This sucks. This absolutely suck. I’m getting emotionally beaten up to a pulp. I’m feeling tense and uncomfortable in my own home on mildly good days and like a perpetual victim of helplessness and utter despair on bad days. The bedroom and the bathroom offer short havens of respite from what often feels like a never-ending battle field of utter ugliness. The seemingly insignificant misnomer becomes the central stage to heated debates worth the weight of the world in gold. Under-the-belt personal attacks; endless huge dramatic fights over e-v-e-r-y l-i-t-t-l-e t-h-i-n-g; and rudeness, resistance, and grossness to all those pitiful enough to be on the war path. This ride has not been easy and it’s far, far, far from over.
As a highly sensitive person [more about this later], I’m not doing well with this teenage thing. I’m not doing well with fights or crying fits most mornings. I’m not doing well with making every request sixteen times and getting attitude back. I’m drained from the drama in response to “pick up your things spewed all over the living room” or”put your shoes on and walk out the door because we’re late (again) to school”. I’m not doing well with this deep, dark feeling of ‘fuck you! I don’t give a shit!’ because I can’t push and be treated like shit over and over again and keep returning to the ring caring. It. Is. Hard. To. Hug. Thorns. and right now, my rose is all thorns and I’m not doing well with getting scrapped up all the time.