I've tried to resist the ceaseless gnaw of temptation, but alas, I am giving in.
I DONWANNA GO HOOOOOOOME!
How did I think that I would stop feeling this way if I didn't say it aloud? It's just become an obsession and a terrible method of measuring my self-worth, and PUNISHING myself when I fail. Why should I not say it? Why, for that matter, should I not feel it? My family has given me very little proof that they can behave civilly toward me, even given my direct requests for adult behavior. They start out okay, but it all falls to pieces within mere minutes.
So why SHOULDN'T I have panic attacks about this? Should I really pretend things are gonna be just dandy? Or should I prepare for battle?
3 comments:
Jo,
Why go then? Some families are just un-deal-with-able and should be put on a once-a-year policy. Though I like your parents just fine but if I were you maybe I wouldn't ... My boyfriend brings me wine in blue bottles because they match one tiny thing in my kitchen and it reminds me of your parents and their blue bottles and all the apple stuff.
When are you going home?
J-Kitty-Kat
I agree. If you hate going home, don't. It's one of the benefits of being an adult...choosing what you want your life to look like. I too like your parents, but they aren't my parents and don't get me started on siblings...
"I'd like to visit with you, but coming home is just too stressful for me. I'd love it you guys wanted to come and see me though." ?
Siblings indeed... grrr.
It's funny, isn't it, how outwardly likeable my parents are. Maybe this whole thing is a delayed phase of embarrassment that should have hit when I was fourteen.
Hmm. The panic attacks say otherwise.
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