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Hi, I don't really do this, in fact-if you know me you know I hate having to do this, but I need to be able to talk about it so here goes.

First off, my mom is not a bad person, I could have it a LOT worse, and I know this and I hate bitching about her and know she's under stress. Yes, she's under stress-she can't make ends meet half the time and the computer's still on and the cable's still on and I don't know how she's doing it and I just got off disability and soon she won't have that money and I get it, she's under stress.

What I don't get is why I'm her stress ball.

Every one else she talks to gets these pleasantries and kindness and stuff and she just oozes joy, but I'm not given that. If I do anything wrong it's treated like a full scale war, and she if I do anything right it's not acknowledged.

I can't talk to her. My mom is incredibly scary, it's her way or no way at all.An add opposing gun violence came on T.V once and she agreed, I said that I could see them being useful and she launched into a two hour tirade against me. Whenever I'm doing something it's seen as not important-and I don't mean like, it's not important because of this thing, I mean it's not important because of ANY/EVERYTHING. She thinks of things for me to do on the fly to keep me away from something. If I don't automatically do what's asked of me she'll either start complaining or yelling, or worse-Guilt tripping (I only asked you to do such and such and you're so into that box that you can't even help me out). She waltzs into the house and changes the chanell on the T.V. even if I'm watching something, sets me off to do dishes even the ones I'm currently using-ect

I am not allowed to do anything about it. If I try avoiding her, she notices. If I show emotion (eg-a sigh, a facial twitch) she launches a witch hunt about how if I'm big and bad enough to roll my eyes I'm bad enough to fight.She yells at me in front of my friends, and when I left the area to avoid crying she FOLLOWED me to yell at me for leaving guests unattended.

She's never home. I'm not a very social person, and she's NEVER home. Even with money issues, she finds enough to go to parties and stuff like that. I'm glad she's happy, but she's NEVER home. When she is home she locks herself in a room all day. Worse, she orders me around all day. I miss her hard enough for there to be a hallow ache inside of me. Three minutes after she gets home I'm counting down the second until she leaves. I'm walking on eggshells whenever she's AROUND, even if she's sleeping. I feel like I can't breathe too hard lest I cause Wold War 3-I can't even breathe right. A lump settles in my throat whenever she's too close. I don't talk to her about my issues and I can't just... She also acts like my interest don't matter. If she hears me typing she'll tell me to go to bed. She hates cartoons and sneers when she sees me watching them. She hates this website, because I spend time on it. She hates the bands I like, and I think it's just on principle that I like them.

I love my mother, do not get me wrong. The above is just her. I've lived with her for 19 years now and I can deal. Lots of Television, lots of computer, read lots of books, day dream. I can handle it. I can handle sometimes not seeing her for days or not talking for weeks because our schedules are out of alignment. I can deal with being in safe loneliness counting down the seconds until she's home with hopeful trepidation. She tries, she does-My Sweet 16 was magical. She went to the city and even to Connecticut to get me the perfect prom dress-it took four months of looking because she wanted me to be happy with it. She supports my crazy diet plans and stocks the house with special K when I ask for it, she sends me text messages sometimes if she hasn't spoken to me for awhile. She surprised me, one day I came home and there was Nuttella on the counter waiting for me.I have a good mom, I could have a LOT worse. She deals with me, she deals with my A.D.H.D. She deals with my low self esteem, she dealt with med. problems in my first year of life, and even took time off when she couldn't afford it to stay with me when I was in the hospital late last year. She's just stressed and I know that.

Recently it's been...I think it's me, I don't think she's acting any different-or maybe she is-but I really need people. My friends (Save one) have given up on this issue. They say she's crazy or a demon, but she's not. I don't do my chores and she gets mad, she wishes I were more social. I'm kind of a hermit and I bite my nails until they bleed. She worries about me I guess. I'ts just been lately. I can't even do this of Facebook, where all my IRL friends are, though their advice probably wouldn't be any good, because she's my friend there.

We were watching a cop show and one of the girls was a drug addict with A.D.D. The mother came on to say how they had given their daughter the drugs prescribed by their doctors. Instantly my mom launched into a rant about how their daughter being on drugs was their fault because they hadn't let her deal with her own natural mind. What hurt was when I started talking to myself softly a while later (Who better to listen) She thought it would be a good idea to tease me with it. "What, do you want some coke now too? Maybe that's what you need some meth". This is why I think I'm the problem. She always makes jokes like this. They always hurt, but this one dug. She makes funny faces while she teases so you laugh along with her, but they tend to hurt. If I tell her the joke is cruel, she tells me that she was only joking and to suck it up. It' s not just me these jokes are for. When watching T.V. she makes fun of people's accents, the style of dress, their hair everything. When I emulate her with a cruel joke, she teats me like I've done the ultimate evil.

I just got a new therapist. I like her, she's so easy to talk to, but I've been rambling to her. I'm not sure if I can do my mom. Just getting stuff out on a keyboard is almost making me shake and cry but I can't because she's in the next room 'sleeping'. She mentioned that I'm too detached. I worry her. I just met her and I WORRY her. Why? Because I told her that I'd rather deal with women then men, that although woman are more malicious, I would rather stare at the fake smile in my face while you stab me in the back, than the confrontation of being dealt with head on. I worry her, because I got mad at myself for writing a poem about heartbreak-for letting another person affect me to the point I felt something for them after they were done with me. I TERRIFY her after I told her that I was able to sever all ties with a once best friend overnight without even anger at what she had done to me or them even being a fleeting thought in my mind. Apparently, normal people shouldn't be able to do this. Apparently, normal people would feel a shred of something when they pass by an area that hold a large amount of memories or when confronted by the problem.

I Feel Nothing.

My friend, the one I mentioned-that hasn't given up on the situation, she's a therapist in training. She says I'm possibly Para-suicidal. What does that mean? It means that sub unconscious, I can't take it anymore. It is why I'm a binge eater, it is why I seclude myself, it is why I eat stuff I know isn't healthy, it is why my diets consist of less than 500 calories a day for months at a time, it is PROBABLY why I've bitten my nails past the nail bed and to bleeding more times than I can count. I don't know how to do this. If she takes away my internet and T.V. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I don't want to kill myself. I want to not exist. Killing myself involves people crying at a funeral and 'what are we gonna do with the body' and even though she's not getting anymore money from my being alive-mom might notice the dishes aren't done and go to yell at someone that's not there. I just want to not exist, because that's already what it feels like. If I kill myself, I will do it in the biggest, showiest way possible. Or quietly knowing there is at least ONE person out there who will notice if I am gone. I feel like noting. If I were to vanish of the face of the earth, no one would blink twice to notice I were gone.

I had a daydream the other day. I volunteered myself as a blood slave to a vampire coven. My only demands? Pretend you care about me.

If anyone is bored enough to read this, could you at least pretend to care long enough to type out '*hugs*'. I need all of them I can get.