09-30-03 @ 10:31 am EDT

Sorry; I really don't know what's come over me lately. I grouse about not being able to post in my journal, and then I don't post in it. I really can't say why. It just seems that when I have something to type about I don't feel like posting, and when I do feel like posting I don't have anything to type about. And even though I figure I have plenty of time and space to go on this site before it closes down for good, I'm still reluctant to post in my journals. Not knowing how many of these long entries will eventually equal 2mb, and when, bothers me. I haven't even touched my dream journal even though I need to update it. I'm just afraid that if I try to edit the latest entry, which NEEDS proofing, that it will tell me sorry, it's too long. Then what do I do, delete the entry and post it in a new journal? (Hm; I guess that's a thought. But still.)

I've embarked yet again on Project Print Skew and have reached April 2002. I'm serious this time. No more wishy-washy. Each month (September 2001 is divided in two) is getting a cover and everything. I'll need to stick them in a box but I haven't resolved that issue yet. Each cover has a little representative photo on it. September 2001's is obvious; October 2001 has a picture of Pepper, as that's the month she died, and November 2001 has Cosmas as that's when we adopted him; January 2002 has a snowy scene on it; etc.

Then I punch holes in them and bind them with these little metal tack/clasp thingies and set them in a pile. This has oddly led to a great deal of arguing with my mother. For some reason the printer has been acting up with me nonstop and she insists it's my fault, because as I should know by now, everything that breaks in my vicinity is my fault, whether I actively did something to break it or not. The printer just keeps jamming and printing crookedly and shutting down and freezing and pulling errors and it only seems to do it when I'm using it, as she insists she's never had trouble. Maybe because she's never had print jobs as long as mine? The longer you use the thing, the more you notice the errors. And Ma would not notice a crooked page. We fought again this morning (as I'm always waking her up when I get mad at the printer, since SHE SLEEPS IN THE LIVING ROOM--again, it's my fault that she does that and that the printer is in the dining room, right NEXT to where she sleeps--sorry, it's my fault) and she demanded to "see how" I print things, as if I'm doing something horribly wrong. (Yes, I must be inserting paper into the printer incorrectly, as it's a very difficult procedure.) Never mind that I already showed her this the last time; I had to show her again. Then she insisted on doing it her way--she started to put in several sheets but I said no because I am printing ONE SHEET at a time. So she LICKED HER FINGER to pick up one sheet and of course got it wet! I don't want to print on wet paper! She said it'll dry, but it had already left a wrinkled spot; plus when she picked up the paper she practically grabbed it so it was bent already!

I ended up sounding like Monk or something but what I didn't tell her is: I want this entire project to look nice. That's one reason I haven't been JAMMING paper into the printer like she insists I have. I'm being very careful and precise, and yes, I'm bothered by the wrinkles and the wet spots and the ink blotches and the crooked printing, because I want my journal to look NICE! I'm going to print it and store it away as archive. I already had to tell her it was my journal I was printing out, as embarrassing as that was; ever since learning she had READ part of it online, I just haven't been able to openly talk about my journal around her or Dad. I just feel too humiliated. My journal, when my parents are around, really does feel like something that should be the equivalent of undergarments or women's hygiene products--something you hide, something you do not show off or talk about in their presence. Maybe I would have mentioned it to them before, but not now that I know she peeked into it. It's too embarrassing.

So after we fixed the printer again I practically had to yell at her to get out of the room, as she was insisting on watching me print, on loading the paper herself in a manner which was not suitable for printing things nicely. This got her VERY angry. I told her afterwards while she was still steaming that I just did not want her in the room while I'm printing my journal because it's PRIVATE! "I'm not going to read it!" she snapped. "How do I know that? You read it before!" I shot back. "Oh WHATEVER!" she yelled, and turned on the TV to drown me out. (Thus jacking up our power bills--but that's my fault too you know, because every time the power bill comes along *I* am the one lectured to turn off lights and turn off the TV when I'm not using them, even though I already do this and it's my PARENTS who don't...)

