A Rant.
Over the past few weeks (since she found out I had a boyfriend), my mother has informed me of quite a few things. I shall summarize them here:
- I am worthless. As worthless as any one person can be. Maybe even lower than that last person.
- I don't do enough around the house. Apparently nursing school does not take up your time (see the post entitled "The Schedule" below).
- I am disrespectful. Because I am dating a black man. Yes. Disrespect to my mother because of MY choices in MY life, with MY future at stake.
- I am not allowed to have an attitude towards my mother, not negative whatsoever. Also. Her Highness (as I shall refer to Her from this point forward) believes that when She commands me to jump, I shall ask "how high," and "from where?" as if I am Her slave, not an equal. And GOD FORBID if I mention the Golden Rule.
- Because I am so worthless, useless, and so...subservient to Her Highness, I shall also amount to nothing. The fact that I have already attained an Associate's Degree in Science and General Studies, as well as being approximately 7.5 months away from attaining my Bachelor of Science and Nursing with a minor in Religious Studies, is irrelevant.
- Because I forgot to take out the trash yesterday and because I didn't put a load of laundry out on the line (because our dryer is fucked and She doesn't want to believe me), I am automatically going to fail at life. See bulletpoints numbers 1 and 2 above.
- I will be a horrible wife, and mother.
- I don't want to be part of the family (her words, not mine), so therefore I am not. Because I have things to do (such as studying for exams and whatnot), I cannot attend family functions, such as a concert that will entrap them down in Bowling Green for approximately 6 hours (The Royal Princess, The Almighty Pain in the Ass, has a concert. Her Highness obviously has to go).
The Schedule:
So, as I've mentioned before, Her Highness does not believe that nursing school takes up your life. I have an example, however, of what my schedule looks like for JUST October. AND I still have to add in 48 more hours of community clinical in...
And I understand that it's going to be hard with one car for Her Highness to work, so now it's like She can't do any real 12 hour shifts, but acts like it's my fault. I told Her multiple times about my schedule getting rough, and she doesn't believe me.
And that's just outside work. That isn't even telling you when all of my quizzes, exams, papers, and other things are. It SUCKS.
The very I-don't-fucking-care-at-the-moment Post.
Basically since Her Highness has started her crap with the disrespect and everything, I've been contemplating more and more on moving. It would suck for them, and I'd feel bad, but I just can't live in what I'm living in for much longer. I keep telling myself that by this time next year I'll be out on my own with a new job and car and I'll be in a much better place.
I'm just hoping that that is true. I mean, I know for a fact that my life isn't going to change too drastically. I'll be living out on my own, having to buy my own meals and whatnot, but I also won't have to hear Her Highness and the Two Little Women Who Could Do No Wrong complain and bitch at me, and gang up on me.
I would be able to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted without being judged for it.
Including seeing my boyfriend.
I would be able to sleep in when I could, eat what I want, even watch the television that I want to without being stuck in my room all day.
But you know what really sucks?
People tell us as we're growing up to tell others that "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."
That's a lie.
It's a fucking, in-your-face lie.
Because words can hurt. They can sting and shatter, and even tear your soul to shreds.
You bleed. Your heart aches and there's a pain in the pit of your stomach that just won't leave you alone. Betrayal seethes in your mind and your thoughts radiate around why you're being spoken to as you are.
For me, I have a really hard time not falling back into old habits.
For those of you who don't know, I used to self-harm when I was in high school. It started around 2003/2004 when I was in 8th grade going into 9th. My father had just passed away, family members were fighting with each other, and my mother had been hospitalized within a few weeks of my dad's passing.
I was in pain.
No counselors came to help out through the grieving process, my mother wasn't there to do it, and my other family members didn't really seem to acknowledge it.
So I was hurting and mad and sad. I hated that the death of my father could bring such negative feelings to the surface. So I decided that I was going to control my pain. Not him.
And I cut.
It wasn't the sight of the blood or the cry for attention. I've never been much of an attention or pity seeker, really. It was for the physical pain that it caused. It was the fact that I was causing my own pain and no one could take that from me or make it worse. I was in control.
And it helped.
For five years.
I always wore long sleeves to hide it. I relished in the fact that the pain was there and that I could just press against a cut I'd made in my wrist to cause a sharp jab, to snap me back to the present, to give me the satisfaction that even though there were bullies in my school that teased me, I could cause my own pain and didn't need them to do it.
Then, my boyfriend at the time found out when we were going to prom. He'd moved and grabbed my wrist, where I flinched and moved my arm away from him. He found the cuts and I saw the pain in his eyes, and the fear, and I felt like someone finally cared.
With his help, I stopped cutting. Well, not just his help. My friends were there to support me as well.
But now I feel as if I'm lacking that type of support. Disappointment after disappointment comes flooding in, my mother is tossing sharp words around and rooting them deep inside of me, that it hurts, and I feel like I'm spinning out of control again.
So I close my eyes and just breathe. I pray to God for strength, and I turn away from the urge to do what I'd done for years...Because I know that it isn't effective coping. I know that it could be dangerous. And I don't want to go back to that.
So even if my mother keeps telling me the hurtful things in the first post, I just have to keep reminding myself that I have an amazing boyfriend and an awesome best friend that are there for me no matter what. That if I need to cry or just hear them, then I can just call.
So in all honesty?
I don't fucking care what people think of me anymore. Not the superficial assholes, not the shallow bitches. I have what I need. I have God, my boyfriend, and my friends. I have my life ahead of me, and I have a good mind of what I want and need.
And I WILL succeed. Because success means that I have proven so many people wrong. I can smile at my mother and tell her to shove all of her superficial and racial beliefs up her ass and then I can leave.
Maybe in the future we can patch things up. But, for right now, I just have to keep on moving, ignoring her racial slants and agreeing even though she's wrong.
And I'll pray for her.
So, this is the end of the rant and everything else. Those of you who have my number can text me or email me. Others can comment below.
