@Driftwood: Speedy replies.

I understand, he’s already becoming less and less bothersome. I’m reaching a point where I find myself thinking “what else could he say?”. I’ve already boo-hoo’d at basically everything negative he’s said about me, and now I’m pretty much over it. But it’s also understandable as to why it hit me worse in the past few years, because he’s been preying on me since I was just turning 13. And most 13 year olds don’t get that much negative attention towards them, and they don’t know how to handle it.

There was some talk in the living room a while ago that bothered me a bit. Mother dragged me grocery shopping a few weeks ago, and got me to help with bagging and such (when I wasn’t busy panicking, due to the large amount of people). She reported this to him (as she usually does with everything, and that’s why I can’t tell her anything) and he replied with “yeah, try to make that a habit”. I get it, I’m a lazy slob who’s never had a chore before, but it feels a little degrading to have a baboon try to train my mother to put me to work. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but the thought genuinely makes me want to hurt something. (Not that I will.)

And thank you, for your comment on the painting. I wanted something that pictured the statement “together, but alone”, since it is long-distance, and him and I are rather alienated people. Oddballs, as some might say.

@Anita: Your examination on the statement does make a lot of sense. I know you’ve briefly gone over it before, but what exactly does heal a “wound”, then?

And thanks, I think I understand what core beliefs are, now. Just simple statements that you believe in, it seems.

–

Sorry for my limited amounts of writing, I’m still very wiped out from this past weekend. I had to babysit my two friends from Friday to Sunday, and my anxiety was haywire, so I didn’t get much of any sleep. One of my friends decided we should go shopping on black friday, and so I spent the majority of Friday panicking in big crowds. Friday night/morning was spent trembling, having short nightmares and bleaching my roots. Saturday was spent napping, Saturday night was a mini panick attack, because I thought one of my friends was mad at me (after she left). Sunday was spent napping.

Also irrelevant, but we ran out of hair bleach, (it’s not light enough to put the blue dye in yet, because it would turn green, right now) so now I have a pretty obvious insecurity that makes going out in public awful. The top half of my hair is very yellow, and the bottom half is a faded blue. Hats and hoods are my current best friends. Mom keeps giving me “soon, soon” about getting more bleach. If I haven’t mentioned it, she loves to put off everything. Pray for my hair and I.

@Anita: That does seem like a very proper way to heal. If only such was obtainable for me, but lord knows I’m trying my hardest.

—

The new management at these apartments have been making all the wrong moves, and now, mom wants us to move. This could be both good, and bad.

She wants to go big (we currently live in an 800 Sq ft apartment, she’s thinking a 2500 sq ft house) but big means expensive, which also could mean roommates. I assume she’d accept anyone who’d take the offer, and I heard him offering one of his coworkers the roommate position.

Why this could be good is because I could get a whole hell lot more of space to hide, and live in my own bubble. As to why this could be bad, I really don’t want to live with 2 emotionally abuse twats at once, because one has already been enough for me to consider taking all the pills I can find in the house.

In fact, living with another stranger of any kind is a terrible idea. Even less privacy. But then again, I don’t pay the rent, do I? (If I was productive at anything at life, I would shut up, get a job across the street, and pitch in with rent.)

And there’s no one specific destination in mind, which means that this new place could be even farther from the charter school. I heard him really trying to persuade her into one house that’s over 30 minutes away from the charter school, by car. I told her I want something close to it (because it’s one of the very, very few things I look forward to), but then again, I don’t pay the rent. Whatever happens, happens.

Also, mother was helping me bleach my hair again today. He was on the phone in their room, next to the bathroom. She left for a second, to take the dogs out back, and he suddenly to decides to randomly, and loudly, bring the statement “y’know, kids born in the northwest are soft.” into his conversation.

Something about that made my blood boil. Not only is it a brain-rotting kind of stupid generalization, something a first grader would say on the playground, before sticking his taunting tongue between his tooth gap, where he lost a baby tooth the night before. But you’re telling me that I put up with your shenanigans for 3 or so years to be called “soft”? And excuse me, but most any 13-16 year old would probably meet his definition of “soft”, unless they had a bowl of thumbtacks for breakfast. Oh, if only I had the physical strength to uppercut him. He truly, truly deserves it.

