#oh what’s that? it took me nearly 30 minutes to make this stupid fucking vent post? yeah that sounds about right. sigh

[seventh-district]

.

[damn-it-damian]

Why don't you hit me instead of screaming at each other?

and a little something I call "the sponge effect"

[long post ahead]

My parents have never beaten me up. Like yeah, my father spanked me like twice when I was like five years old - first bc I forgot to do my housework and second bc I was rude to my mum. And hell, I made so damn sure to never do that again. But that was all. Aside from that, none of them ever hit me. Not even a slap across the face. But oh, did they scream! The worst of all? Most of the time, they're not even screaming at me! Most of the time, they are just screaming at each other bc of some absolutely stupid thing. Or, one of them is screaming bc of the other one, but the other one is not even there! Like, my mother was screaming and went hysterical for nearly 30 minutes the other morning because my father have thrown away her water bottle when he was cleaning the kitchen the day before and now, she have to go and buy another. And of course it works the other way, too. Father screaming bc of something my mother did. Best of all? They start screaming at each other when the whole family (him, her, me and my 16-year-old sister) is having dinner bc of something that happened yesterday morning but they haven't seen each other until now. And me and sis- we are just sitting there bc we are not allowed to leave until we finish our meals and we are not allowed to take it to our rooms or to throw it away. And I'm just silently clenching my fists under the table so they won't see and slowly but surely I'm about to cry.

And suddenly, they're all like, why the hell are you crying? Stop it. Nobody is hurting you!

But you do.

You are hurting me so much, you just don't realize it. This screaming of yours, it's hurting me so much! I know that probably none of you is doing this to me intentionally, that none of you is hurting me knowingly and that you're just venting out your anger, but if you just want to take your anger out on someone and make yourself feel better - here I am. Just hit me, but please! Stop screaming. I know that you're not hitting me bc you don't want to hurt me - I am your child after all - but you just don't realize that you're hurting me so much more when you do this. Why don't you just slap me across the face instead of all this screaming? It would be just so much better! It would hurt, yes, but it would be just so much better that all of this.

Like, I can deal with physical pain. It's so much better that the psychical and mental pain. Yes, all those bruises hurts like hell but it all fades away eventually. Psychical pain does not. It may get weaker, yes, but it's still there. And it still hurts. All those insults and that screaming - it's all still there.

That's mostly why I'm skipping dinners now bc there's always a possibility that something like this will happen.

So, the actual story is: today I've woken up to my mother screaming. Like, a lot more than usual. She went completely hysteric. I mean, she was in the kitchen which is on the ground floor, I was in my freaking attic room on the freaking third floor and it still managed to wake me up from my deep-ass sleep. At first, I thought that I can manage to just ignore it. Clasp my hands on my ears, burry my head under the pillow and just ignore it. It's the best thing you can do, when she's like this. I mean, every time I hear people scream my body just stops working. It's in some kind of paralysis when I have a need to curl on myself, close my eyes and clasp my ears until it ends. But man, just how much I've been wrong. There was like no way I could survive with ignoring it like that because it just didn't end. I had no idea what's going on or why she's so mad, but I thought that maybe if I go downstairs and ask her what's happening them maybe I could help somehow and end all of this. (like, I know that it actually doesn't work bc I've tried so many times and it never helps, but I just needed it to stop!)

So, I got up from the bed, I went downstairs and casually, in the soft voice and without any screaming or shouting I asked her what's wrong. And man, I've never been screamed at as much as this in my whole life. I seriously though I'll start crying. I mean, not because I was screamed at, but the feeling of that moment was just so wrong! And I still couldn't make out what's wrong, I had no idea what's happening. It all just felt so wrong.

Like, let's say that I'm quite empathetic and a way more 'softer' and more 'sensitive' than other boys (at least more than all the boys I've met till now) and I just can 'feel' the emotions of other people (gosh, that sounds weird). I mean, it affects me like, a lot. Casually, I'm referring to it as 'the sponge effect'.

That's something I made up myself so please don't judge me but people seem to understand it more if I have some name with which I can call it. And basically, it works like a big sponge. I'm here and like a sponge is absorbing water, I'm absorbing emotions of other people. Like, when I'm around someone who is sad or crying - even if it's a complete stranger, someone I've never seen before in my life - I just feel like crying and if it's really intensive I'll most likely start crying, too. It works like this with all kinds of emotions but sadly, it's a lot stronger with the negative ones. At least in my case.

