So I finally snapped.
Raise your hand if you're surprised.
I was doing my best to remain calm and collected... to take deep breaths each time someone in the house said something to outrage me... but I finally couldn't handle it and blew up this afternoon.
Who was the lucky winner to finally push me over the ledge? My sister. Naturally.
Everything was fine at first, I had been busy getting ready for the day's events. We had planned to visit the Acropolis museum and then stroll the premises. Then I began noticing everyone taking their time... just chillin... not making an effort to get ready. By three, I had given up hope of making it to the museum, so I went ahead and did my own thing... I sat down and played games on my phone... you know, to keep calm and not scream at everyone my discontent for their fucking lackadaisical attitude.
Then the girls had the idea to go out for gyros. Dad decided he didn't want to go, so I stayed behind to keep him company. I told the girls what I wanted, and they left around 4:15.
Everything was fine.
They returned at about 5, and we all sat down to eat.
I bit into my gyro... and bit again... potato. I bit again. More potato. I bit again. Lots of potatoes and a tomato.
I opened the gyro and looked inside. What was supposed to be protein was just pure fucking potatoes.
And I angrily commented about what kind of fucking asshole dipshit would prepare a POTATO gyro. A MOTHERFUCKING POTATO GYRO! POTATO!
(I actually said "Who the fuck would prepare a potato gyro!?" none of this bold, all caps "POTATO!" business I just did due to the rage I felt just remembering the ordeal [I fucking hate potatoes to begin with, so this only made my blood boil worse])
So I stopped eating and set it aside.
This made my sister tell me I was overreacting and that I just needed to shut the fuck up-- that it wasn't their fault.
"I KNOW it isn't your fault. I KNOW it was the idiot fucking chef. I'm not angry at ANY of you. I'm just angry someone could be that fucking stupid... and when I get angry, I lose my appetite. So I'm angry a fucking idiot made me angry to the point where I lose my appetite, when I was hungry before sitting down for lunch."
And then we have Clemson trying to "solve" the problem by suggesting things I could do, like trading gyros etc. Completely ignoring my statement about me losing my appetite when I get angry.
Then my sister says "WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING EAT ALREADY?!"
And this pisses me off. It. Makes. Me. Tick.
BOOM.
***
Last night my brother was going to the airport to drop off the van we had rented for the weekend (we went on some fun road trips to Delfi, Sumio, and ending it all with Meteora, which was absolutely gorgeous and had me in a wonderful, blissful, calm mood), and asked me to join him since he used my credit card to pay for the van.
From there, Clemson added herself, because she thought Bro was going to travel alone (he was going to do the 50 minute treck back to the house on metro/foot). Then Pacemaker added herself to the trip because she wanted to get out of the house.
Sister had added herself, since she didn't want to be alone in the house.
My brother was surprised by the fact that we all wanted to make the mediocre, boring airport trip with him, and he commented that we didn't HAVE to go on this boring trip.
My sister went crazy on him and flipped. She screamed, cried, and locked herself in her room. All because she misunderstood my brother's comment.
"You only told ME I COULDN'T GO!"
That sort of shit.
Clemson, Bro, Pacemaker, Mom, and I tried calming her down and begged her to join us on this stupid trip... but she was her typical melodramatic self-- refusing to acknowledge us... pouting while her earbuds were in, as she stared at some Sons of Anarchy episode on her iPad.
This soured ALL of our day.
***
Me: Hey, *Sister*, why didn't you come outside without us last night?!
Sister: Because you guys were fucking assholes to me!
BOOM!
Me: WE were fucking assholes?!
::I point at everyone at the table-- Mom, Clemson, Pacemaker, me::
Me: WE WERE FUCKING ASSHOLES?! FUCK. YOU! We BEGGED you to join us. EACH ONE OF US. YOU WERE THE FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU'VE BEEN THE ONLY FUCKING ASSHOLE HERE FROM THE MOMENT YOU GOT HERE!
My mom gets angry, tells ME to shut up. Pacemaker leaves the room. Clemson keeps eating at the table.
I sit between Clemson and Sister... feeling my chest heave heavier with each breath I take... losing my ability to keep my chin from quivering, and my eyes from watering.
I can feel my sister sit next to me, feeling victorious. Feeling validated. Feeling CORRECT. Feeling like the winner.
Only thing running through my mind is that once again, I'm forced to shut my mouth, when in my fucking heart, I KNOW I'm right... I KNOW SHE has been the fucking asshole. Angry because I once again have to remain quiet about MY feelings and MY thoughts. MY feelings and thoughts are useless... to be kept silent, because they stir the status quo... because I step up to the little bitch who has ALWAYS thought she runs the show.