I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him. He’s genuinely driving me mad, and spending another 1 year and 10 months in this household might actually be the death of me. -huff, huff-

Please, anyone, give me some reasonable thoughts. My mind is rushing with nothing but angst, and pure hatred towards him. When he says those little, indirect and immature put-downs, it completely shatters my entire day. I could’ve just won the lottery, if I was old enough to enter it, and he could say something, anything, and I would be completely pissed. Even if it’s just a recycled comment, or something on about how much of a lazy, good-for-nothing twat I am, it still affects me in the same way.

(And again, I do understand I am lazy and helpless, but him saying something will not change that. For anything, it’ll make me feel challenged to continue being lazy, just so he can bitch and moan more, even if that doesn’t benefit either of us. If he actually wants me to do anything, for my own benefit, he could teach me how to do something. But at this point, the trust was trampled long ago, and there’s no point to any of it, now. I won’t even look him in the eye.)

@Anita: I don’t quite see any benefit from doing so.

There would be no real purpose. He already knows what he says irritates me, and that’s why he says what he does. The only thing it’d do is give this household another elephant in the room; something uncomfortable that they’ll forget about in a week. What could be the best outcome, out of that? What would I even say?

Worst case scenario, I stand up for myself, and he mocks my response. Then, I’ll overhear another whispered argument about how lazy I am. We might have another “family meeting” the day afterwards, where mother forces him to apologize, and he does nothing but make a false promise to never mock me again. It usually happens again, after a month. It’s just a lot more emotionally draining than I’m willing to handle. Punching bags don’t fight back for a reason.

Knowing hurts. Being able to overanalyze a situation and see the real depth to every word and action hurts. Even when he’s not trying to attack me, his subconscious mannerisms still show how much he doesn’t want me in this household. There’s this aura (or “vibe”) I can’t really explain, but it’s very “I own this place, yeah, I’m top dog” that comes off of him. A pseudo confidence. It’s very degrading to be around, and makes me feel small. Of course I see through it, and I know I’m the better person, but that doesn’t make it any less bothersome to put up with. It doesn’t make me sad, as much as it makes me want to roll my eyes. I’m kind of talking in circles, but hopefully, you get the point.

@Anita: Correct; there’s never been any physical harm at all, unless it was something self-inflicted. (“Self-inflicted” being like the time he was walking in my direction, so I panicked and threw myself at the recliner, next to me. That was caused by him, because I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t in his way.)

@Anita: The real key word here is “indirect”.

He tries hard to cover up his tracks by dressing up an insult in a disguise. The disguise is usually a “joke”. So if I were to reply back, he would claim it’s only a joke. The contents of the “joke” can be on a variety of any of my weaknesses. (Weaknesses include: being too quiet, being glued to my phone, getting offended easily by his “jokes”, not having “amazing social skills” like his daughter, not doing any chores, leaching off of my mother, spending “too much” time with my mother, not getting a job within the first two months of being old enough to apply, etc). Those are all things he’s “joked” about. These “jokes” usually do come up in conversation between him and my mother, but he’s done it in front of me, many times.

There’s a big grey area, where some of his jokes lie. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m being oversensitive, or if they’re just really not okay. There is no real rulebook on it. The only reason I dare justify any of it as the very loosely used term of “abuse”, is for the simple fact that my counselor has stated that it’s common practice for emotional abusers to make hurtful jokes.

He’s yelled at me too, from outside my closed door, when mother wasn’t home. Name calling. I might’ve mentioned it in the earlier posts, but he called me a failure. Can’t remember much more than that. In a time close to then, in an argument between them, he also went on about how I’m going to end up in my boyfriend’s basement, insisting that I’m just going to leach off of him. There’s nothing I could really say or do to stop him from going on about what he does. If I were to get a job now, he’d only mutter “finally” under his breath, find something else to yell about at mother, and suggest she force me to do.

And on the other side, I feel like I’m looking into it too deep, and it’s all just senseless “caveman speak” that I really shouldn’t be bothered by. Maybe I shouldn’t even consider the outcome of trying to live up to his expectations. After all, what would I get out of it? More complaining?

And before you mention it, I understand there’s way worse situations out there, and I’m very grateful I’m not in those. I can’t even imagine the pain of something physically abusive. I just dislike the situation I’m in right now, because he can get away with it so well, since mother deems it as “innocent”.