So these emotional outburst are... let's say it's really difficult for me.

And like a big sponge, I still continue to absorb all emotions from people around me and people I meet. And I just keep them inside unit there's no room and I'm completely overwhelmed. And then, when the sponge is full you have to squeeze it to wring it out so it can absorb new water again. The only problem is that I can't let those emotions go. I mean, of course I can let my emotions go, but that applies only on the 'good ones'. But I just can't take my anger and negative emotions out on others. I mean, that's what people do - someone is mean at them and 'gives' them that emotion and they 'pass' it to the next person by being mean to him. Like yeah, I'm angry as hell, I wanna scream, I wanna shout, I wanna swear, I wanna punch something till it breaks but I just can't. For some reason. Or I just really don't want to, I don't know. I mean, it's probably a good thing bc I'm not 'passing' those negative emotions on other people but I can't keep them in either bc honestly, it's killing me. Like, all that rage and anger and hatred is still in there and it's pilling up. And I still keep it in bc I just can't let it out to hurt other people, unit it becomes something I can deal with: sorrow. Just keep it in long enough till all that hate and anger fades to sadness and sorrow. Now, that's something you can work with, isn't it? Sure, you can! (please don't.) But yeah, basically I can deal with sadness a little bit better than with anger and I can actually let it out. So yeah, I'm crying myself to sleep and I'm full of self-hate. But that's okay, right? You can cry in secret so nobody can see you and your negative emotions won't affect others. (It feels so bad, please don't do this qwq). But it works. And then I just cry it out. All of it, all of those emotions. Till I'm an empty dry sponge again. And it all feels so cold and wrong. And I feel empty and alone and I'm just so touch starved. I just so miss that most basic kind affection like patting on the back when I cry or hugging when I feel so empty after all of that.

But hey, here I am - ready to suck up some new negative emotions.

You still here for the actual story? Great! (I literally love you if you made it to this point! qwq)

So, after I went downstairs and gently asked my mother what's wrong, she screamed her head out on me. But I wasn't able to make out what's actually going on. And I just felt so bad because I actually care but she didn't even give me a chance to help. But okay she doesn't want to speak to me? That's cool, I won't push.

I just... need to... get out of here.

So I just ran out of our house without thinking. Just grabbed my jacket, pulled on some shoes a ran out like that. Like, the whole freaking street of people saw my undies bc aside from the jacket I was wearing only my sleeping t-shirt. But I absolutely didn't care at that moment. I just wanted to get away from all that screaming.

I mean, I'm not a rebellious type of child but today I've seriously considered running away. Not to upset my parents or to make them miss me, no, I just want to get away from all of that. I didn't run away tho. I just sat outside on the street and when I saw them leaving for groceries I quickly ran back, changed into some normal clothes, took something to eat for later and then I ran to my uncle's house where I "hid" in the cellar - all before they returned from the grocery shop so they couldn't see me.

Well theoretically, I'm still in our house, bc our and uncle's house share the same wall, but here I feel a way more safer rn. I mean, the cellar is basically underground, main unit of central heating is based here so it's warm in here (not like on the street rn) and it's relatively quiet in here. Like yeah, I still can hear some of my parents' screaming (bc of that one shared wall) but it's a way less than when I'm in my room and I can put my headphones on in here which I can't do at home bc my parents assume that I'm purposely ignoring them when instead I'm just trying to block out all that shouting. Plus, nobody knows I'm here! (yeah, my uncle knows but he won't tell)

.

What I was about to say is, that today I finally told myself that I've had enough and that after I finish school (I have finals in less than one month from now) I'll visit a psychologist bc I really need to talk about this. Mostly bc I wasn't really allowed to visit her until now, because only mentally ill people visit psychologist and you aren't ill, now are you? But you know what? Fuck you all!

Also, I probably can't move out yet, even if I wanted to (and the hell I want!) bc I don't have enough money but I told myself that I'll make damn sure to live away from home when I start college. And when I'm at it I also need to come out from the closet and find myself someone who'll help me out of my touch starved misery.

[lassitude]

Been a minute...

I have to vent, and there doesn't seem to be an adequate space for doing it at this moment. Twitter is a fucking flaming wreck, and I don't like to tell my family or friends about work shit, but that's what this is about. Work Shit.

