This Side of Traumaville-
Jan. 24th, 2007 10:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
knights_say_nihStory of my day:
I start out, normal morning. Dentist appointment. Decide with my mother that we'll spend the day getting a few things done. Pick up a dress I need, for a formal ball coming up soon. Get winter boots. Pick up her new bathing suit and a formal jacket for the trip she's going on.
We do the dentist thing. All good.
About noon, she comes home, and tells me to get in the car. We'd decided we'd try to get what we could at the Salvation Army, as I want to pay for what I can of my own stuff, it's better for the environment, yadda yadda.
She informs me that she wants to go to the department store FIRST, then the Sally Anne. I tell her this is nuts, because second-hand shopping is hit or miss, so you need to go to the department store for what they DON'T have.
She tells me that anyways, it doesn't matter, because we aren't shopping for me today, it's just her stuff.
I'm upset, because it's my one day off, I hate shopping with my mother, and I have no interest in following her around. We don't have the same tastes, and she yells at me and gets stressed. I've told her this. She admits she just wanted to trick me into coming, but no, still isn't letting me get my things. Even if I pay for them, which I CAN, because I'm working as well as in school. Joy.
This sounds like such an idiotic argument. And it was, it really was, but what was bad about it was the pathetic escalation. It took three seconds to get her SCREAMING. And I wasn't polite, because yeah, but she went totally off the deep end. Totally red in the face and hysterical sobbing, and 'how could you do this to me, fuck you, you little bitch, FUCK YOU STEPHANIE.' Her yelling that is something I'm not forgetting soon, I mean, she's my MOTHER, you know? Despite everything. And she kept doing this, and I'm belted into a moving car on a busy road, and she keeps it up till we get home, then tells me I'm an abusive daughter who's ruining her life and to get the hell out of her house.
Long story short, I got.
Five minutes later I had a suitcase packed, and had phoned my dad to ask for a ride.
My dad, being a TOTAL stoner, answered with 'uh,' (in all fairness to him, he may not have been stoned, he may just have been drunk and yes that's not very fair of me but I'm angry) so I decided to hop a bus and get to school, because I know my vice principle's in and she has a very good idea about what's going on in my family, and I trust her.
I'm going to digress to describe the suitcase. It was a duffel bag, falling apart at the seams, with what I could find scooped into it; three pairs of jeans, one pair of surgical scrubs, two tshirts, one sweater, my work clothes, one bra and no panties. In way of toiletries, I went for the opposite approach- I brought everything. Medical chapstick, my yeast infection perscription, cranberry extract pills, moisturizer, hand sanitizer, make up remover (though I didn't remember make up) body butter, shampoo, conditioner, my razor, tweazers, nailscissors, and ALL THE ADVIL IN THE HOUSE because I knew my mother got headaches after she cried (hahahaha.)
Inside were also my university application papers, the rough draft of a play I was working on, my agenda, calender, passport, health card, ID and tax information, which I consider to be PRETTY DAMNED IMPRESSIVE. Even though I forgot panties and socks.
I also had the following books; 1984, American Psycho, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and a book of Vampire Erotica. Are we sensing a theme?
I get to school, cry on her for an hour or so (two pm ish) then cry more till three. Then phone my aunt to beg for accomodations, because why the fuck would I let my mother ruin my life more than she had. My aunt says I'm welcome to move in with her.
I have to be at rehearsal at five, and it's three thirty, so I walk down the hill and get a raspberry-chocolate-espresso (GOD) and go grocery shopping, where I'm distressed enough that after a half hour I only manage to buy one cheeze bun (.65$) a thing of non-fat chicken samwich meat, a tub of strawberries and a pack of gum, all of which I devoured on a bench, except for the gum which is now in my purse.
I then went to a consignment shop, which turned out to have a HUGE sale, everything fifty percent off, and for thirty dollars bought a shirt and an evening gown and handbag. To spite her.
I hitched a ride to my aunt's from rehearsal with another friend, ordered Greek on Wheels for delivery, had a warm bath and then watched TV, in my new ballgown.
All in all, an eventful day, I think.
