I had a really long entry I had wanted to post, but because it is Christmas break, Psychobrat doesn’t have to be up early in the mornings, so she feels perfectly legitimate in taking my designated computer time late at night, when I used to be the only one awake. Is this just? No, of course not. So I’ve been sitting here for the last 3 hours, waiting for her to get off of it, and trying to keep myself awake. She finally got off of it at 3:45…about half an hour after I usually am. Then she doesn’t have the decency to come and let me know, even though I’ve asked her a couple of times over these past three hours.
Last night, all hell broke loose in my house once again. Brother was in Sister’s room, playing on her Playstation…she was at the computer…my parents and I were watching Christmas movies out here in the living room. I was also cooking this TV dinner thing, and a little while after I ate it (I’m not certain if Brother went into the kitchen or not during this time), my dad went into the kitchen for something. Suddenly, he said, “Uhhh…” loudly, in the sarcastic tone he uses to make it seem like he isn’t the asshole because it’s your fault and now he’s going to behave like an asshole and shame someone.
Mom, recognizing the same time, immediately muted the television. The time for peace and quiet was over and we would no longer be allowed to finish our movie.
We both looked over. The freezer was open just a crack.
I immediately knew three things—that we have been having problems with too much stuff in the freezer keeping the door from shutting all the way…that it was not my fault, because I already had known this and so have been taking extra care not to walk away from the freezer door unless absolutely certain it was closed…and that I would not be able to convince anyone of my innocence in the matter.
He said, in the same idiotic sarcastic tone, “Uhhh…Ginny? Come here,” and I said, “No, I see it from here.” He just looked at me, feigning not to have heard me, so I repeated, “I can see it from here.”
He said, “Do you see what the problem is here?”
“Yeah, I see,” I said. “The freezer door isn’t shut all the way.”
Not “somebody left it open” or “I left it open”…no, I was going to make him spell it out, in order to play my cards right and buy as much of an innocent front as I could. If I appeared to not understand what he was actually getting at, it would seem it really was not my fault. (Maybe this is part of the reason he’s always saying I have mental problems…because I have to feign it so often with him.)
He said, “Weren’t you using this a little while ago?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I was, but I made sure it was closed when I was finished.”
He gave that impatient sigh that he gives when he is ready to display his anger at the most ideal moment so that it seems as though his growing angry is somehow your fault. I remained outwardly calm. He said, his voice just dripping with the sarcasm now—the stage where he wishes to make it appear that he is trying to keep his cool, but you are just driving him further and further from it—“Ginny…somebody left the freezer door open. Were you not making a TV dinner a little while ago?”
“I was,” I said, “but I closed the door when I was finished.”
He sighed again, more heavily this time. “Who else has been using the freezer tonight? As far as I know, you were the last one to use it.”
“I don’t know; someone else might have used it,” I said. “I didn’t leave it open. I know we’ve been having problems with it, so I’ve been taking extra care to close it when I’m done with it.”
That was what I tried to say. I only got about as far as “extra care” before he interrupted and said, “I’m not trying to start an argument here! I’m just trying to point out that this is a problem, and I don’t understand why nobody notices these things except for me!”
“Nobody else has been in there until just now,” I pointed out.
He sighed. “That is not the point,” he said, his voice growing angrier by the second. “The point is that nobody notices these things—it’s always me—and we’re having a problem with the freezer, and somebody just walked away and left it open! And you’re saying it wasn’t you, but I don’t know who else it could have been, unless your brother came in here at some point and opened it.”
“Wasn’t me,” I said.
He sighed and started arguing with my mom. I sat staring straight ahead until finally he walked into his room for a moment, and then I headed straight to mine and sat down on the floor, listening to the storm erupt. My dad was yelling the usual at my mom, things like, “I think I have a right to be angry when something like this happens! But I’m always the bad guy. Always! Because you just sit there and don’t show any emotion at all!”
Of course Mom doesn’t show emotion. He’ll turn it into a weapon. She knows better.
As is inevitable in the middle of one of these, because everyone knows it pisses him off even more…the phone rang. What’s even better is that it was Brown Mucus. This is when Psychobrat joined in the conversation. She said, “Oh, it’s…that girl who’s always calling for Ginny that we don’t answer the phone to.”
There was a short silence…the phone was still ringing…and my dad said, “Just let it ring, then.”
When it was finished, and she didn’t leave a message, he said, “She talks to me. I don’t understand why it is that I can have perfectly normal conversations with other people…I go out of the house, to the library or somewhere, and people just seem to want to come to me with their problems, people enjoy talking to me…and I come back here, and I’m an asshole again because I’m angry.”
