I think maybe I had a panic attack today. I’m not quite sure.
I got up around 1 and heard the end of Sister’s bitching about wanting to take out my parents’ van. They finally conceded. About five minutes later, I went and got in the shower. I was in there maybe 10 minutes, had just put shampoo in my hair, when Dad kicked the door and said, “GET THE HELL OUT OF THE SHOWER! I’M IN A HURRY!”
“I have to rinse out my hair!” I said.
A few seconds later he yelled, “VIRGINIA! GET THE HELL OUT OF THE SHOWER NOW! YOUR SISTER’S BEEN IN AN ACCIDENT; I NEED IT SO I CAN GO!”
I screamed, “ALL RIGHT!”
“YOU CAN STAND OUT HERE WET FOR A MINUTE!” he yelled. “GOD, THERE’S JUST NO ARGUING WITH YOU KIDS!”
Meanwhile, I was turning off the water–without rinsing out my hair, because I understood the urgency of the matter–and I said, “I wasn’t arguing!”
“YEAH, BUT YOU DIDN’T GET OUT OF THE SHOWER UNTIL I YELLED AT YOU THAT IT WAS AN EMERGENCY, DID YOU!?”
“YOU WERE YELLING FROM THE VERY FIRST WORD!” He’s always yelling. Always. How should I be able to distinguish emergency yelling from just being an asshole yelling?
So then…then…he went in the bathroom and said, “YOU’VE GOT THE FLOOR ALL SOAKING WET IN HERE, JUST LIKE YOUR SISTER IS ALWAYS COMPLAINING ABOUT! SHE’S RIGHT, YOU KNOW!”
I just could not believe the injustice of this situation. “There’s not a towel on the floor!” I said.
“OH YEAH, IT’S THE SAME OLD EXCUSE EVERY TIME, ISN’T IT!?”
I didn’t answer that. I just stood there wondering why it was that he was in such a hurry that I had to get out of the shower without rinsing soap out of my hair, but then he expected me to wipe up the floor before I came out. And then he had the time to stand there and yell at me about it.
I went into my room with the towel on and shut the door, and I was just sitting there on the floor and he was in the shower yelling all this shit about how she slammed into a sign and the brakes didn’t work, and why weren’t my keys somewhere where we could get to them in an emergency (they were in my purse where I couldn’t lose them) and yada yada yada…. So I was just sitting there, and I just started shaking, and I thought I was having a freaking seizure or something. I was just shaking violently, and then I started sobbing and gasping for breath, and he was still in the shower yelling, and finally he left and I immediately called Cortney.
“Hello?” she said.
And I just started screaming: “OH MY GOD, I HATE MY LIFE! I HATE MYSELF, I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF! I HATE MYSELF!”
And then I just screamed and cried and she said, “Ginny, tell me what’s wrong. Do you need me to come and get you?” and I started screaming again. All she made out were the words “Sister” and “car”, so she assumed Sister had stolen my car and wrecked it. So she said, “I’m coming to get you right now, okay?” after I had calmed down a bit and was just panting, and I said okay and went to rinse off and get dressed.
Brother and his friend were home, and he came to the door and asked me what was wrong, and I screamed something at him (which I feel terrible about, and I don’t even remember what I said), and…you know that feeling when you get out of a hot bath, like you can feel your blood all over? I felt like that…it was like my insides were even shaking.
Cortney picked me up and told me she wasn’t going to let me go to work, so I called in sick.
Mom called, and I told her Cort had picked me up. She assumed it was to take me to work, since she had my car.
“I’m taking your sister to the hospital. She doesn’t want to go, she says she’s fine, but she was in a pretty serious accident.”
“With a street sign?” I replied coldly. Maybe it was shitty of me, but I can’t forgive the way I was treated and what he made happen to me.
“No, it was one of those cinder block signs at the front of a neighborhood.”
“Oh. …How’s the sign?”
“Destroyed, and we’re paying the $4,000 to have it fixed, so we are now bankrupt.” The van is also totaled, apparently.
They’re not pissed at her, though. At least, Mom isn’t. I don’t know whether Dad is; all I know is, he’s pissed at me, and like I’m always saying, I despise the fact that he blames me for everything she does…every time she does anything…he takes it out on me. Not her. Me. That’s why I got so upset today. I do feel sort of guilty for pretending not to care about my sister, but I was so pissed off.
Cortney bought me a smoothie, then we went to Walmart, watched TV, took a nap, and watched Labyrinth, so I’ve had lots of time to cool off. Still, I told Mom what happened after they got home and I started shaking again just talking about it. I thought it was a seizure, which I didn’t even know could happen to people who aren’t epileptic, but now I’m thinking I had a panic attack.