I fucking lose it.
Incredibly hot tears streak down both my eyes and I turn to her. I look her in the face, and in a whisper, I very angrily growl (as though I were possessed, which one could argue I was) "YOU WANT ME TO BE AN ASSHOLE? BECAUSE I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT A FUCKING ASSHOLE I CAN BE! I CAN BE THE WORST FUCKING ASSHOLE YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN. I WILL RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIFE. I'M FUCKING SICK OF YOU RUINING MY TIME. I'M SICK OF YOU DISRESPECTING ME IN FRONT OF OTHERS LIKE THIS. I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT NICE AND CALM WITH YOU. HAVING EVERYONE LICK YOUR FUCKING ASS YESTERDAY TRYING TO GET YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE. THAT'S ME BEING AN ASSHOLE?!"
I angrily stand up, staring down at my sister, clenching my fists.
Mom: ANOMALIE! NO YOU WON'T! SHUT UP! SIT DOWN! GET AWAY!
Mom seriously spoke English.
Me: I AM CALM. I AM TRYING TO SOLVE A PROBLEM. I AM NOT SCREAMING... IT IS TAKING EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO SCREAM IN HER FACE LIKE SHE SCREAMS IN MINE. I am talking it out. I am letting her know it bothers me. I am letting her know I am fed up. HOLDING IT IN, like you want me to do, is what caused this scene in the first place. You're telling me she can disrespect and pout and throw tantrums... making us all feel bad.. but the moment SHE feels hurt and insulted I need to shut the fuck up? NO.
Mom: SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP!
Me: SHE JUST KNOWS WHEN TO DO IT. WHEN TO PISS ME OFF. WHEN TO SAY SHIT. WHEN THERE'S OTHER PEOPLE PRESENT, SO SHE GETS AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE SHE KNOWS I CAN'T DO SHIT IN FRONT OF OTHERS. KNOWS IF THEY WEREN'T HERE, I'D RIP HER FUCKING HEAD OFF.
Tears are streaming down my face, even my nose is running. I am breathing heavier than I do when I run sprints.
Clemson was no longer in the room.
Mom starts giving us some irrelevant speech about having to love our family etc etc, but I am too angry to give a shit. She does this all the time-- missing the point of an argument.
I continue making my argument of "Why can SHE insult us and act a fool, but I can't tell her to shut the fuck up when she's being an asshole," with the reasoning being "because she's your baby sister."
Somehow Sister leaves the room, and I stand at the corner, by the washing machine that is still running, and proceed to calm my breathing-- all to no avail. My body, for the first time I can recall, begins to shake uncontrollably-- my core, my arms, and my legs. I have to stand there and concentrate on staying steady so that I won't collapse.
I have never reached that level of rage, I have never been so pissed I actually shake... "trembling with rage" used to just be a figure of speech.
What happens next? I'm left to be alone in the kitchen, being held up by the washing machine, trembling uncontrollably, while the rest of the house--naturally-- goes and calms down the melodramatic queen that is my baby sister.
She's a sea of tears and sobs on her bed... I'm a silent, shaking beast alone in a corner of the house.
I was a monster. Of course. Is there any other way?
I mean, big ol' mean me... growling, sniveling at this baby sister, baby sister I can easily hurt with just the bump of my hip. Telling her mean shit no one really ever tells anyone... even enemies-- the motherfucking truth.
I am a monster because I spoke the truth... because I refused to "shut up" and allow someone to insult me one too many times.
I TRY to be nice and calm and kind... I FIGHT the impulse to slap and punch and kick the fucking shit out of those who insult me... and I do a motherfucking awesome job at it, considering HOW MANY TIMES and HOW MANY PEOPLE insult me.
They see me sit quietly when they bulldoze over me with their insults/mistreatment. They gain this false sense of security, thinking I'm all talk... a cowardly lion... but the moment I finally reach my boiling point, "PUT HER DOWN! SHE'S DANGEROUS!"
No fucking shit. No motherfucking shit.
People don't give me enough credit when it comes to how well I manage to keep myself calm and collected rather than give in to my natural instinct of just wrecking shit--physically and verbally. They feel this need to constantly poke at me, completely skeptical of my warnings and please to not enrage me... but they just keep pressing to see if this supposed monster inside really does lash out, if it really exists... just push, push, push, stomp, stomp, stomp, insult, insult, insult... and when I finally do show them the horrible side (AT THEIR INSISTENCE), I'm shunned and reprimanded.