My mom said, “You are angry 24/7!”
He said, “Yeah. And nobody understands why I get that way, do they?”
Routine, routine. It goes in circles, and people say they don’t understand why he gets that way, and he blames it on everyone else…his anger is never his fault. It isn’t his fault that he is always angry. No; that’s always our faults. We failed as a family to keep him from yelling at us once again.
But then Psychobrat piped up, “I do!”
He said, “You do? Why do you understand?”
She said, “Because I’m exactly the same way!”
On they went, discussing why “getting angry” is natural and it relieves stress, and they were right to be the way they were, and there’s something wrong with people who don’t let their anger out at their families 24/7, and they kept on going and going, and my mom wasn’t saying anything…it was as though they had staged the conversation! That’s really what it sounded like. Add that to the fact that I’d been trying to solve the freezer mystery (which sounded a lot like the Bisquick one, if you think about it)…and the two were so similar that I could actually believe my dad had walked in there and opened the freezer a crack when no one was looking, just so he could yell at me.
Anyway, Psychobrat started talking about the other day with her clothes, and a couple days after that, both those occasions when Milo went and told her to stop yelling at us and bothering us because it was her problem and not ours, so my dad was saying, “Yeah, and I don’t understand those sorts of people! How can you tell someone not to let their anger out!? It’s just like your sisters,” nodding to my mom, bringing up her side of the family again, one of his favorite subjects when he’s trying to make us feel like shit.
Around about this point, I had another panic attack.
It made my second one in a week. I was shaking uncontrollably. They seem kind of like seizures, almost. I feel like there may be something in my subconscious that triggers them, as a way to sort of relieve stress…a momentary loss of all control…so while it’s like I’m deliberately causing it (although I’m not sure of that)…it’s like I can’t prevent it because they are an outlet to release the stress, and if I want that brief loss of control, it’s going to happen. I don’t know, I’m not a psychiatrist…I have no idea if that’s what they’re from. But anyway, I climbed under the covers in my bed, not adjusting them, just sort of…slithering under there…and just laid there, shaking, almost blacking out because my head was shaking so much…it lasted several minutes, just lying there shaking, like I was cold (even though, like last time, I did start to get hot under the covers)…and then it just abruptly stopped. All of a sudden—just…stopped. No more teeth chattering, no more shaking…nothing. And the whole time, my family was out in the living room, yelling at each other, with no idea of what was going on in there. I didn’t tell them, either. Nobody except Brother and my mom even know about the one earlier in the week.
So I called Katie and told her. I wasn’t going to go out of my room where people were yelling about me and how incompetent, disrespectful, and worthless I am. I heard my dad bring up the Christmas lights again…the ones on the outside of the house…apparently, they were turned off the other night, and he hadn’t done it, so he was yelling at us for not having noticed it. He didn’t understand why he was the one who always found these things, and why everyone else is so oblivious…and Sister piped in that she hadn’t been home to find it.
Then he mentioned another occasion a few days ago, when he came home to find the thermostat set to something called emergency heat, which apparently drives the bill way up. He was yelling that no one noticed that except him, either. By this point, Brother had come out of his room, so now all four of them were out there, and each of them denied having set it that way, so my dad said, “That leaves two people…and I know if I ask one of them, I’m just going to get an attitude about it. And Milo’s not here, so….”
I wonder if they realize how well I can hear them from inside my room with the door shut.
Explaining all this to Katie, we were joking about how he expects us to go looking for problems. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think to walk out the front door in the cold to make sure that the lights were still on. I didn’t think to go and look at the thermostat to make sure it wasn’t set to emergency heat, which I didn’t even know existed. I’m sorry I didn’t think to walk into the kitchen and make sure the freezer door was shut. I’m sorry that it is impossible to search the entire house for every single problem….”
Well…on a new subject. Went to some friends’ house tonight. Jenna, Kara, her boyfriend Chad, Milo, and I were all there, sitting around the living room and talking. At some point, Milo mentioned somebody (I was half asleep by this point), and Kara said, “Oh, is that that girl that I met, one of those ones that you like?” (I immediately awoke again.) “Yeah, Moe…Moe is cool,” he said. “She’s also the only one who ever has time to hang out.”
So, now I know for a fact—he does like her. She probably likes him back; she certainly calls him enough. They talk on the phone a lot, and he’s always saying, “Moe this” and “Moe that”, and they hang out all the time. And Kara said, “One of the girls you like”! So that also tells me there are others…probably Heather. I don’t know who else, if there’s anymore than that. “One of them” implies two at the least.
Okay…I’m tired of this. I’m going to bed.