Normally I feel pretty able to shrug off the drama, to absorb the bullshit, but today was really something else. In case no one else has noticed, it's two days before Thanksgiving. When you work in a restaurant, that's like saying it's two days before The Purge. Rather, The Purge is happening currently, and gird your fucking loins, because we're in it and the only way out is fucking through. You've just got to grin and bear it. There is no other way.

So I was doing it. Grinning, bearing it, even when this entitled asshole didn't like how long it took me to take his order despite having a full ass section with twenty other people besides himself and his date. Newsflash, sir: IT'S BUSY. YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONE HERE. Your app hasn't hit the table yet, so I can't even send the order you're so desperate to give me. Your incredibly special selection of the fucking grilled chicken, you absolute motherfucking redneck ass savage. It's your date's birthday! Spend some money, cheapskate! And he had the audacity to mumble some harried "Jesus Christ" like he'd been waiting twenty seven years for service. He had a drink and bread. His app had yet to hit the table. No need for that bullshit, sir. But I did it. Grin. Bear it. Even through the lousy $10 on $82 and his barely legible scrawl on the receipt of "Very Poor Service." Well, you had a very poor attitude, and I can't help it if everyone in this stupid fucking city decided to eat at the same time tonight. Your food was correct. You drinks were correct. Everything was timed properly. Anything other than that was completely out of my control, you fucking imbecile.

I had several lovely tables who told me how wonderful and delightful I was, that they noticed how hard I was working, how I was spinning like a top trying to get everyone what they needed. I just asked my floor manager for ONE greet. I'd just been quadruple sat--four different four tops. It's very doable IF three of them weren't at the first-come, first-served tables where you have to bring menus, plates, and silverware on top of everything else. So I asked the floor manager to greet my fourth table in five minutes: drinks, bread, take an order.

She couldn't do it. She slurred her words when she told me their drinks, so I asked her if she was drunk, and that seemed to set her off for some reason. Probably because she was. I could smell it on her breath. If it wasn't alcohol, it was something else for sure. She rings the drinks in wrong as she tells me what the actual drinks are. Twenty minutes later I go to the table and ask them if they're ready for food.

"We're just waiting on our appetizer."

"Oh, let me make sure she rang it in." I look. There's nothing in there other than the martinis. "Let me see if it's in the kitchen." I hurriedly ring it in and tell the kitchen I need it on the fly--that our motherfucking ONLY MANAGER ON THE FLOOR fucked up taking ONE order. Worse yet, she's nowhere to be found. All night long, nowhere to be found. I'm getting my ass fucking handed to me, and she's nowhere to be found. It's ridiculous. I've said it many times tonight: this isn't a fucking restaurant, it's a fucking sideshow. It's a fucking circus.

Cue the fucking drama. She starts ranting about how I won't have to deal with her much longer, so I snap back, "Please be professional. We are at work. Be professional." And that sends her into the "I FUCKING QUIT" spiral. She takes off the restaurant keys, starts laying them out on one of the dining room tables. Even one of my tables noticed she was hardly working--thanks for the $30 on $100, guys--and spent nearly an hour straight just standing in one spot, looking like a fucking moron while I ran around like a chicken with its head off.

Now, I understand why my fellow employees are so infatuated with this particular floor manager. She has a fun personality, she understands what it means to be a server since she was one for many years before making the absurd decision to take a pay cut and become a manager. She cuts us breaks when we get fucked by cash tables. She also enabled another server, and one of my friends, to be drunk at work on multiple occasions. He finally got fired two weeks ago, but not by her. Because--and this is just my working theory--they go out into the parking lot and shoot mini bottles after volume. It makes her a fucking nightmare for me when I have to do office duties with her as the closing manager. I mean a literal fucking nightmare of miscounted money--counted as she speaks aloud every single dollar in like a strangely accented voice. She was doing the same thing tonight, talking loudly and with bravado, as if I haven't seen the same act every single fucking time she's drunk or high while I'm supposed to be handling money and sensitive data.

So she's on her bullshit tonight, and what does she do as she storms outside and tries to leave in her car? She blames me. Says I've already called the GM and ratted her out, that she'd pass a breathalyzer, etc etc. Why was she ranting like that if she wasn't drunk? Why was she talking SHIT about me to other servers? Why did another server, who I considered previously my friend, bark at me like I was a child for asking why our closing manager couldn't complete her closing duties? "BECAUSE SHE'S ON THE PHONE WITH HER BOSS!"

