Thirteen

I don't have time for this bullshit.

I don't have time for this bullshit.

I don't have time for this bullshit.

We've been in this waiting room for hours and it's becoming painful.

I don't care to be here, I'm fine. I just want to go home and sleep.

I fucking hate hospitals. I don't see the point in staying here any longer, anyways. Just to waste the rest of the night. And for what? Some doctor or nurse can ask me a bit about how I feel, take my blood pressure...talk to me like I'm an idiot, put me in a gown and stick me in another room just so I can sit alone and wait longer?

I've been through this process, my mother is just doing this as a scare tactic to prove her point. Threatening to keep me here for the night, to ask them to send me away.

She thinks that every time I cut myself is to die, but it's not.

Sometimes...I just need a release. A break from the emotional pain...even if it shuts my brain up for less than a minute, it's enough. Anything to distract me from my thoughts.

My mother doesn't understand that.

I guess you'd have to be in this position to fully understand it.

Either way, it's beyond me why we're even here. All my mother ever has to say about this stuff is that she doesn't have time for it...that she has enough on her plate.

That's all that I can think of right now. How my pain and suffering has become such an inconvenience to her.

I don't know how many times I've said I'm not happy, just to be told that I have no reason to be unhappy...that I'm ungrateful.

Look at our life. Look at how shit has gone- look at how it's still going! The constant problems, constant fighting, moving from house to house.

Everything we have is temporary.

Every moment of happiness has been temporary.

It's like my mother forgets about that. It's like she doesn't think about what that's done to me.

What does she expect from me? After all that has happened in life, she really thinks that my sister and I can go on, unscarred.

It's not like anything has even stopped. It's always back and forth, jumping from house to house, constant instability. But she doesn't have time for the breakage that might cause in a young child's mind.

I've been this way for a while. I'm glad to see that my sister still seems normal and doesn't do the bullshit that I do...I hope she never does. I hope she never feels the need to release herself from the pain in the ways that I do. But with how we're currently going in life...that seems to be where it's headed. It's heartbreaking. I feel like it's up to me to stop it. But what can I do? I barely got ahold of myself. I'll figure it out.

I ask my mother if we have to stay here. I hope my face is showing as much annoyance and disappointment towards her as her face is showing me right now. It looks like she's just about as over this shit as I am.

She checks her phone and I peek over to look at the time. It's almost fucking seven. We've been here since twelve, I would like to go the fuck home now.

I roll my eyes and make sure my mom sees it.

At least she and her friend have something to do. They get to sit on their phones and distract themselves. My phone, of course, was taken away.

I never really understood that logic, either.

Attempt suicide, take the phone away.

Self-harm, take the phone away.

Mention feeling depressed, take the phone away. As if I have anything on my phone that's making me feel this way. It's not like I'm allowed social media. I have it, but I never get to use it.

My mom turns to her friend, 'Angie', and asks her if it would be better for us to just leave now. I sit and pray to whatever god there might be that 'Angie' says yes...and when she does, I shoot up out of my chair and practically sprint to the exit. I can't get out of here faster.

I've been silent on this drive back. I'm not even sure what to say and no one is talking to me.

They're talking about me...but it's as if I'm not even in the vehicle. I'm wrapped up in my own world, anyways. I can hardly hear the conversation between 'Angie' and my mom.

I don't know why I feel like this. Especially when I'm told that I have no reason to be feeling this way. I've just been feeling like shit about myself, about my life...and about life in general. I've had less motivation to live in a world like this, to live a life like mine. And it just gets worse every day. I have such a heavy feeling of sadness and shame that I feel the need to cut myself for a release, for a punishment, or just to feel something. It depends on the mood. Depends on the day.

I haven't been the best person. I've been a bad sister, a shit daughter...but I'm struggling with myself...and no one notices it. I feel like the weight of my world is on my shoulders.

I'm the oldest. I'm the example. The rock of the family, the second mom. I feel like I'm taking care of everyone but who takes care of me? No one notices me unless it's to put responsibility on my back or to pick me apart and point out every problem I have...then shake me for it because my siblings and cousins are watching. There's hardly room for me to make mistakes.

"Maybe she can stay with you guys for a bit."

My train of thought comes to a complete halt.

"What?" I purposely invade their conversation. My mom explains that 'Angie' offered to let me stay with her at her house for a bit. Mom is considering it.

I guess my mom and I haven't been getting along...but I can't help but feel like I'm just being handed off to a different family. Am I that much of a burden? I feel kind of rejected and pushed away.

—

I lay in a field by the dawe.

I have school but...I'm late, anyways.

I got my phone back, mom doesn't know. She hasn't noticed, yet.

I have my earphones in...I'm listening to "Circles" by Hollywood Undead while I stare at the sky and escape my reality.

They're my favourite band right now. My dad listens to them, that's how I discovered their music.

Savannah and I used to scream their songs during lunchtime. That was before I switched schools. She was the only other person in my old friend group that liked Hollywood Undead as much as I did.

I miss her. We understood each other. She was my best friend in grade six and the beginning of grade seven.

I switched schools in April of this year. I left my old school in March, came to this school by the end of April...finished the school year...now it's September, new school year.

My mom made me move schools after I started cutting. That and she didn't want me around my old friends.

