(no subject)
I can feel the stress traversing my esophagus. I can feel its feet tapping out a rhythm as it makes its way into my stomach. I can feel it smoking cigarettes (vanilla Djarums) and pressing the tips into my stomach's interiors. I can feel the burning, and I can't do anything about it.
Everything feels so small these days, like life's walls have moved just a little bit closer. Things have only adjusted themselves by about two inches -- a negligible amount to the outsider, the onlooker. But I can't move anymore. My arms refuse to lift, and I can't walk. All motion has been inhibited.
My sister tried to kick me out a little while back. She says I'm an awful person that she can't stand to live with. She told me I only think of myself, that I make her life hell, that she doesn't know what she's going to do if she has to live with me any longer. My dad put me with her because he can't deal with me, and now she can't deal with me either. I feel like such a fucking waste of everyone's time.
After that, I stayed with my father for a few days. He said she couldn't kick me out (aka he didn't want me home), so I'm still living with her. When she tried to kick me out, she said she didn't want my friends over anymore. My father said that that's not fair because, if she doesn't let them come over, I'd hardly see any of them. It's also not fair because I have to quit school for financial reasons, and I don't have a job despite how hard I've been trying, so my friends are really the only things I look forward to.
Slowly, friends have been coming over again, but I hate having them around when my sister is there. People have said she makes them uncomfortable, that they feel unwelcomed by her, that she is rude and cold to them. If people feel the need to TELL ME my sister makes them feel this way, there's obviously a problem.
And this wasn't a problem before she tried to kick me out.
Saturday night, I called my dad to talk to him about my sister. He said my sister doesn't trust most of my friends, and that's why she doesn't like them coming over. I told him I'm seventeen years old and that he doesn't trust me to make my own decisions. We had a conversation sometime last week about how all the dangers of the world aren't going to disappear once I turn eighteen and that protection isn't preparation. He said he'd work on letting me be more independent, but this is obvious proof that he's not working on it. I told him that you'd think at this point in my life I'd AT LEAST be able to pick my own friends, but he doesn't even trust me to do that much, and that's just not fair, particularly not right now.
Every time I talk to my dad, he says, "I know it's tough, but you just gotta hang in there."
But it's so fucking hard. And I'm sick of just "hanging in there." And I feel like I'm out of options. I need help, but I don't know in what form, and I'm just so scared. It's just me, alone, in the apartment. I've read all my books and watched all my movies. I don't have the Internet at home, so I can't do anything extensive online or upload/download anything. I don't have a real phone, and my cell phone minutes get used sosososo quickly. I don't have any money to pay for bus rides, and the weather's too shitty to do much walking in. I just feel... so... trapped.
And I keep thinking, "I should scream," but there are so many lumps in my throat that I can barely take in enough air to breath.