I know, dear. I'm the one that fucking texted him. This isn't some fucking high school drama club; this is a BUSINESS. We are here conducting BUSINESS. She is not my fucking friend; she's supposed to be my fucking BOSS. And your boss, too, honey. If you see her as a friend first, then you fucked up, not me. This is why there isn't supposed to be any fucking fraternization between managers and employees, to avoid this exact fucking situation. If I was drunk at work, I would expect to be fired. If I fuck up badly at work, I expect to be written up. I don't throw temper tantrums and threaten to quit and expect anyone to give a single flying fuck about my decision. I am a battery powering a food-slinging machine, and so the fuck is she. So the fuck are all of us, so WHYYYYYY are they treating this like something more than it is? Because they'd rather have her than our two other idiot managers? One doesn't seem to give a fuck, and the other has piss poor menu knowledge and an even shittier attitude.

It's the blind leading the blind. It's like when the kids fuck around when a substitute teacher is on, except the substitute is there ALL THE TIME now. And it's just fuck around forever. Make money, fuck around. It's s fucking toxic, and I want to quit, but I broke $300 tonight. In five hours. I have a mortgage. I have health insurance. I can't just upend my job because I had a bad, dramatic day. But apparently she can. It's fucking ridiculous.

I should be the fucking boss. But I say this knowing they could never pay me enough. Maybe for 80k a year starting, with built-in raises each year. But no one would work for me. I'd fire everyone, or everyone would hate me.

But maybe I only think that way since it's been years since I've had a true hardass for a boss. Someone who holds standards and holds people accountable. We need rules. Rules stop us from devolving into fucking savages who smoke, drink, and fuck at work. We don't have any rules anymore, or at least we don't after volume.

I don't even know what I hope to accomplish with this rant. It's not like I didn't already tell my husband all of this shit on our commute home. I just CAN'T do this shit again tomorrow, though it's looking like that's the only option moving forward. All I know for sure is that she doesn't work tomorrow, so at least I don't have to interact with her. Though I will have to interact with her butt-sucking fan club, including the girl who barked at me for asking why our manager couldn't do her fucking job.

JESUS FUCK, what a fucking mess. This place used to be a point of pride. Now it's a fucking laughing stock. I honestly hope they just fucking accept her resignation. And she can suck my fucking dick for trying to blame me for her shortcomings. IT'S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT that you can't come to work sober. It's not my fucking fault that you hate your fucking job. It's not my fucking fault that I ALONE HOLD YOUR ASS ACCOUNTABLE. I follow the fucking rules for a reason. This is how I make money to finance my fucking life. This isn't some playground for me to showcase my vices.

Ugh, I'm so fucking MAD.

[emulateharry]

Flicker

This is my first Niall. Hope you like it. Love to my wonderful friends who always encourage me @niallandharrymakemestrong and @melissas173 .

“Damn it!”  The words exploded from his mouth as he banged his fist on the steering wheel.  The early evening sun, slipping slowly from the sky, was directly in his eyes as he sat in traffic.  He hadn’t moved more than 100 yards in almost an hour.  The woman in the car to his right was reading a book while the guy in the car behind him was jamming to some deep bass funk which was causing his head to pound.  He just wanted to get home, crack open a beer and turn on the Golf Channel but he was pretty sure that his girlfriend would have something to say about that.

CeeCee was always harping on him to watch some silly movie with her or play some stupid board game or even do a jigsaw puzzle…like they were 85 years old or something.  She just couldn’t understand that when he got home all he wanted to do was zone out for a little bit, to let the stress of the day dissipate before having a conversation or doing chores or trying to fake some romance.  They’d been arguing more and more lately.  The one last night had ended when he loudly suggested, well technically he shouted, that she should have dated Harry if she wanted candles and romcoms and bubble baths.  She had looked at him with filling eyes and replied quietly “Maybe I should have” before locking herself in the bedroom.  He had slept on the couch.

He had tried texting her today but had received curt responses, her last text was from two hours ago.

I‘m on my way home.  We need to talk.

