After I took a shower when we got home from camping, I started to feel sick. The sneezing, the aching, the itchy sore throat, the exhaustion. It felt like what I'd had at the beach with PC's family. That sickness that lasted like three or four weeks and never really got identified. I went to the Fair with PC, Sophie, Anna, and Jordan anyway. I felt really awful, but we did have fun.
I spent all of fall break with PC. Wednesday afternoon, dinner. All day
Thursday, all day Friday, all day Saturday, all day Sunday. Now that I
think about it, I know that was too much, even though I was also with my
family. It was too much PC for them. It's just that I like him, and he
makes me feel better when I'm sick. He takes the best care of me.
Because I was sick, I spent Sunday night at home and drove back for my 11am on Monday.
After everyone went to bed Sunday night, PC stayed and helped me pack.
It was about 11:20pm when Mom came stomping down the stairs.
"WHAT are you doing?" she demanded.
"YOU--" she glared at me "--need to go to SLEEP. If you're SICK."
"He's just helping me pack," I said. "I'm gonna be fine. It's gonna be fine. I'll get enough sleep."
I don't remember if anything else was said, really. I may have said
something like, "Just let me handle things." I know she ended with,
"We'll talk about this later," and stalked away.
PC also apparently left the garage door open all night, which she told me this morning. Guess he's shit listed for sure now.
My family is driving me terrible places. This is not about PC. He just
happens to be a tangible manifestation of what's going on in my life. My
parents want what's best for me, I know. But they're stressing me out
and making me want to run in the opposite direction.
They want me to not see PC so much and not have "bad" friends and never cuss and
go to every church function and get amazing grades and find a
"grown-up" boyfriend and not show my stomach and not go clubbing and not
dance with people and sit around with them while they ignore me and
never disagree with them.
However, their rigid disapproval of my (MY MY MY MY MY, dammit ) decisions sparks an automatic desire to go streaking in the
opposite direction. That's my initial reaction to confinement. It makes me just want to have
sex with PC and only hang out with "bad" friends and cuss and skip
church and screw school and get tattoos and more piercings and go back to labeling myself as "dating" PC and wear sleazy clothing and club every weekend
and grind my body on boys and completely cut my family out of my life.
But the thing is, I don't REALLY want those things! All I want is to not
have to hide the fact that PC and I still sit close together sometimes
and his touch doesn't make my skin crawl. I want to be able to choose my
own friends--some "good" and some "bad"--and stay the same
strong-principled individual I know I am. I want to use cuss words when I
want to, which means sparingly when furious or for comedic effect. I
want to go to the church functions that I connect with. I want to do my
best in school and not feel judged when I decide to let question 26 D go
for now. I want the freedom to date whoever the fuck I want, and if
that ends up being PC again, I'll have good reason, so respect my
decision, please. I want to wear clothes that, within reason, fit the
event I'm attending. I want to go clubbing and dance with people and not
believe that that means I'm going to Hell. I want to feel free from the
crushing, priggish, pedantic, discouraging, conditional
oversight of my family.
I know they want what's best for me, and I know they're most likely
right. But if that's the case, and they truly believe that, then BACK
OFF AND LET ME FIGURE IT OUT FOR MYSELF.
I know things will be different when I'm a parent, but I like to think I won't handle my kids like this.
On the bright side, Monya says she doesn't think I'm crazy or actually
depressed. I expected to feel relieved and validated if I heard that.
Instead, I feel lost and disappointed.
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