i dug a hole so deep i'm gonna drown in my mistakes.

i feel like a lot of things right now.

i feel like a failure. maybe it's the inability to live up to people's expectations of me, or my inability to be what i want to be. maybe days and weeks and months and years of my mother saying it have finally sunk in. or maybe i finally decided to admit it. maybe it's because no matter how good i am at anything, i'll never be perfect at it. and perfect is all my mother will accept, it seems. the amount of self-loathing at this moment is so pathetic, that even my cat has glanced at me in pity and silently left the room. my dog has stopped whining. perhaps he realizes it wouldn't do him any good.

i feel like a bitch. one of my oldest friends- maybe not the best of friends, but friends anyway- told me her mother died today. she basically said, "remember when i said i couldn't help you when your dad died and you needed to talk? well, my mom died." that said a lot of things to me. like, i can't be there for you when you need it, but you're supposed to be my friend, so get moving. plus when i got this text from her, i was trying to figure out how long i could work out at the gym and not look suspicious. and i know i shouldn't think like this, you know? it's not easy for her. but i feel like whenever i need my friends, they're- preoccupied? unavailable? almost as if they can't talk about things that matter unless it affects them. that doesn't apply to all of my friends. the ones who understand are so dear to me. but so few.

i feel guilty. my mother blames me if the house is dirty. she blames me if she can't find something. she blames me for her gray hair. today she blamed me for her bank account being practically empty. she said mine was empty too. i need a job. so she can't blame me for being a free-loader. she blames me about our high cellphone bill. of course, my sister was the one who decided she wanted a blackberry and needed mommy dearest to pay it for her. not to mention she's responsible for seventy-five percent of the bill every month. yet somehow, things like that are overlooked. my father wasn't lying when he told me she didn't like me. that may sound weird, but i'm glad he was honest with me when i was... five? maybe six? years old.

i'm suffocating in my self-pity. my memories are rising up from the graves i buried them in. i can't close my eyes, i still see it. i can't blast music, i still hear it. i can't get rid of what's inside my head. i can't make it stop. all i can do is grip the sides of my head and wait for it to be over. just playing the waiting game.

i'm liking my week so far. it was bad on sunday, got worse yesterday and today it has boiled into a bubbling puddle of shit. i recognize this a lot better than all the sunshine and rainbows i've been seeing. i enjoy new experiences, but there's something to be said for familiarity. i can't escape it.

maybe i'll do what my cat does and stare silently at people until everything's better.

there goes that gym membership. there goes a lot of things. i ordered some used books from amazon recently (because i'm cheap like that) and my mom took one out of the mailbox today.

"did you order textbooks?"

let me tell you what you want to hear and not bury myself any deeper in shit. "yeah." 

"oh. because we really don't have money."


maybe you should've fucking thought about that before you paid some lazy ass guy to build a shitty fence that broke in less than four months. maybe you should've fucking thought about that before you had 'one of your cousins' repaint the rooms i had already painted. he did a good damn job, didn't he? leaving the blue tape on so long that when we peeled it off, the paint came off too. maybe you should've fucking thought about that before you decided to pay for tickets for you and your favorite daughter- who could've paid for herself- to go to jamaica. maybe, just maybe, you should've thought about all this shit before you let it happen. maybe you should've fucking stopped and listened to someone who can actually think rationally when she fucking has to, mom. instead of always thinking that you're the adult and you've got shit under control. because you obviously don't. and now we're broke. "i know."

my mind is slipping away from me.

honestly.