He was sure she was going to be angry that he was so late but this traffic jam was unbelievable.  He was about to bang the steering wheel again when the car in front of him started to advance slowly.  As the line of cars inched forward he could see flashing lights up ahead.  Fifteen more minutes of crawling along and the cause of the delay came into view.  An old pick-up truck had tangled with what looked to have been a sedan.  There were ambulances, fire trucks and police cars along with a few plain official looking vehicles bracketing the wreckage and blocking the road.  First responders were everywhere and a uniformed officer was directing the cars to merge and move into the emergency lane.   He looked over to the accident and saw two men loading a covered stretcher into a van.  Oh.  That’s what took so long, there was a fatality.  Closer to the center of the chaos he saw an officer bend down and pick up the broken grille from the crushed black car and place it in a bag.  Feeling a bit guilty for his earlier impatience over what was clearly a tragedy for someone, he calmly maneuvered around the scene and onto the road just beyond.

He arrived home about 30 minutes later just as the sun was about to set.  The sky was a brilliant deep pink and the few clouds were a deep purple against it.  He admired it quietly before unlocking the door and going inside.  The alarm was off so he called out “Babe, I’m home.”   There was no answer.  “CeeCee?  I’m home!” he said in a louder voice.  Again no answer.  As he walked towards the bedroom the house was quiet, he strained to hear if the water was running in the shower.  No.  His room was empty, the pile of his dirty laundry on the floor just as he had left it that morning when he realized that he had overslept.  He turned around and headed to the kitchen for that beer, pulling out his phone to call her on the way.  The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.  He texted her as he popped the top of the bottle of Stella and wandered into the lounge.  Plopping on the sofa, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.  There was an old interview with Jack Nicklaus on and he began to watch.

He had finished his beer and got up to go get another when it occurred to him that she hadn’t answered his text.  He punched in her number but voicemail picked up immediately once again.  He sent a text and sat back on the sofa, a hint of unease prickling the back of his neck.  

Something kept flitting through his mind trying to get his attention but he couldn’t quite grasp it.  Golf Central was just coming on and the sportscasters were giving updates on the CJ Cup and the Andalucia Valderrama Masters.  Niall was barely paying attention, his mind trying to connect with whatever it was that his subconscious wanted to show him.  An advert for a luxury car interrupted the golf news and suddenly it clicked.  The grille the officer picked up.  It was a Mercedes.  The wrecked car he had passed on his way home was a black Mercedes.  CeeCee drove a black Mercedes.

His heart pounding, he grabbed his phone and hit redial.

“Hi! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m busy.  You heard me; I’m busy.  Leave a message.  Buh-bye!”

“Babe call me as soon as you get this message please!  Right away. Please.”

His voice sounded a bit desperate but he didn’t care.  He hit end and checked for a text.  Nothing.  Maybe she had come home and tired of waiting for him.  Maybe she had gone out to have dinner with a friend.  Or her Mom.  Or by herself.  He picked up the remote and opened up the security camera app.  Scanning quickly in reverse he realized that she hadn’t been home since the morning.  He paused the video when she appeared on the screen.  The time stamp was 06:15.  Pressing play he watched the output from the cameras.  He was able to follow her as she walked down the stairs and into the lounge.   She was dressed in her favorite suit with her blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail.   She looked tired.  Niall hit pause and looked at her.  He was almost surprised at how beautiful she was.  How had he forgotten? What the hell was wrong with him?

He resumed the video and watched her as she stood looking at him sleeping on the sofa.  Her expression was sad as she leaned over him and kissed his temple and stroked his hair while he slept on unaware. She straightened again and then walked to the door, grabbing her purse and briefcase and keys before leaving and closing the door behind her.  

Niall picked up his phone to call her again.  No answer.  Oh my god.  What if…No.  No.  How could he find out for sure?  The authorities wouldn’t call him, he was just her boyfriend, not her next of kin.  Stop it!  Her parents.  They would notify her parents.  Heart pounding he called her mom.   She hadn’t heard from CeeCee either and made him promise that he would bring her over for dinner on the weekend.  

He spent the next hour calling all her friends, her office and her cell.  She was nowhere.  He couldn’t just sit there any longer or he would lose his mind.  She was just late.  Something had come up.  That was it.  He decided to make dinner.  He decided on chicken with roasted veggies, her favorite meal.  He used to cook for her all the time.  He loved the smile that would light up her face when she came in after a long day to find the table set with flowers and candles.  No matter what he prepared she claimed it was her favorite meal.  He hadn’t brought her flowers in…how long had it been?  A month? Longer? Why hadn’t he?