That "Oh WHATEVER!" got to me even more than her nosiness, because it seems that every time I am legitimately upset about something (I needed some privacy!--a journal is private!--has she never been young and needed to keep something from her parents?--it's not like I'm doing drugs or anything), she minimizes how I feel with some snide comment. Whenever I state to her what is upsetting me, her response is almost always along the lines of "Oh, BROTHER!" or "Get over it!" Why do my feelings of hurt mean so little to her? When she's hurting (and I'm not the cause), I never, ever would insinuate that she's being stupid or foolish. That's just inconsiderate! Even if I don't really understand what's making her upset, I would sympathize, because different things bother each of us, and we are each bothered by different things.

Which explains why I get so pissed off with people who say, "It's just the Internet, get over it!" Oh fine for them, if it doesn't bother them; but "just the Internet" DOES get to some people and it's as legitimate a complaint as any! If something causes mental anguish--no matter how silly the source may seem to YOU--it's STILL causing mental anguish for SOMEBODY and that should not be written off as meaningless. We all react differently--GET OVER IT! And quit dictating how everybody should react to different things! To do so is just stupid, and rude. You don't see me telling these people to GET UPSET over the Internet, do you? So they should not be telling others to NOT get upset. Sheesh.

But anyway. It just seems that everything that upsets me doesn't matter to my parents; that they think I get upset at things that don't count. I'm sure that if it were HER printing out something important, if I shrugged it off she would be angry...hold on, I even remember that happening once. I wrote about it here in Skew (well, in the other edition). It was when she was scanning pictures of the baby and wanted to know the proper scanning settings so she could get them to come out nice. I dismissed her with "Do whatever you like," and she got very angry with me and brushed ME off so we got into a big fight. There, now I know that she would feel the exact same way I do when she brushes off MY feelings. How come she can't see that?

Even if what I worry or feel hurt about seems minor to her or to Dad, why does that matter so much? It worries me, or makes me feel bad. Isn't that what matters? That I'm hurting? For them to always just brush it off and make me feel like I'm stupid for feeling the way I do...well, it just hurts even more. It tells me that they don't care what I think or feel whenever they do that.

Not that I bothered telling her this time, though. Why try? If I did she would tell me to shut up and stop being stupid. :(

Wow...I did not even intend to write all this. But I guess I may as well keep going while I'm at it. Sorry I didn't turn on the warning violet when I had the chance.

I just wish I knew a way I could convey this to them without us all breaking out in an argument yet again. That's what happens every time I try to describe what's bothering me. I realize that at times I too fall prey to the "always" syndrome--you've seen me do it in this entry, when I say they ALWAYS make me feel that way. I can't recant that because that's how it FEELS to me, like they always do. And it always does feel like I'm the one blamed when something breaks around here, or when a bill is high, even though *I* am the one nagging THEM to turn off lights and such. I could be wrong and there have probably been times I was not blamed, but it feels like always. My mom "always" insists I enjoy causing her trouble. She must not think much of me at all if she really believes I live to irritate her (I am not lying, she has claimed that I deliberately provoke her to fight with me--when the truth is we just both have short fuses, and can't seem to discuss ANYTHING rationally when we're upset), if she believes that I don't even know how to properly load paper into the printer, if she believes that I am the one responsible whenever something goes wrong. (Remember an old entry from October of 2001, I believe--"Obligatory Gripefest Of The Day," I think?--when I could not get a print program to work and the first words out of her mouth were, "What did you do to it?" WHY DID SHE ASSUME I CAUSED THE PROBLEM??)

She also often thinks I am blaming her for things I am not blaming her of doing. For example, I suggested that the printer roller had broken or something, and immediately she retorted with, "Oh yeah, blame it on ME!" when I had said no such thing! For all I know it IS my fault for printing too much! I only suggested an alternative to HER theory--that it's all in my head, or that I'm loading paper wrong--and she took it personally. She thinks I think she is stupid, when the truth is, I think she's just ignorant sometimes (ignorant as in, does not always know all the pertinent information--I myself am often ignorant, it's not really a bad word!), and stubborn to admit when she's wrong--like me. I have never claimed she is stupid.

