Midnight

The Nightshade Princess
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2002-03-27 06:59:55 (UTC)

Belladonna (a long rant)

I see now that I've not updated anyone in quite some
time. As it turns out, I was correct. There WAS a crisis
of some sort that involved father, yet he refused to tell
me what it was or even where he had been that afternoon. I
attempted to write in this journal last night, yet I lost
the vast amount of words which I had typed before I could
so much as finish. What you see here is an abbreviated
version of what I had planned to type, with a far larger
update on what happened tonight.
That eve, I was an emotional wreck, so drained from my
psychic experience as I always am that I was essentially
numb and as usual very VERY distant from the outside
world. After such episodes - think "Sept. 11th," those of
you who have read my journal for any length of time - I am
always acutely unaware of my surrounding, for my mind and
soul are swimming with all manner of thoughts. Even
memories of times durig these sorts of "aftermath" are
remarkably hazy, even for me. Anyway, it was partially
because of this state that father and I got into an IMMENSE
argument, beginning at somewhere around 11:30 pm and ended
at 1:30-2am. Keep in mind, loyal readers (if you exist!),
that this was a morning in which I was required to attend
school. We even woke my brother in the next room, who
could not leave the argument once he entered, and added a
few paltry words in my defense before falling silent, then
begging father to cease his verbal tirade and let us all
get some rest.
Essentially, it began as a stupid household dispute.
It soon grew to become a battle of "why can't you be like
your brother (the same guy who is constantly getting
suspended, roams the neighborhood, has been caught smoking
cigars in the house, a thing no one does due to my extreme
allergies to the stuff, and has been knowingly smoking
pot), not to mention the lovely degrading remarks about my
character and the same bias that I have been facing since
my brother moved in. He sees no good in me and made that
very plain. I, the once A student (though no longer this,
I am not failing either like my brother), the one who
hasn't gotten herself in ANY trouble practically since her
mother left years ago! Ye Gods, that last statement
sounded impossibly egotistical/bitchy, didn't
it? ::sighs:: The argument reached basically every part
of life, and he constantly degraded me, no matter WHERE I
turned in my defense. At one point, he was telling me I
was going to have children (which I am VERY against). That
does not sound like a major offense does it? It was the
way he said it. He was saying "the child you're going to
have..." and I told him I wasn't having children. He
repeated "the child you are GOING to have.." I lowered my
voice and said again, "I don't ever want kids." He
actually blew up at me! He seems to think that I'll bend
to the will of my husband if he wants children. It was the
wrong thing to say around someone who is more than slightly
feminist. I know this sounds petty on paper
(metaphorically speaking) but I cannot capture the tones
and indeed all the subjects we talked about. That was one
example, the one I best remembered. We just don't speak
the same language. He showed me his "oh so grand"
accomplishments, and I showed him mine, but all I got were
sneers and more verbal abuse. I tried to tell him that we
just don't communicate the same way, but all I got was
that 'women don't speak straight like men, they always put
in things that don't belong,' and that basically that all I
was doing was trying to confuse him, that he was right,
along with all men. I learned more than ever that night
how chauvenistic he really is. Actually I already knew how
he was, but I didn't think he would speak so strongly of it
to my face.
This argument was so frustrating and so personally
painful that I've been "out of sorts" since that early
morn. It took me at least a half hour, probably more like
a full hour and change, to get to sleep, and I had to get
up at 5:30 the next day. That also had something to do
with my mental decline, because a lack of sleep always
triggers in me a horrid emotional state. I realized that I
can no longer live in father's house. Those chauvenistic
words were all that I needed. Even my brother notices how
much father favors him.
It is now spring break for me. I have an entire week
of peace, time to do with what I please. I elected to
spend it with my mother, an extension to the weekend she is
allowed by law to spend with my brother and I. I told
father this in THE gentlest way possible, casually and
calmly, as if I were calling to tell him I was home from