You know how friends say "If you die, I die"...or something along those lines? Well, that's what my old friend group would say to each other. Obviously, I was apart of that.

One morning I missed the bus to go to school and I wasn't answering my phone because it was on top of the fridge for the night. I slept through my alarms.

By the time I got onto my phone, every friend I had was blowing up my phone, begging me to answer.

They thought I killed myself. They went to the office and showed our messages. The office called my mom and explained the situation...they told her I was "most vocal" about suicide and self harm. I don't even know what the fuck they meant by that.

To me, I love my friends and I would be devastated if they die but I wasn't serious about ending my life strictly because they did. But, the school, the parents, the doctors at the hospital and maybe even my friends took it seriously. They called it a 'suicide pact'.

That's the first time my mother took me to the hospital.

At that time, she seemed sad and confused. These days, she just seems annoyed and over it.

I used to go here, my current school. I was here from grade three to grade five, switched schools for grade six and the beginning of grade seven, then cane back here. Now I'm starting grade eight.

I feel like I don't fit in much at this school. I've changed so much since grade five. Grade seven was a confusing blur of bullshit that I hardly remember. I think I spent most of the last few months of school just trying to survive and catch up.

Nobody listens to Hollywood Undead...or Eminem...or D12. I asked a few of my classmates if they knew Eminem and they responded with "The candy?"

I just feel out of place. Everyone around here seems so preppy and perfect...and that's just not me at all anymore.

I don't give a fuck about sports. I care about music...but all of the "friends" that I have here like girly music, girly shit. They're boy crazy. They're on volleyball or basketball teams. They giggle over the boys playing football at lunch. That's just not me.

No one here really talks about real shit, either. They talk about sleepovers, sports, boys...their minds seem to be filled with sunshine and rainbows while mine is clouded with darkness and real life struggles.

They worry about how their hair and makeup looks while I worry about if my scars are showing or not. They worry about the fact that their parents didn't buy them this sweater they really wanted, while I worry about the fact that my parents are constantly shit talking each other. Or the fact that my stepdad had kicked our entire family out on the streets and the fact that we had to move in with my grandma.

I talk to a lot of people in different groups but...I don't really like I fit in or relate to anyone here. Not the way I did at my old school.

I'm killing myself trying to fit in and act like I give a fuck about any of this surface level bullshit. It feels fake. I know that some of these people have to be struggling, I just hate that everyone acts like it's all good and perfect. It makes me feel alone. It makes me feel like the odd man out.

I can't wrap my head around how so many people can act like everything is great if it's not.

September 16th, 2016

I just want to LIVE LIFE.

There's been talk of me going off with another family in a different house anyways, so why would my mother care if I'm gone?

We fought this morning. She found the phone and the fight escalated to arguing about her controlling me and shipping me off...she ended up grabbing me by the sweater and pushed me up against the wall, while screaming, of course. It was hard and knocked the wind out of me.

It's always the same shit with her. I'm tired of this fighting shit with her and it's always somehow my fault. I'm finally putting my foot down about the way she talks to me and the way she treats me and it always results in mornings, days, or nights like what we had this morning.

It's like she doesn't hear what I'm saying. Either that, or she doesn't like hearing it. She doesn't like hearing about my problems. Especially if it's something that involves her.

This shit happens right before I go to school, too. As if I don't deal with enough there. On top of that...I was late, crying and pissed off. I'm embarrassed by the way my life is...even if nobody around me really knows what's going on...it feels like they do.

This is a never-ending cycle. Maybe I should live somewhere else.

But, even if it is, 'Angie's' house isn't an option right now. Someone actually wants to hang out with me...and I want to finally be able to say yes. I can count on one hand the number of times I've been out with a friend from school...one that isn't the child of one of my mother's friends.

I've known this girl for a few years now through mutual friends. I'm surprised she asked to hangout.

She's more like me. Finally, someone who understands and can relate to my dysfunctional life.

We spent the evening walking around the north end of our city, talking about our childhood, our lives. We've opened up to each other very quickly about some deep, personal stories...our lives have been pretty similar. I feel like we're bonding over that.

She also understands that there aren't very many people at our school that seem to share these similarities...either that, or they just don't talk about it.

We made our way down to her dad's house, but her older brother was the only one at the house, though. So, I didn't get to meet her dad.

We all left the house and eventually ended up downtown.

I've had fun walking around...ranting, and having a little bit of freedom.

But, before I know it, my mother is picking me up. She's pissed. She's acting like I'm out doing drugs or whatever, but I wasn't. I was just walking around. Trying to have a life outside of her and her circle of friends. Trying to have a bit of separation from her, outside of her control and constant attempt to supervise my every move. She acts like that's the end of the world.

But, I guess this is the last straw for her.

Late September 2016

I leave with my new best friend again after school.

This time, we end up at Superstore.

I'm standing in the hair dye section, eager to change my hair colour because I'm not allowed to do that, either. Suddenly, someone is yanking my arm and dragging me out of the aisle. I look up and see that it's 'Angie', pulling me out of the store towards her car. I knew my mom would've been looking for me by now.

'Angie' doesn't take me back to my mom's house, we just go straight to her house. She explained that we would grab some of my belongings tomorrow. But for tonight...we're just gonna go back to her house, get some space and cool off.

I guess living with her can't be all that bad.

It'll be like a sleepover. A long one.