I'm calm now. It took me about four hours to chill out... about two hours to actually stop trembling. About an hour to actually stop giving a shit about having to calm MYSELF down, alone in a room next to a rowdy, old washing machine... everyone scared of me, thinking I'm such a horrible human (which I am).
Everyone's out drinking at the bar now. I'm home, watching some Italian crime drama with my parents, typing this up.
Life's motherfucking great.
Raise your hand if you're surprised.
I was doing my best to remain calm and collected... to take deep breaths each time someone in the house said something to outrage me... but I finally couldn't handle it and blew up this afternoon.
Who was the lucky winner to finally push me over the ledge? My sister. Naturally.
Everything was fine at first, I had been busy getting ready for the day's events. We had planned to visit the Acropolis museum and then stroll the premises. Then I began noticing everyone taking their time... just chillin... not making an effort to get ready. By three, I had given up hope of making it to the museum, so I went ahead and did my own thing... I sat down and played games on my phone... you know, to keep calm and not scream at everyone my discontent for their fucking lackadaisical attitude.
Then the girls had the idea to go out for gyros. Dad decided he didn't want to go, so I stayed behind to keep him company. I told the girls what I wanted, and they left around 4:15.
Everything was fine.
They returned at about 5, and we all sat down to eat.
I bit into my gyro... and bit again... potato. I bit again. More potato. I bit again. Lots of potatoes and a tomato.
I opened the gyro and looked inside. What was supposed to be protein was just pure fucking potatoes.
And I angrily commented about what kind of fucking asshole dipshit would prepare a POTATO gyro. A MOTHERFUCKING POTATO GYRO! POTATO!
(I actually said "Who the fuck would prepare a potato gyro!?" none of this bold, all caps "POTATO!" business I just did due to the rage I felt just remembering the ordeal [I fucking hate potatoes to begin with, so this only made my blood boil worse])
So I stopped eating and set it aside.
This made my sister tell me I was overreacting and that I just needed to shut the fuck up-- that it wasn't their fault.
"I KNOW it isn't your fault. I KNOW it was the idiot fucking chef. I'm not angry at ANY of you. I'm just angry someone could be that fucking stupid... and when I get angry, I lose my appetite. So I'm angry a fucking idiot made me angry to the point where I lose my appetite, when I was hungry before sitting down for lunch."
And then we have Clemson trying to "solve" the problem by suggesting things I could do, like trading gyros etc. Completely ignoring my statement about me losing my appetite when I get angry.
Then my sister says "WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING EAT ALREADY?!"
And this pisses me off. It. Makes. Me. Tick.
BOOM.
***
Last night my brother was going to the airport to drop off the van we had rented for the weekend (we went on some fun road trips to Delfi, Sumio, and ending it all with Meteora, which was absolutely gorgeous and had me in a wonderful, blissful, calm mood), and asked me to join him since he used my credit card to pay for the van.
From there, Clemson added herself, because she thought Bro was going to travel alone (he was going to do the 50 minute treck back to the house on metro/foot). Then Pacemaker added herself to the trip because she wanted to get out of the house.
Sister had added herself, since she didn't want to be alone in the house.
My brother was surprised by the fact that we all wanted to make the mediocre, boring airport trip with him, and he commented that we didn't HAVE to go on this boring trip.
My sister went crazy on him and flipped. She screamed, cried, and locked herself in her room. All because she misunderstood my brother's comment.
"You only told ME I COULDN'T GO!"
That sort of shit.
Clemson, Bro, Pacemaker, Mom, and I tried calming her down and begged her to join us on this stupid trip... but she was her typical melodramatic self-- refusing to acknowledge us... pouting while her earbuds were in, as she stared at some Sons of Anarchy episode on her iPad.
This soured ALL of our day.
***
Me: Hey, *Sister*, why didn't you come outside without us last night?!
Sister: Because you guys were fucking assholes to me!
BOOM!
Me: WE were fucking assholes?!
::I point at everyone at the table-- Mom, Clemson, Pacemaker, me::
Me: WE WERE FUCKING ASSHOLES?! FUCK. YOU! We BEGGED you to join us. EACH ONE OF US. YOU WERE THE FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU'VE BEEN THE ONLY FUCKING ASSHOLE HERE FROM THE MOMENT YOU GOT HERE!
My mom gets angry, tells ME to shut up. Pacemaker leaves the room. Clemson keeps eating at the table.
I sit between Clemson and Sister... feeling my chest heave heavier with each breath I take... losing my ability to keep my chin from quivering, and my eyes from watering.
I can feel my sister sit next to me, feeling victorious. Feeling validated. Feeling CORRECT. Feeling like the winner.
