Pacifica (autumnwinds) wrote,

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I think it's time for me to go live alone in the woods for awhile and not have to deal with people. I am very, very tired. I'm tired of my mother constantly calling, essentially telling me I can go anywhere and do long as it's in Seattle, in her house, where she can dominate me. One day she'll call and yell at me for not calling, and not wanting her around me 24 hours a day...and then she'll call back, crying and depressed, and wanting reassurance that she's a good parent. Dammit. She's an awesome mom. I'm just tired of her needing constant reassurance, and I'm sick of her caging me in.

I'm tired of my relatives trying to get me to join in their vulture-circling of Grandma. She's 91 and has certainly had an awesome life, but now that she's fading and vulnerable, some of my aunts and uncles have started taking things out of her house. And they've called me, asking what I want. F*** that. I'm not taking Grandma's things away from her! SHE'S NOT DEAD. My parents are mad too. Dad yelled at my Uncle Tim on the phone, and said he'd wait until they all cleared out her house, and if there was a nickel left on the floor, he'd pick it up. The worst part is that I think most of the stuff is wanted because it's valauble, and it'll be sold for money. I asked my grandma for three things the last time I saw her. A thistle teacup out of her collection that she loved and used to serve me tea in, a patchwork quilt on the guest bed that she made, and something she sewed. Anything she sewed, as long as it was hers. I want things that remind me of Grandma...but I don't NEED those things, and I'm not taking ANY of them out of her house. If I don't get a single bauble from her when she's gone, at least I'll have some memories and self-respect.

Moreover, I'm tired of being trapped in Idaho, and I'm tired of being afraid to go anywhere else. I think NAU would be good for me, but it would be a really hard change, and I don't know if I can give my heart to it. I haven't slept well in days. I'm tired of my depression and my ever-present self-pity, and the way I stick forks in my own wounds just to watch myself bleed. I want out.

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