i'm not shit. as much as i would like to be.

A cop came to my house last night. My parents were trying to scare me. I think it's interesting how certain events play out in our lives. Yesterday I was crying, asking my savior why all of these terrible things were happening to me when I've done my part; when I've taken accountability for my faults, when I've tried to put my past behind me. My parents didn't trust me, they didn't believe me, they didn't love me. And yet here I stood in my home almost lifeless, watching them go out of their way for my siblings. Doing their homework with them, throwing multiple going away parties, playing with their hair, laughing over problems, etc. I don't understand. I didn't understand.

I'm not stupid.
I'm not ungrateful.
I'm just tired.

Last night I told my dad I was going to cut my wrists. Granted I was being dramatic as hell, and pissed out of my mind, but when the words left my mouth.. he laughed. He laughed. The tips of his mouth curled up and he bore his crooked teeth, even squinting his eyes a little. I want to hate him so much.
I'm not ignorant. I know I'm a pain in the ass. I really do. And I honestly try not to be. But there are somethings you forgive, but don't forget. I obviously have a lot to work on. I'm still young. I'm still very stubborn, I'm still trying to get mine, but I'm no bitch. Not on purpose anyway. They called the cops to scare me. They called for them to take me away as a punishment. As a consequence for my behavior. But when authority came, they didn't expect what played out. They didn't see it coming. I sure as hell didn't see it coming.. When the man in uniform stepped into the room and told me I wasn't an idiot I couldn't help but cry. I hate it when I do that. Only in front of people though. I hate it when I cry. I hate that I let myself get so hurt. That regardless of all the walls I've built up, I can still get shot down in a matter of minutes.

"you're going to do fine, I don't doubt that. you're better than all of this."

I love my family. I get a little sad when I say that, but I do. I'm not going to sit here and give the "woe is me" shit, because I don't' believe in that.
I don't have the best self-esteem, and I'm not as nice as I used to be to people.
I don't believe in myself and I have a lot of anxiety. And as much as I would love to say that it's all my parents fault that I'm such a mess, I can't.
I've always been a very self aware person, almost to a fault, so I don't like making excuses because I know how stupid I sound even before the words come out of my mouth.
I kind of hate that my self esteem was raised by a cop ironically called upon to discipline me. I hate that I have to be told constantly to be the adult when I get into fights with my parents. I hate that I've given up so many opportunities because of my family. And I hate that the only thing that keeps me going is a future that's so incredibly far away.

I wish I could sit here and say I was hopeful.. I wish I could be strong when it came down to dealing with my family. I wish I was stronger in my religion. In my faith to a greater power, and my faith in myself. But the reality is, I'm just going through the motions. I'm sitting here watching my divorced parents share hot chocolate. I'm sitting here watching my privileged siblings get praised for being assholes. And I'm sitting here having cops tell me I live in a shit hole, but that doesn't make me shit. I hate writing it down almost as much as I hate saying it out loud. But I'm feeling it again. The feeling that comes with going through the motions. The feeling that comes with disconnecting yourself emotionally. The numbness:

-There's a goose egg on my forehead.
-There's a trail of scratches on my arm.
-There's a grant with my name on it.
-There's an acceptance letter that feels like a trap.
-There's a band I want to hear play.
-There's a boy who I want to text.
Ha, even after all this shit I can still manage to think about boys.
 Holy shit, what the hell is my problem?