It’s always darkest before the dawn
But I think the sun missed a stop
The violets won’t bloom when the moon’s high
And there’s no sunrise on the horizon
The delicate petals withered away
The leaves dried and curled
the violets shrunk to nothing basking in the moonlight
And all that remains of the little flower are some shallow roots and a wilted stem
There aren’t even words for how much I hate you. What is the logic behind going through my shit? Please, explain it to me because I sure as fuck can’t see a logical reason. Uggggghhhh. Hate. Why am I paying rent exactly?
I’m tired. Unbelievably tired. My head always hurts, and my heart always aches. I’m a shell of who I used to be. Now, stuck in this situation, trying to find a place to live, I just don’t know if I can do this. I don’t like the idea of moving into an apartment with mom, but I don’t have a choice anymore. I just need to find one that I can afford when she decides to leave me stranded again.
How someone can be so fucking stupid. Let alone an entire crop of new hires. Seriously? You can’t count to 100? You shouldn’t be a fucking cashier. End of. I’m sick of fucking cleaning up after these kids. Stop it. Just… Stop. Quit before I have to murder you.
So, some little known facts about me to give you some idea about what’s going on:
-I’m 26, and I raised my brothers. I started taking care of them shortly after they were born while I was at a very young age. While most kids were outside playing house with their friends, I was usually living it, changing diapers, feeding, and taking care of two small boys.
-I grew up in an abusive household. My mother’s choices in husbands usually ended painfully for me. Ever wonder where that lovely scar through my left eyebrow came from? Sperm donor pistol whipped me when I was 5. That’s just the tip of the iceberg.
-I Have a lot…i mean, a LOT of shit piled against me mentally. Sometimes I completely lose my shit. Sometimes I black out. A lot of times I’ll do things and have zero recollection of doing them. It’s horrifying.
There is a reason for all that background info, and we will get to that momentarily.
Today, I had a massive panic attack. the worst one I’ve had in a while, since before my mother got sober actually. This was also how my mother found out that this wasn’t the first time I’ve had one.
The trigger? Her husband.
he went off into a rage, and started screaming at my mother. Over the years, I’ve developed an off reaction to people fighting and screaming. I start getting anxious, shaky, panicked. Depending on how bad or long it goes on, I sometimes break down into a sobbing, shaking mess. Guaranteed way to push me into the extreme end of that? Slam a goddamn plate down next to me while you’re screaming…
He didn’t say two words to me. Had he said something to me or yelled at me, I would have been fine. I can shut out people screaming in my face, but hearing people fight makes me fall apart.
After I finally calmed down and spoke to my mother and explained about the attack, I sat down and really started to think about what caused my reaction. And I realized a couple of reasons why. Or, at least I think why.
First, my brothers. When we were kids and my mom and our sperm donor would fight, I’d grab my baby brothers, bring them into my room, and lock the door. No matter how scared I was, I wouldn’t cry because I didn’t want them to get scared. They were my reason for being strong, and never reacting. Without the feeling of having to protect someone, I start to feel scared for myself, and panic.
Second, whenever mom and and one of her husbands fight, it usually translated to us getting slapped around. Sperm donor never thought twice to crack me with whatever was handy when I dared to make the mistake of being around when he was angry with her. Psycho ex stepfather was always pissed off, especially at my mother, and found slamming heads against the wall and closed first hits to the jaw to be his favorite form of punishment. Screaming was always followed by fists, slaps, etc.. So when I hear people fighting, my brain instantly goes into horrified scared mode.
I’m pretty sure those are the reasons I panic when I hear fighting. :/ I’ve rambled enough, going to sleep now. Goodnight tumblverse.