So after years of tolerating my stepmom's general bitchiness and her offhand snide comments, I yelled at her. Really yelled at her. It felt good, but I knew that I burned the bridge to living at my dad's. Now I'm in my mom's new house.
She woke me up last Monday at 7 A.M. and told me I couldn't "sleep all day." I guess 7 is considered late in delusionland. I had worked pretty late the night before and I was still very tired, but in an effort to maintain what sliver of tolerance I had for her I got in the shower. I was upset that she woke me up so harshly (I don't think getting 6 hours of sleep qualifies me as a "princess") and I began to cry in the shower.
I don't cry often because it makes me feel weak. I do everything I can to hide it if I do cry. So when I began to sob uncontrollably in the shower, I knew I couldn't just walk out and go about with my day because I couldn't stop. It took all I had to keep it quiet enough so she wouldn't hear me over the water.
Once I pulled it together, I got out and got dressed and put my hamper full of dirty clothes in the washing machine. I took my dad's clothes out of the dryer and began folding them in the living room thinking I was safe from more pointless persecution since my stepmom was in my room job hunting. I was wrong. She waltzed out of my room and down the hall to the living room to ask me tersely why I wasn't living with my mother.
Now, I love my mom and I know she tries, but it's hard to live when you never know if you'll have to pack up at a moment's notice and live with a random relative for God knows how long. I thought I might stay at my dad's to maintain some kind of stability.
When she asked my why I wasn't living with my mom, the dam broke and I just yelled at her, "What does it matter? I've put up with your comments and dislike towards me for years and I'm fucking tired of it. I don't know what I did to make you hate me but I won't put up with you anymore." She then went on to tell me that I never follow the one rule she set down and I told her that even when I do follow it, she finds something else to be mad at me about.
She vehemently denied that, but I didn't expect her to own up to her own flaws. I brought up the fact that her son can come and go as he pleases and she told me that it was different for him because it's her house. I asked her, wasn't it my dad's house too? Don't I deserve the same privileges? I guess I don't, she said that she pays the bills so it's her house.
"Whose room is that back there? Whose bed is that?" I asked her.
"My room! My house, my room! I'm tired of your princess act!" She replied.
"You won't have to worry about it, I'm moving out!" I finished.
I went down into the basement and waited for my clothes to dry and cried. A little loudly, I'm ashamed to admit. I texted my dad about it and he basically replied to me with lighthearted jokes. I know he loves me and I know he wants me to stay there, but I can't. She is such a self-righteous bitch. I can't handle it.
"Where am I supposed to go where it's stable AND I'm wanted?" I asked my dad.
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