the medicine

one of the things i hate about being home,
is that my parents seem to think that it is a good
idea to fit everyone into little stereotypes
and when you get to my house... you will hear little phrases like
she did that because, or
did you do that because
but they want you to say those things... to them.
and it's really annoying, it pisses me off, my family
all of them say these little phrases
that clearly show they want you to tell them about themselves
or spout of some technical mumbo jumbo
or they want to feel intelligent by letting you know
that they know why someone did something.. and
it aggrivates me, because when i talk.
obviously i'm doing the same thing
and i need them to tell me about myself.
except the kicker is.
i don't. i don't want them to.
and when i tell hem not to
obviously that is a hardcore guarantee
i really do want them to say things.

so my dad and got into a fight the other night.
it's... so strange
i've been enjoying myself at home... for the most part...
a week ago, on tuesday... tuesday was a very good day for me
i've been a mix between apathetic and... fluttery
ever since. it's not a huge improvement. but there
has still been a change.
well that change turned.
my dad took chad and i out to go see if we could find
chad a leather jacket. so we were in the car on the way back
and for some reason, my father thinks that he needs
to shower me with praises. tell me how good of a person he
thinks i am. and every time he does
i just want him to stop.
it's so frivolous
and honestly, it's not me at all. he doesn't know anything about me
and when i tell him i don't want him to say anything
he gets all offended.
so i have stopped talking
but then he wants a response. and i don't want to give him one
by the time he says all that he feels is necessary
i'm in a very pissed off mood.
very grouchy... and agitated

my dad ended his whole little spiel about me
and i was mad at him... so i didn't say anything
so he started yelling at me.
he's convinced that i have confrontation issues
and i do.
except the thing is
i already asked him to stop
but he started provoking me.
i couldn't go anywhere
i just wanted to leave
dad, stop. i don't want to talk about this
dad, no i'm serious. i don't want to talk
dad. i don't want to talk to you.
and he wouldn't stop yelling at me.
he trapped me, in the car
and was yelling, telling me that it
doesn't matter if i don't want to talk
because he needs to help me.
and i was sitting there.
almost having a panic attack
because he's not letting me
stop talking to him.
and all i want to do is run away.
i never said anything about needing to fix
anything. and so he's going to provoke me
and make sure that i have the reaction that
he thinks i will have
as long as he manipulates the situation.
and won't stop until i do. so that
he can tell me
that i need help.
and it's like this huge bubble
has been blown around me
and inside is full of this sticky
nasty looking panic
and all i want to do is get it off of me
and i want to get as small as i can,
so that it all goes away
and when i open my mouth
to tell it to stop
the bubble gets larger
and there's more anxiety
and it's this horrible
feeling of
helplessness...