After putting the food in the oven to bake, and calling her again to leave yet another message, he set the table with her favorite dishes.   Rummaging in a drawer he found her candle stash and arranged several of them in the center of the table.  Taking the rest, he placed them around the kitchen and the lounge and the entry hall, lighting all of them.  Soft sweet scents wafted into the air and he closed his eyes as he remembered the argument they’d had a couple of weeks ago about her buying the expensive candles.   It had been a bad day in the studio and he had come home to dozens of candles burning.  When he found the receipt, he had picked a fight with her eager to vent some of his frustration.  He had ranted at her for spending hundreds of dollars on wax.  She had just gone around the room, blowing out the flames and went up to their room.  He had followed her, still griping about her frivolous purchase.  She had finally closed the bathroom door in his face and locked it.  He still remembered hearing her cry over the sound of the shower running.  What the fuck was wrong with him?  It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford them.

He sat in one of the dining room chairs and stared at the tapers flickering in the slight breeze that his breathing caused; his mind skipping around to memories of her.

He thought of when he first met her at that ‘Irish’ pub on St. Patrick’s Day and he thought she hadn’t recognized him.  She just kept giggling at his ‘phony Irish accent’ insisting that no one really talked with a brogue that thick.  He realized that she was teasing him after she snuck one too many One Direction song titles into the conversation and he finally caught on.  They had laughed together and sang gloriously off-key songs the rest of the night.  He’d asked for her number and she had let him kiss her as the Uber driver waited patiently.  Before getting into the car she had stroked his cheek and smiled that beautiful smile at him and his heart nearly leapt from his chest.  He had called her five minutes after the car pulled away just to hear her voice again.

He thought of the first time he made love to her. He was nervous and had been trying to be so smooth but he had tripped on his boot and nearly knocked them both to the floor.  She had just busted out laughing and grabbed his face and kissed him until he could scarcely breathe.  After that there had been no awkwardness and they had moved together as if they had rehearsed.  She was passionate and giving and he was overwhelmed at the intimacy he felt with her.  It was the most intense experience he’d ever had and he was confused about the emotions he was feeling.  They had practically just met and he was falling in love with her.

He thought of when he had met her mom and dad.  They had driven out to the country club for dinner and he had been intimidated until her dad began talking about his favorite subject: golf.  While CeeCee and her mom had quietly discussed Niall, he was having a great time listening to her dad regale him with stories of all the greats he had met and even a few he had played with.  They had driven back to his place after dinner and she beamed at him as he gushed about how much he had liked her parents.  After that he played a round or two with her dad as often as he could and then the men would meet the ladies for lunch.  Those times he got a glimpse into what a future with her might look like.

He remembered the first time he told her that he loved her.  The words demanded to be said but he was afraid.  He wasn’t sure he wanted a commitment so soon and yet they were on the tip of his tongue all that evening.  He had been trying so hard to keep it to himself that he had not paid attention to anything she said.  When she called him on it, he had blurted out “I love you” as his excuse. She had sat frozen for a moment before her eyes welled up a bit and she said “Heaven help me, I love you too.”  It wasn’t long after that he had asked her to move in with him.  Sometimes he wondered if they were rushing things but he didn’t want to wait.

He wasn’t sure when it had started to unravel.  He had become busy working on the album and his tour and getting the band together.  He began to travel and would forget to call her.  When he did finally remember she always seemed upset with him.  He started to notice that little things about her began to annoy him, things he hadn’t seen at first.  Like her insistence that she would do the dishes before bed instead of immediately after dinner.  Like she didn’t always put her shoes in the closet after she took them off.  Like she forgot to stop by the dry cleaners after work like she had promised.  Her excuse was that she had wanted to get home to see him but that didn’t make the clothes appear.  Slowly he began to feel as if something was missing.  They started arguing more, and he knew it was his fault.  He had begun to take her for granted.  He stopped seeing her and appreciating her and the relationship began to wilt from his inattention.  As he sat there in the dark watching the tiny flames bob, he hoped that what they’d had wasn’t gone.

He pulled out his phone to call her and as her recorded voice came over the speaker, he heard a key in the door.  He rushed to open it, surprising her, and she gasped.  He pulled her into the house, kicking the door closed behind her.  Taking her things from her he dropped them on the floor before pulling her into a tight embrace.  She was confused by his intensity but returned his hug.  Laying her head against his chest she heard him say “Please don’t leave” over and over like a mantra.  She reached up to kiss his cheek and found that it was wet.

“Niall, what’s wrong?” she asked, concern clouding her features.

