I'm lucky

TW : mention of suicidal thoughts

Woke up at 11 a.m.

Missed virtual class, thankfully my friend recorded the class. I’m lucky.

Talked about liver failure with my mom because one of her friends lost a friend who died from liver failure. She suddenly yells at me, blaming me for something that happened one year ago when we went to visit this girl I’ve been supporting since childhood because her parents are alcoholic. Mom blamed me for leaving her alone with them for a few hours. They didn’t hurt her, but she didn’t like being around their drinking and smoking. She said I was childish for leaving her alone, even though the girl begged me to spend time with her in her room upstairs, showing me drawings and talking about video games like we used to in the past, she’s like a little sister to me and it hurts to see her in such a sad family situation. I had already apologized, but she keeps blaming me even a year later and compares me to others my age who would never do this to their mother. I feel horrible.

She suddenly questions me about my virtual class. I forgot I told her I had one. I can’t lie I tell her I missed it. The yelling turns into screaming. She gets hysterical, throws something in the apartment. It gets too much I can’t follow everything she blames me for. She says I’m a failure, I can’t do a single thing right, I don’t even help her around the house, and I just spend my time playing video games and faking studying. She calls me a bitch. She says I’ll never become a good teacher for the kids because I’m a failure. I’m lucky to have her in my life or else it’ll be worse. I don’t do anything around the house I only have to care for myself and my studies and I can’t even do it right. It takes me hours to study I’m stupid, I’m a worthless daughter. It’s my fault she’s stuck in this shitty apartment, she sacrificed her life for me and I’ve become nothing great. She mocks me for wanting to have a place on my own, says I can’t even do a single thing right. She says the only reason she’s still here is because she’s afraid to abandon me, because I’ll waste away. My friends all succeed and I’m nothing, and soon they’ll see I’m exactly as she says. I can’t follow everything she screams at me. I see her with her wide eyes, imitating me as some sort of retarded child, but I can’t register the words anymore. I just keep thinking about how I could lift the weight of my existence from her life. I think about the meds in the bathroom cupboard, how many I could mix up together in a drink, how easy it would be. But I don’t want to die, yet it feels like the only solution to bring her peace, to make her life better. I tried to help, tried to do things around the house, but I’m a failure, I can’t do a single thing right. I play games to forget, and I admire how much work it takes to create a whole virtual little world, yet how easy it is to create a virtual world you own compared to real life. It’s my dream to own my own little place, where I can clean, I can cook, and I can take care of myself as I want, without being called lazy, slutty, or childish.

It’s around lunch time when her screaming quiets down slightly and I decide to clean my face in the bathroom and put on some cream to have a sensation of fake skincare routine. My face is just so full of acne scars and crusts because I can’t stop scratching my acne when stressed. Then I put on some clothes and decide to start studying but my head is too full so I start to write this on my notes instead, acting like I study to have some peace. Maybe she’s right; I’m faking it in the end. But she suddenly screams again. I put on clean clothes. I forgot to take my shower. I immediately remove my clothes, my hands are trembling and she notices. She gets even more mad. I take a shower. I don’t feel any better. It sucks, but at least I smell good. I put on clothes again, get back on my computer, and keep writing this.

She talks to me through my “study session” about the neighbor, her tone is normal.

Around 2 p.m. she gets hurt against a door so she hits it and angrily yells about how she’s tired of living here. I feel my cat lightly nipping at my ankle he’s hiding under my desk chair. He gets up on my desk, demands kisses and head pats, and I oblige.

She hears me sniffling, orders me to use a tissue, and then resumes complaining how I’m never able to do anything on my own if she doesn’t order me around.

She comes to my laptop and demands I look for her mails. I can’t I have to go use a tissue for my nose. So she uses my laptop while I do that, then I have to wait until she’s done to go back “studying.” She stops when my laptop warns about needing to recharge. I get my cable, try to plug it in, but she yells at me because I didn’t position the cable the way she told me several times. She does it, complains about my failure, and leaves. She mumbles about having to do everything on her own and goes to use her own laptop to look at her mails.

I come back to write it here. It’s 2:50 p.m.

At 3:11 p.m. she demands me if I remember the dimensions of the car’s truck. I don’t. She sighs and groans about how she’ll have to measure it again. I failed her again.

I’m already tired I want to go back to sleep. But I’m lucky I have her. She’s my only family. I never missed a meal I have a roof over my head and I even got nice things for gaming. My friend offered me a gaming setup. I have great friends. I make jokes and I laugh often.

I try to be a good friend because I can’t be a good daughter. She doesn’t hit me. I go to university and I can make my friends laugh. I’m lucky.

I’m so very lucky.