I start out, normal morning. Dentist appointment. Decide with my mother that we'll spend the day getting a few things done. Pick up a dress I need, for a formal ball coming up soon. Get winter boots. Pick up her new bathing suit and a formal jacket for the trip she's going on.
We do the dentist thing. All good.
About noon, she comes home, and tells me to get in the car. We'd decided we'd try to get what we could at the Salvation Army, as I want to pay for what I can of my own stuff, it's better for the environment, yadda yadda.
She informs me that she wants to go to the department store FIRST, then the Sally Anne. I tell her this is nuts, because second-hand shopping is hit or miss, so you need to go to the department store for what they DON'T have.
She tells me that anyways, it doesn't matter, because we aren't shopping for me today, it's just her stuff.
I'm upset, because it's my one day off, I hate shopping with my mother, and I have no interest in following her around. We don't have the same tastes, and she yells at me and gets stressed. I've told her this. She admits she just wanted to trick me into coming, but no, still isn't letting me get my things. Even if I pay for them, which I CAN, because I'm working as well as in school. Joy.
This sounds like such an idiotic argument. And it was, it really was, but what was bad about it was the pathetic escalation. It took three seconds to get her SCREAMING. And I wasn't polite, because yeah, but she went totally off the deep end. Totally red in the face and hysterical sobbing, and 'how could you do this to me, fuck you, you little bitch, FUCK YOU STEPHANIE.' Her yelling that is something I'm not forgetting soon, I mean, she's my MOTHER, you know? Despite everything. And she kept doing this, and I'm belted into a moving car on a busy road, and she keeps it up till we get home, then tells me I'm an abusive daughter who's ruining her life and to get the hell out of her house.
Long story short, I got.
Five minutes later I had a suitcase packed, and had phoned my dad to ask for a ride.
My dad, being a TOTAL stoner, answered with 'uh,' (in all fairness to him, he may not have been stoned, he may just have been drunk and yes that's not very fair of me but I'm angry) so I decided to hop a bus and get to school, because I know my vice principle's in and she has a very good idea about what's going on in my family, and I trust her.
I'm going to digress to describe the suitcase. It was a duffel bag, falling apart at the seams, with what I could find scooped into it; three pairs of jeans, one pair of surgical scrubs, two tshirts, one sweater, my work clothes, one bra and no panties. In way of toiletries, I went for the opposite approach- I brought everything. Medical chapstick, my yeast infection perscription, cranberry extract pills, moisturizer, hand sanitizer, make up remover (though I didn't remember make up) body butter, shampoo, conditioner, my razor, tweazers, nailscissors, and ALL THE ADVIL IN THE HOUSE because I knew my mother got headaches after she cried (hahahaha.)
Inside were also my university application papers, the rough draft of a play I was working on, my agenda, calender, passport, health card, ID and tax information, which I consider to be PRETTY DAMNED IMPRESSIVE. Even though I forgot panties and socks.
I also had the following books; 1984, American Psycho, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and a book of Vampire Erotica. Are we sensing a theme?
I get to school, cry on her for an hour or so (two pm ish) then cry more till three. Then phone my aunt to beg for accomodations, because why the fuck would I let my mother ruin my life more than she had. My aunt says I'm welcome to move in with her.
I have to be at rehearsal at five, and it's three thirty, so I walk down the hill and get a raspberry-chocolate-espresso (GOD) and go grocery shopping, where I'm distressed enough that after a half hour I only manage to buy one cheeze bun (.65$) a thing of non-fat chicken samwich meat, a tub of strawberries and a pack of gum, all of which I devoured on a bench, except for the gum which is now in my purse.
I then went to a consignment shop, which turned out to have a HUGE sale, everything fifty percent off, and for thirty dollars bought a shirt and an evening gown and handbag. To spite her.
I hitched a ride to my aunt's from rehearsal with another friend, ordered Greek on Wheels for delivery, had a warm bath and then watched TV, in my new ballgown.
All in all, an eventful day, I think.
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-25 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-25 05:27 am (UTC)I can't do anything, but *HUGS* and your in my thoughts, okay?
no subject
Date: 2007-01-25 06:28 pm (UTC)I don't know what I can do, but I'm here if I can do anything.