“I love you baby.   I love you and I’m sorry for being such an arse lately.  I love you and I’m sorry for not telling you and showing you.  I love you.”

[revol-lover]

need to vent.

This weekend was a shit show and I took a mental health day from work today. I promised my husband I wouldn't dwell on the issues of the weekend and I would try to take it easy but I need to let this out, I need to vent. And then I can move forward. Its so important for me to write these things down because I can only be strong for so long before I become weak willed again and let toxic people start their cycle of abuse all over on me. I need to have written reminders of what I’ve gone through to remind myself that I don't deserve this abuse and I need to limit contact.

So as I previously posted, I haven't visited my parents in a couple weeks. They haven't bothered to check in on how I am doing even though I usually visit on weekends. No one checks in on me. I’ve put a shit ton of effort into my relationship with them since getting married (well since forever but especially since moving out, keeping in touch. Its all been one sided effort coming from me). I was legitimately busy and exhausted with everything we have going on, being in my third trimester of pregnancy. I work all week, I have things to do after work nearly every single day of the week except for occasionally one or if I’m very lucky, two days, and most weekdays I work, come home, rest for an hour, make dinner, husband comes home, we eat, then we do errands and things that we have to get done during the week (groceries, laundry, house tidying, tending to the plants at the cemetery, visiting his grandmother, visiting his father at the hospital).

Being pregnant has been for the most part easy for me, and I don't take that for granted. Regardless, I’m still getting bigger and less comfortable, I have to drink a gallon of water a day which is getting difficult. I’m just tired. Most weekdays we arent home from our responsibilities until 7 pm. Then we unwind and spend time together before going to sleep and starting all over again. Therefore, my weekends have become very precious to me, as they should be. And I haven't been feeling up to visiting my parents. I am never invited over. But I’m apparently just expected to make an effort, one they do not make.

Well this weekend was my godmother’s 50th birthday. Her boyfriend wanted to surprise her with birthday cake and have family over. I wasnt sure I’d be up to going but I got suckered into buying the cake because her son had to work and no longer could and her boyfriend was surprising her with this so he couldn't go get it himself. So now I “had” to go. My parents were going so I figured this is fair enough. They will see me. It kills to birds with one stone. Well as I’m standing on my godmother’s porch waiting for them to open the door my parents walk up to the porch. My dad says hello and how have I been doing, before I have time to even properly answer he follows it up with a very bitter sounding “haven't seen you in a LONG time”. He really is trying to give me a guilt trip when he doesnt even text me. He hasn't sent me a text since April 4th and that was a “lol ok” reply to a text I had sent to him trying to make conversation about the baby. He has not called me. He has not been in touch, but he is mad that I have not gone by to visit. So I told him, straight up. “Well, I’ve been busy. My week days are busy, we have had a lot going on and I have been trying to get things done and still relax on the weekends, Oh and I’m pregnant. Also you could text me to check how I am doing and you haven't so. “He of course got mad that I had the nerve to say whats the fucking truth and was like “ I know your pregnant what is that supposed to mean” and then he stuttered angrily on “what do you mean about texting”  (does this even need an explanation? no. he doesnt get in contact with me but expects me to put him first at the busiest time of my life.) but I ignored the rest because my god mom opened the door and I Wasnt about to have an argument on her door step. So I go inside. And he persists the issue. He starts questioning me. “What do you do during the week” “what do you do during the weekend” as if I owe an explanation!!!!!! At this point I was getting flustered because I honestly wanted to fucking tell him off but being a decent person unlike apparently him, I wasnt about to have this conversation at someone’s birthday celebration! If you have problem with me address it at an appropriate time! How hard is that to comprehend. So I quickly listed off that I have been busy working and doing things we need to do to get ready for the baby and also, you know having a midwife appointment once every two weeks, soon every week. I shouldn't have even had to try to defend myself. i don't owe him a breakdown of my schedule and why he doesnt fit in it. Especially when the doesnt try to get in contact with me ever and was so disrespectful in the way he attacked me immediately with a guilt trip. The rest of the dreadful 30 minutes I was there was spent not looking at him or my mom and trying not to talk to them because I just can't do it man. I can't. My mom wasnt as bad as she couldve been but it doesnt matter. He made up for it. The annoying thing she did is, so my little niece was there, she’s 4. I haven't seen her either in a few weeks. So I picked her up. My mom literally SCREAMED “Hey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! don't do that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! your stomach!!!!!!!!!!!!” at me as if I am a fucking imbecile or flower petal who can't pick up a SMALL CHILD while I am pregnant. As if I don't know my own limitations. Oh that pissed me off and I told her that its not dangerous for me to pick up my niece and I know what I am able to do. Omfg god though. like seriously does she think I’m not going to pick up and give affection to my first child when my second comes? It was such a stupid thing to have her freak out about. As if she cares. She didnt care when I was a teenager and intentionally hurting myself because of her abuse  but she is going to freak out about me holding a child while I’m pregnant..

