Misty Eyes.

Chapter Five

Dear Diary - March 13th 2018, 

Today was not a good day. By any means. 

Mom and Dad still aren't getting along. 

In fact, things have gotten worse. 

Today when I got home from school, Mom and Dad were arguing. I didn't realize why Dad was home, since he usually doesn't get home until around 5:45. I was confused, because at this point I've gotten to the point where their fights don't really surprise me, but why was he home?

I just went to my bedroom, they didn't even realize I was home. Which, I won't lie, did kind of bother me. It's not fun to know your parents care more about fighting than actually thinking about you. 

I listened in to their fight. It ruined everything. My whole day, ruined within a couple of minutes of being home. 

Mom is cheating on Dad. 

I mean, it's not surprising, but, what? How could she! They're happy together! They have me! Why would she feel the need to go and hang out with another guy? Or go to concerts? And why wouldn't she just leave Dad? 

Why would she stay here, making us think everything is "fine," just to leave on weekends and lie about where she's going?

And what's even worse...

How did I not realize? 

How did I not realize she was lying to me? How did I not realize she was pretending to be happy?  How could I let myself fall for that?

And now that I think about it...

Why did Dad let her be unhappy? Why does he fight with her everyday? Why do they hate me?

Do my parents hate me?

I'm being selfish again. 

Mom put me in therapy a few weeks ago, and my therapist told me that I need to take a minute and breathe when I get upset so I don't make bad decisions. 

I think I'll start that now. Maybe if I take the time to breathe, Mom and Dad will stop fighting. I caused this, I can un-cause it. 

Right?

I hope so. 

I've discovered that the older I get the more I need to hide things from Mom. She sometimes goes through my backpack after school to make sure I didn't sneak snacks to school. She still wants me to lose weight, and I'm still not allowed to wear leggings. 

I know she just wants the best for me, but it honestly just makes me feel worse. I mean, I'm not trying to sound cocky, but I don't think I'm that fat?

She reminds me every morning that if I don't follow her calorie plan that she spent weeks making, then I'll end up looking like the people we see at Walmart. She constantly reminds me of how obese they are. 

I've grown to just accept these comments. I don't like it when Mom calls someone fat, but it's not like I really have a say, she's decided that they are, which means I have to accept it. Mom really doesn't like to be argued with. I used to try to talk back and defend these people, but she got mad at me. She'd repeatedly remind me of how I don't have the right to speak to her that way because she went out of her way to bring me into the world even though it was really painful and she didn't even want kids. She tells me I stole her youth. I didn't know I could steal things that aren't exactly real physical objects. 

Dad and I have begun spending more time together. Mom barely leaves her room, she's usually in there doing her own thing. She said something called "depression," forces her to stay in bed and sleep. Dad said Mom doesn't have depression. I'm not sure what it is, I think I'll look it up on my Chromebook tomorrow at school. 

I used to not have time to spend with Dad. By the time he would get home from work, it was time for him to make dinner, and after dinner, I had homework to do. By the time I was done with that, he was already too exhausted and usually had already fallen asleep, so Mom would make me get ready for bed. 

I hate getting ready in the mornings with Mom. She makes me wear this ugly french braid everyday that makes my forehead look huge, and she picks out all my outfits. I learned the word "insecure" recently, and I think that defines the way she makes me feel when she does all of this. Being skinny is something I look forward to, but I don't like the process. Being hungry all day is painful. I don't like it one bit. 

What I don't like even more? This french braid. It's not flattering. But she says it will prevent me from getting tangles and lice, and I really don't want lice. It went around my school one time, and I got it. It hurt really bad. I don't want to get it again, so I guess I'll just have to deal with this stupid french braid. 

Ugh. I should just be happy she does my hair. Some kids don't have Mom's that do their hair for them before school.