
Brutus also stayed the night, not leaving until after I had gone to work that morning. I had to lock my door for the first time in almost two years. He's stolen from me before and I did not want a repeat. Dad didn't like that too much and I did not care. What I did care about was having a situation made very clear to me that I was no longer wanted in this house. It seems that since I can't acknowledge that Brutus is my brother and has changed, I am being disrespectful. I view it as self preservation. This entire thing is a big ass mess which left me feeling urgy for hours afterward. A feeling that I gave into. I cut and that makes me feel like a failure. I tried deep breathing and cross stitching and knitting as distractions. No luck.
I wish I could talk to my therapist, but I won't see her for another week. I wish my health insurance would kick in, then I could see her more often.
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