jay_moose | (no subject)

I understand that things are emotional at home, especially with mom in NY so she can be with Grandma.

I understand that dad's not the best with dealing with his emotions 'appropriately'. Grandma is his mother, after all.

I appreciate that mom acknowledged my 'strength' and 'support', even if it was through a note she left for me when i woke up. She wrote that she knows how hard this is for me, and she's proud of me.

But Dad, i'm still a member of this family. She's my grandmother, someone i've been very close to since i was born. I understand you're upset, and you're stressed out, and i'm trying so hard not to make things difficult for you, because i know how you are.

It doesn't, however, give you the right to treat me like you are today. It doesn't give you the right to scream at me, curse me out, and insult me over clothes. Clothes! It doesn't give you the right to try and make me feel like shit.

You were taking a skirt of mine to the cleaners, and left it by the front door. Then you called the house, when you were still in the driveway, to yell at me for forgetting to give it to you.

Mom told me that he'd be difficult, and that's why she was concerned about leaving so spur of the moment. She's my grandmother, my family. I'm coping, okay? And the dogs are still sick. Probably picking up on stress and emotion in the household. And i just want to scream. But i won't. Because i'm the fucking strong one

But i am not a personalized verbal/emotional punching bag. Except, apparently, i am.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.