As we were leaving my mom handed my husband a birthday card but not without “well we didnt see you last weekend so I couldn't give it to you sooner”. They did not contact me to tell me to tell him happy birthday lol. They live two minutes away. they could have easily dropped it off themselves. But its our fault, right? Then she tried hinting that I should try to visit sometime during the week “if I want” to which.. I didnt even respond. I just ignored it. I’m not doing this guilt trip shit. I don't owe them a visit. I’m not coming to them. If they want to see me they need to make an effort because all they do is bring me stress which I don't need right now. It could have been handled so differently. All my dad had to say was “How have you been?” and left out the guilt trip. There was no need for it.

So anyway. I kept my cool on the entire situation  as best I could. But then we got home. And I just.. idk. I unravelled. I was so angry. I AM still angry. I twas out of line. I hate that my dad thinks he has the right to treat me that way. That I owe him something when he puts 0 effort into the relationship. When we do visit he's glued to his phone. He doesnt even interact. He had no right to attack me with a guilt trip. I was so upset by this when I go t home. I was pacing and shaking and having chest pain and I know this is all really bad for the baby but I couldn't calm down and this is exactly why I can't do this shit anymore. I shouldn't have to live my life afraid of when I’ll see them next because god forbid I have been making my own health and child and marriage a priority. I shouldn't have to apologize or explain that. I wrote a long message I was going to send him but didnt. I don't feel like theres anything I can say to get through to someone who doesnt understand the basic simple point of me putting myself first right now. Largely pregnant, less then 2months from the birth of my child with still a lot to do and decreasing energy and ability to do it, never mind making mentally exhausting visits to unappreciative people.. 

 I thought about calling instead of texting it. But again. I was already stressed out. I was having chest pain My husband was worried sick about me and our baby. My father isn't worth the stress but I can't just turn a switch when it comes to being treated the way I was. How can I just turn a switch and not care? I do not like cofrontation or being attacked. And I didnt deserve it. I’m being attacked for doing the right thing. For taking care of myself and my child. I’m being attacked for having my priorities straight. Do you realize how fucking much that fucks with my psyche? Its not something I can just let go.

I thought for a second I should send him an article on how stress during pregnancy can affect the baby. Yeah except I saw a scary statistic about how third trimester stress can spike up your chance of having a stillborn and went into a legitmate panic attack and my husband had to just take the phone from me. I eventually calmed down but the situation hasn't left my mind. I am home today trying to mentally recoup. I’m trying to just take care of myself but it keeps creeping into my thoughts. The disrespect. What his attack caused - the chest pains and crying and freaking out. That didnt need to happen.. that hsouldnnt have happened. That could very seriously pose a risk to me and my child like pre term labor or other terrible things. Like it just fucks me up that my own father can be so immature and careless in his actions and not even realize how it affected me. Because I care too much. Because I can't believe that after being such a good daughter despite the abuse I’ve received in my childhood, and despite his complete life long lack of protecting me from my mother, the times I’ve thought about cutting my mom off entirely but didnt because I didnt want to lose him.... the fact that all of that exists and is a part of my life, and he doesnt even care enough to treat me with the most minimal amount of respect. That he caused me so much stress it caused physical pain and put me and my child at risk. It just baffles me. I feel like he needs to know what he has done. He needs to know it wasnt ok and he hurt me. But I dint have the strength to even try to talk to him again. And it sucks because I’m forced to see him sunday at my baby shower. Then the week after is fucking fathers day. Then what am I supposed to do with that? I don't even want to see him again period and I’m forced to. I can't be having these things happen every single weekend when Im supposed to be relaxing and I don't know how to avoid it. I’m so fucking stressed out.  I wish I could just move far away and never see or speak to them again. I’m at my wits end and legitimately do not care anymore who I lose in the process but I can't do it with them being so close. I feel so trapped.