school or asking that he pick up soap whilst he was at the
store. Apparently, when my mom went to drop off my brother
to father after I so politely informed him of my decision,
he went into a rage, yelling at my mother and telling
her "I'll clean out her room." Mom dearest called me
nearly in tears, telling me what had happened, asking me
what the Hell I said to father (nearly my exact words -
"Hey, it's me. I just called to say that I wanted to
spend most of the week with mother, maybe more. We're
working on some stuff, like my dress and all, ok babe?")
Bear in mind, I call EVERYONE babe, even my parents when I
am being casual and sweet. It's one of the few slang words
I regularly use in daily life. I called him, of course.
He admitted to being "a bit bent," but said that everything
was ok. My excuse to him was that he sounded a bit mad
over the phone after he got my news (which he did), so he
never knew what mother told me, and that's always good in
preventing another family incident.
I've pretty much decided that I'm moving in here,
despite all the guilt trips father has lain upon my walking
corpse, despite all the guilt I naturally feel in
situations such as this. My living in that house is no
longer practical and certainly not safe. It's not
practical because of the basic things - different views on
EVERYTHING, the fact that I am a strict vegetarian and he
eats almost nothing BUT meat, and not to mention that I am
a spiritual, sensual, emotional being, and he is basically
the "salt of the earth" laborer type. It's not safe
because, after all the guilt trips I get over the stupidest
things, and all the confrontations, I have ended up so high-
strung, paranoid, and/or depressed (depending on the
altercation), that my mental stability has basically
vanished. All who have read this months back know of my
self-starving months, ongoing battle with self-mutilation,
and occasional overdoses on pain medication, know of the
product of common mis-understanding and mind games.
I mean... he pulls a bunch of stupid shit that adds
up. He refuses to teach me to drive, insisting instead
that I get driver's ed in school (which I've been trying to
do for years to no avail). He doesn't want to deal with me
so he pushes me on the state. He told me that if I don't
get driver's ed, I'll be the only 18 year old in my city
without a license, as if I can magically force my way in if
he threatens me like this. He and I have really nothing in
common - he enjoys outdoor, daytime activities that involve
physical activity, and I enjoy indoor activities in late
afternoon/evening/night that involve poetry, music, art,
something thought-provoking and/or beautiful. I love
coffee and museums, thrift stores, and cemeteries. We used
to share most of these until he found another woman his
age.
We used to compromise and go to the skating rink at
night (not really exciting, but occasionally humerous), go
out for coffee, take dance lessons, all sorts of things.
Now, he likes scuba diving and boating in the sun. I don't
fit into this lifestyle, and I never have, so he won't take
me anywhere. I end up sitting at home whilst he is out
with is female friend, often with my brother as well, but
usually he doesn't want my brother around at those times
these days. If it weren't for Claudia, Jenn,
(occasionally), and my mother, the only time I would see
anyone would be at school. Even on weekends, I shower,
dress, apply makeup, and do nothing until someone hopefully
rescues me. I ask, and he's usually so tired from his
goddamned activities he doens't want to do anything.
Anyone complaining? My brother and I then get a nice
lecture on how we could be cleaning his truck or mopping
the bathroom floor. The funniest lectures are about how he
does so much for my brother and I, how he buys all our food
and clothing - my mother takes me once a week and gets
every grocery I eat, with the possible exception of soy
milk, cereal, and potatoes, and how he buys every shred of
clothing I wear - my mother also takes me shopping for
clothing and/or helps me make every homecoming/prom dress.
The absolute funniest part comes next - he rants about
taking my brother and I everywhere we want to go! I don't
even get rides to the bus stop if I'm running late! He's
nearly always "too tired" or "too busy," or just doesn't
feel like it, no matter what his schedule has been. I
don't even bother to ask anymore.
It is becomming later than I need to be staying
conscious - I have to get up sometime in order to go out
with mother and look for gloves for prom, and possibly see
my long-lost best friend Fisher again (I saw him tonight -
more on that tomorrow!)


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