RANTS AND MY THOUGHTS

sshh🤐

before i really get into this, let me explain why ive suddenly wanted to talk about this.

parenting, it can be a difficult thing. i only know that because i have siblings that i babysit often and my mother likes to complain about her issues to me a lot. i saw a post on instagram that had me irritated, basically, the kids of the future won't have real discipline. But my point of view stands in an awkward spot thanks to my lovely past experiences

discipline is needed,

but it is not a gateway into abuse or reason to scare/scar your kid.

they should understand what is wrong or right but they shouldn't be outright petrified of authority. they shouldn't gain immense anxiety and they shouldn't breakdown when calling home for lunch money because they think their mom will get the wrong idea.

that was almost too detailed, but why the fuck do you think it's so specific?

before i get into the dumb shit that scared me as a kid and what it's caused, let me warn you that it could be "triggering"

let's start off with an earlier memory. i might tell you the cute and lighthearted parts of this in person to make you go "aww" or something. well, here's the full thing.

i think i was 4 or 5, i don't remember. i was young and not in kindergarten yet.

i've always been a little destructive and messy. from killing bugs, to digging three foot deep holes, to making a town for worms in the pouring rain. i was one hell of a kid and i was curious.

one day, i had a cup of water and a crayola marker. i figured out that the ink in markers was a liquid and that i was capable of making more of that ink, so i dipped the marker into the water and tore the marker apart to make more ink. i was enjoying myself. i covered my hands in the watered down ink and then i spilled it all over the dining room table and floor. daisy, one of my dogs at the time, joined in and got covered in the ink.

then my mom walked in on me splashing that ink around, getting it all over my clothes and in the vent nearby. she was furious and i knew it. i was unable to move, so she brought me to my feet.

"what happened?!"

her voice was raised, but not to the point of yelling. i was freaking out so i panicked and lied, blaming the dog. my mom got so angry, but she hadn't hurt me yet. she took the signature deep breath that all of the scary villains do and she asked me again.

"what happened, and don't lie to me little girl."

i blamed the dog again, leading to my mother losing it.

She used a brush i think. it was the same brush that she eventually broke while beating one of the dogs for something probably dumb. but regardless, i can still feel the sting when i remember that stupid thing hitting my hind end.

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third grade was an awful year.

i was a bully, i found pleasure in making others' sad and drama was like candy for me. worst of all, i loved falsely accusing others' of things i most likely did or i played the victim to get them in trouble with teachers.

one time my mom screamed at me in the car, we were leaving one of my softball games and one of my victims were on the team. her mom and grandma told my mom just about everything i did to make the girl feel awful. i did deserve to be punished, but of course i didn't stop till almost fifth grade.

but that's not what im here to talk about.

the amount of times i threw fits at home, screaming at my parents about how much i hated everything. it's depressing. i was in third grade and i was already contemplating things like running away and actually killing myself. i threw myself off of the top bunk of a bed headfirst one time.

one night, i recall running to my room and sitting on the floor, i was sobbing and screaming shit like "i hate all of you" and "i hate my life"

my mom and dad proceeded to get offended rather than try to see what's wrong. i believe that's because i refused to do what they said and i was caught lying about my chores. but they gave me the speech about "you would miss us if you left, if you were taken away"

i never really bought into that, having that they often told me that same thing multiple times.

one time during the summer going into fourth grade, i lied about the dishes. (i lied often, it grew into a habit and i still lie to my parents)

my mom saw right through me and she was so fucking angry.

she came after me, i tried getting away but she got to me first. she was yelling, i don't remember what it was. i was crying again. she had me by the hair and she dragged me to my room. i think she beat me with a plastic spoon but honestly, i can't remember that. i can only recall her dragging me by the head.

she threatened me with that spoon often, she doesn't use it against me today but she threatens my siblings.

she yelled at me often and she threatened me too.

-

my grades in sixth grade were pretty bad. i had a B in core, C in social studies, F in math, and i had complaints about chatty-ness.

let's just say, i now have the mentality that an A- isn't enough.

i have to have perfect grades and a B is panic-worthy.

-

my mom still isn't truly that supportive and she isn't sensitive about my anxiety. she thinks it's an excuse not to pay for something by myself or take a harder class. im not afraid of challenges, but i'm petrified about how people view me and my grades. i don't care about what colleges want from me, i just want to be the top of the class so i don't get yelled at for getting an F or something.

right now, im on the verge of crying because the other day i stressed over pre-ap english and how im terrified but my mother didn't boost my confidence.

she just

got irritated.

and the worst part is, im scared to ask for help.

i can't talk about anything with my mom. not about sexuality or my views. she doesn't really listen or empathize.

i feel guilty about saying this shit because one time i tried talking about how she hurts me to her and she cried. i was then forced to take it all back when i didn't feel bad about it, i was just angry because it turned into that. i don't even know what to feel now.

-

ever since i was really young, i wished for some sort of escape.

ive always hoped for a way to flee into another world

or a way to transfer minds or become possessed so i wouldn't have to deal with the inexplicable ache in my chest i get all the time.

im scared of school. i feel like throwing up nearly every morning. i often show up with a nasty attitude and lack of kindness in my voice.

the worst thing is though, is how i want to freak out and ruin someone's day or hurt someone but i also want to prevent anything like that. i have to be alone when im home because i hate the chaos. the physical fights my brothers get into, the yelling, and the lack of enjoyment.

i used to be extroverted and fun, i once let people in and i allowed myself to make many friends.

but now i hate meeting people and im scared ill fuck up. i could manipulate someone or cut them off. i could hurt someone. they could hurt me too. i can't cooperate properly and i hate teamwork with a passion. im so worried about the next school year, i don't want new classes or to deal with the people i disliked last year.

im afraid of what's to come.

fuck, i can't think of what else to say and i need sleep anyways.

goodnight, or good morning since it's 2:30AM.