Be 19

I still feel lost. Just  a little. I've decided to go to college and pursue a degree in psychology and sociology. two different subjects if i must clarify. It's online and i'm zooming through my classes with nothing but 90s and it makes me wonder...would i have been this successful if i wasn't so bored in high school? hm.  

I waited two weeks before telling my mom about it. she said nothing the moment she found out, nothing of use anyways. the next day she printed out chore charts, something i haven't engaged in since i graduated last December. Chore charts? chore charts. like i was 12. like i hadn't spent 6+ months cleaning every surface of this house when i was alone.

Chore. Charts. like i don't pay rent. like i didn't open a credit card for her. like all of this shit SHE left on the couch in the livingroom was MINE. as if i hadn't been hoarding all of my belongings in my half of my room, as if i wasn't a grown ass adult, as she had once told me that when i, Her Daughter, called her mother, mom, mah, or any other maternal title, made her feel weird.

Chores. like i live in this hell hole, like i use her dishes, like i exist outside of my room. she made a chore chart, as if when i laughed, once too loud, just that once, she told me "ain't shit funny." As if she hadn't mocked my laugh everytime i felt something genuine, and trust me i know i'm getting off topic, but off my  chest this needs to be said, because she once said "You have no childish joy about you."

Excuse me.

what?

What?

As if it isn't YOUR fault? I was only raised by one of you, if you can consider being left alone most of the time being raised at all, my lack of 'childish joy' comes from your hands.

your voice, the words you have chosen! to say to me! 

Sunday, April 7th, 2024. an instagram post reads," Today, today, today, my mom had said "you have no childish joy about you." A repetitive sentence, i know, i know. "As if she wasn't the one to throw away my dolls, my toys, my things as if she didn't watch me cry as she made me bring everything down everything i had and put it in the dumpster with no exceptions." I shook as i typed this, hunched over my bed, trying not to cry as i remembered, "as if she hadn't mocked my laugh everytime i found something funny and grinned something genuine where my smile was the brightest. as if she wasn't the reason why i'm so afraid that at any moment i will lose everything again. as if she isn't the reason i'm terrified. as if it's not her fault there is nothing i find genuinely enjoyable about life anymore, imagine that" tap, next story "and i stared at her. because how do you respond to something like that."

be 19, almost 20, pay your moms rent even though she's on housing and has a husband, Be twenty. and lose yourself in Getting out.