I just get frustrated when she often tells me she has done something and then I later on find out that she did not do it or, if she did, she did not do it as she said she did. (She often claims she paid bills when she did not, then gets angry when I of course get upset that she wasn't truthful with me--I KNOW she can't pay them sometimes, I just would like to know if they HAVE been paid or not--she has no reason to lie to me! Also she told me she cleared up the two accounts matter with NMO last time she spoke with them, only to tell me last night that she told them to GET RID of one account--for God's sake--I gave her simple instructions on what to tell them, and those were not them! That was not what she told me she did the other day! Why does she do this??) And I get frustrated when she refuses to understand something I'm doing--I'm always explaining things to her repeatedly, as if she forgets--I just feel she does not listen to me, because she feels I am always wrong. I know that I too am very stubborn and resistant to trying something if I feel it won't work--I didn't want to load the paper the way she said I should--even if when I DID follow her advice, the rollers didn't grab it anyway, proving me right! But at least I did try it, eventually. I explain these things to her but she still insists I'm doing something wrong, that I should have done something else which I already explained to her that I tried...and she somehow forgot. Witness me having to show her how I loaded the paper...two nights in a row.

I'm losing focus here, sorry. I'm just so frustrated and hurt that she seems to believe I am responsible for every error or accident, for whenever something doesn't work; that I live to make her miserable; that I'm being stupid by asking for privacy, or by getting upset when she swears at me; that I am so ignorant I don't even know how to load a printer; that I wake her up on purpose, when the truth is I just can't help it--what does she expect, sleeping in the very next room like that? There isn't even a door. And what upsets me most of all is how whenever any of this upsets me, as it upsets her too, my hurt is always brushed off with a brusque comment like "Oh BROTHER!" or "Get a brain!" (She yelled that at me this morning--I followed it with "Act your age!" as she had again used the F word, something which WE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO.) She and Dad can act just as immature as me sometimes. I'm not claiming I'm better, far from it; I just wish they could understand I'm feeling the same anger and hurt they're feeling, and try to work it out without resorting to yelling. I always try not to yell but eventually I can only take so much, she starts to yell, I start to yell, everything disintegrates and we both turn into screaming children...

I just want us to act like the mature adults we're supposed to be. All of us. Me too. I realize it would take work, but it would only work if all of us worked at it. I'm too afraid to even bring it up because I know it would result in another brushing off and then a fight! :(

*sigh* We are all so messed up...I just wish we were normal people. I hate it that I can't even open my mouth about what's upsetting me if I don't want to start a ruckus. How do I hold all of that in? I have to be there for my parents when they are upset (well, for Ma; Dad does not want to talk to ANYONE when he's upset, even asking him pisses him off), but when I am upset...I can't tell anyone. Nobody. Because if I do, I know I will just be the one responsible for making it much worse, and you have to understand how awful it feels living 24 hours in the same house with the same people you have pissed off. Lately I've been getting heartburn an awful lot, even with things that shouldn't give you heartburn. Is it bothering me that much? I've gone a long time now without hitting myself, but I really do think I'll break that fast today. I deserve a good bruise.

Before I went way off on all of that tangent, I was going to post a short entry, the first paragraph or so maybe, and then say that I have discovered something odd and kind of seamy about Damien's past (yes, seamier than what you already know) which I hadn't known before. I won't bother posting it though. Sorry for all the bitching, but I can't really tell my parents about any of this. I wish that, if we had to fight about something, we would fight about important things, the way other people do. Bills and stuff, things which really ARE a problem. Not about how the printer is acting, and about the privacy I want while printing my journal.

So okay, I'm hyper-private and minimize what's on the screen if I'm proofing a Chronicle and a parent passes through the kitchen behind me. I can't help it. I just feel too intruded upon. I could just ease the tension and finally tell them what I'm REALLY writing...but I would hate to even THINK of what crap THAT would start!

I already took two Rolaids a few hours ago but I think I need some more. :( Well, thanks for being here, Skew.