Whine whine whine
I have decided that staying at home for more than a couple days at a time is no longer an option in the Julia-life. This past week and a bit has made me mean like irritated mongeese. This is sad, because I love my family lots, but my sociopathic younger sister is destroying me.
Gem. is what is politely called a "commanding" girl. Everything is very serious to her except the comfort of those around her and her own deportment. In the past 3 days alone, she has caused me easily 5 panic episodes of varying severity and has made my Mum cry which is unforgiveable. She is meddling, bossy, and goes into snits that would be unbecomingly immature for a socially backwards toddler. Plus, although her room is off limits (because she needs her privacy, right?), she has spent the last couple days in my room "cleaning", which so far as I can tell mostly means moving furniture to ensure maximum impracticality, reading my papers (don't write me any racy love notes. She's spent several days hinting to my parents that I may- gasp!- be having sex with the Boy. F'really? Who'd have thought? And how is this her business? It's like morals police.), sitting on my sheets (not the coverlet, but the sheets. My sheets. The sheets on which I slumber. I have a bit of a fixation about this.), trying on my clothing, and stealing small odds and ends like my favorite black tank top and my amber beads. And of course my residence in that room is immaterial because the basement contains excess household furniture, etc.
I get panicy when I do not have an area that I cannot be alone in. I need a place where people are only allowed to come in if I let them in. I mean, I can share space with others, but only if I trust them. That's understandable, right? Well, not the panic attacks but the need for a secure space. And my parents can't stop this milchviper from meddling, because then she will be so actively bloody that everyone in the family will suffer.
I wonder if she has an actual reason for this- hormonal inbalance, mental disorder, something? I know I get pretty bad, but I don't really hold grudges. I don't understand it when people go out of their ways to make life unpleasant for others. I think she may just be a bitch, but she can be sweet to people outside of our family. She has friends. Where the 7 holies did she get the idea that living with others involves making them very very unhappy? I don't even think she hates me, she just has no respect for my comfort. And although I deal well with people hating me, I can't stand that I am bound to love her and be polite to her because I have a smidge of respect for the family and hate to see my parents feel as if they're failing to raise us right. She's beginning to remind me of vengeful landladies in Dickens novels and I swear I feel ominous chills when she enters the room.
So I need out. The Boy is coming back tonight, so I can resume my existence as a live-in popsy, but this isn't really a permanent solution. Next summer, no even pretending to live at home.
And I had fun things to write about too. Boo hiss.
Gem. is what is politely called a "commanding" girl. Everything is very serious to her except the comfort of those around her and her own deportment. In the past 3 days alone, she has caused me easily 5 panic episodes of varying severity and has made my Mum cry which is unforgiveable. She is meddling, bossy, and goes into snits that would be unbecomingly immature for a socially backwards toddler. Plus, although her room is off limits (because she needs her privacy, right?), she has spent the last couple days in my room "cleaning", which so far as I can tell mostly means moving furniture to ensure maximum impracticality, reading my papers (don't write me any racy love notes. She's spent several days hinting to my parents that I may- gasp!- be having sex with the Boy. F'really? Who'd have thought? And how is this her business? It's like morals police.), sitting on my sheets (not the coverlet, but the sheets. My sheets. The sheets on which I slumber. I have a bit of a fixation about this.), trying on my clothing, and stealing small odds and ends like my favorite black tank top and my amber beads. And of course my residence in that room is immaterial because the basement contains excess household furniture, etc.
I get panicy when I do not have an area that I cannot be alone in. I need a place where people are only allowed to come in if I let them in. I mean, I can share space with others, but only if I trust them. That's understandable, right? Well, not the panic attacks but the need for a secure space. And my parents can't stop this milchviper from meddling, because then she will be so actively bloody that everyone in the family will suffer.
I wonder if she has an actual reason for this- hormonal inbalance, mental disorder, something? I know I get pretty bad, but I don't really hold grudges. I don't understand it when people go out of their ways to make life unpleasant for others. I think she may just be a bitch, but she can be sweet to people outside of our family. She has friends. Where the 7 holies did she get the idea that living with others involves making them very very unhappy? I don't even think she hates me, she just has no respect for my comfort. And although I deal well with people hating me, I can't stand that I am bound to love her and be polite to her because I have a smidge of respect for the family and hate to see my parents feel as if they're failing to raise us right. She's beginning to remind me of vengeful landladies in Dickens novels and I swear I feel ominous chills when she enters the room.
So I need out. The Boy is coming back tonight, so I can resume my existence as a live-in popsy, but this isn't really a permanent solution. Next summer, no even pretending to live at home.
And I had fun things to write about too. Boo hiss.
posted by J at 1:07 PM
3 Comments:
Next summer: work visa and staying in the hinterlands maybe? I think our government is doing something to make that possible....
My sibling of the age of 15 is of similar disposition, just instead of the entering of rooms, she is into the whiskey.
These children really just need a punch in the face.
I am sorry you are having a rough time, but you will be home soon in Halifax...
Yes, yes. Stay in Halifax next year. Lately it is almost exactly like America, complete with drawling tourists who are nasty about sandwiches and cannot read maps. Alternatively, consider a four month hibernation. We all know you don't sleep enough anyway.
Post a Comment
<< Home