I've become obsessed with independence. It's true. I was symphazing with the girls in Barbie's Princess and the Pauper (which by the way, although still insanely corny, is better than I thought it would be and it was much better than Barbie and Swan Lake). Yes, kind of pathetic.
Only 59 days left until my 18th birthday and not long after that I'm heading to College Station.
It's insane because I love this place. I love this house, I like my classes at MoCo, I'm going to miss all my friends so much as well as my brother and sisters. I wouldn't have any qualms about staying here another year except I can't live my own life.
I do have so liberites, so please don't see me as a prisoner under lock and key forced to eat only bread and water. I have a life of my own and I have all the direct control, but indirectly... I'm a marrionet waiting for the scissors to come in the mail.
Illustrations? I do have my own room. It's my space, the only space I can truely claim as my own, right? Well, my mother has this mahogany tv system that she didn't want downstairs anymore. She asked if I wanted it in my room. I didn't. I suggested the game room upstairs. No one goes up there besides the kids. She didn't answer me. Two weeks later she announces the cabinet is going in my room. Apparently, she doesn't give a damn what I want in this case. Well, I'm moving out in a few months anyways so who cares. I let it go. Now the thing is in my room and I have to set up the shelves (which make the thing monstorous and are the reason I didn't want it in my room in the first place). I asked why the shelves have to be set up, and she said because when I move out someone might want to use the shelves for storage or something. So, why can't they be set up after I move out? I ask a logical question and she ignores me... for a few seconds then she starts harping about my closet. I ignore her (getting way to good at that) and finish my desk. She finishes but on the way out has the audacity to lecture me about being appreciative of having some storage.
I just finished going through the millions of boxes in my room (I never really unpacked... never had proper furniture to put anything in/on... interesting psycological reasons behind that I'm sure) and tossing what I'm not taking with me to College Station or is being put in the attic. It was a very exciting day for me. Now, I have so little possessions it's quite liberating and scary... and kind of lonely. I feel like they're trying to kick me out and I'm definatly retaliating. Cleaning out the boxes was part of that, so is all the disscussion about an early moving date (which for whatever motives are behind it, does have practical reasons). I don't spend a lot of time at home, and the time I spend with my mother is spent thinking about how quickly I can get out.
Not the way things are supposed to be, but I have no real desire to rock the boat. I'll just wait until we reach shore.
*sigh* It's confusing me occasionally, because I can be so high in the clouds one minute then all I have to do is come home and she starts listing off why I'm a horriable tenant (no, she hasn't said the words yet. I think because it's only short-term now the rent issue won't come up). My mood takes a complete dive and I sit her fuming for a half-hour. Why does she have such control over my moods? I thought I was used to this.
And now I feel horriable because I've been very introspective and self-centered for a few weeks now. I apoligize to the friends I let down.
Hope everyone has a wonderful day!
Honey Bunchkins of Oats- Just for you, I'll think about making good choices *wink*
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