Only thing running through my mind is that once again, I'm forced to shut my mouth, when in my fucking heart, I KNOW I'm right... I KNOW SHE has been the fucking asshole. Angry because I once again have to remain quiet about MY feelings and MY thoughts. MY feelings and thoughts are useless... to be kept silent, because they stir the status quo... because I step up to the little bitch who has ALWAYS thought she runs the show.
I fucking lose it.
Incredibly hot tears streak down both my eyes and I turn to her. I look her in the face, and in a whisper, I very angrily growl (as though I were possessed, which one could argue I was) "YOU WANT ME TO BE AN ASSHOLE? BECAUSE I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT A FUCKING ASSHOLE I CAN BE! I CAN BE THE WORST FUCKING ASSHOLE YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN. I WILL RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIFE. I'M FUCKING SICK OF YOU RUINING MY TIME. I'M SICK OF YOU DISRESPECTING ME IN FRONT OF OTHERS LIKE THIS. I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT NICE AND CALM WITH YOU. HAVING EVERYONE LICK YOUR FUCKING ASS YESTERDAY TRYING TO GET YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE. THAT'S ME BEING AN ASSHOLE?!"
I angrily stand up, staring down at my sister, clenching my fists.
Mom: ANOMALIE! NO YOU WON'T! SHUT UP! SIT DOWN! GET AWAY!
Mom seriously spoke English.
Me: I AM CALM. I AM TRYING TO SOLVE A PROBLEM. I AM NOT SCREAMING... IT IS TAKING EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO SCREAM IN HER FACE LIKE SHE SCREAMS IN MINE. I am talking it out. I am letting her know it bothers me. I am letting her know I am fed up. HOLDING IT IN, like you want me to do, is what caused this scene in the first place. You're telling me she can disrespect and pout and throw tantrums... making us all feel bad.. but the moment SHE feels hurt and insulted I need to shut the fuck up? NO.
Mom: SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP!
Me: SHE JUST KNOWS WHEN TO DO IT. WHEN TO PISS ME OFF. WHEN TO SAY SHIT. WHEN THERE'S OTHER PEOPLE PRESENT, SO SHE GETS AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE SHE KNOWS I CAN'T DO SHIT IN FRONT OF OTHERS. KNOWS IF THEY WEREN'T HERE, I'D RIP HER FUCKING HEAD OFF.
Tears are streaming down my face, even my nose is running. I am breathing heavier than I do when I run sprints.
Clemson was no longer in the room.
Mom starts giving us some irrelevant speech about having to love our family etc etc, but I am too angry to give a shit. She does this all the time-- missing the point of an argument.
I continue making my argument of "Why can SHE insult us and act a fool, but I can't tell her to shut the fuck up when she's being an asshole," with the reasoning being "because she's your baby sister."
Somehow Sister leaves the room, and I stand at the corner, by the washing machine that is still running, and proceed to calm my breathing-- all to no avail. My body, for the first time I can recall, begins to shake uncontrollably-- my core, my arms, and my legs. I have to stand there and concentrate on staying steady so that I won't collapse.
I have never reached that level of rage, I have never been so pissed I actually shake... "trembling with rage" used to just be a figure of speech.
What happens next? I'm left to be alone in the kitchen, being held up by the washing machine, trembling uncontrollably, while the rest of the house--naturally-- goes and calms down the melodramatic queen that is my baby sister.
She's a sea of tears and sobs on her bed... I'm a silent, shaking beast alone in a corner of the house.
I was a monster. Of course. Is there any other way?
I mean, big ol' mean me... growling, sniveling at this baby sister, baby sister I can easily hurt with just the bump of my hip. Telling her mean shit no one really ever tells anyone... even enemies-- the motherfucking truth.
I am a monster because I spoke the truth... because I refused to "shut up" and allow someone to insult me one too many times.
I TRY to be nice and calm and kind... I FIGHT the impulse to slap and punch and kick the fucking shit out of those who insult me... and I do a motherfucking awesome job at it, considering HOW MANY TIMES and HOW MANY PEOPLE insult me.
They see me sit quietly when they bulldoze over me with their insults/mistreatment. They gain this false sense of security, thinking I'm all talk... a cowardly lion... but the moment I finally reach my boiling point, "PUT HER DOWN! SHE'S DANGEROUS!"
No fucking shit. No motherfucking shit.
People don't give me enough credit when it comes to how well I manage to keep myself calm and collected rather than give in to my natural instinct of just wrecking shit--physically and verbally. They feel this need to constantly poke at me, completely skeptical of my warnings and please to not enrage me... but they just keep pressing to see if this supposed monster inside really does lash out, if it really exists... just push, push, push, stomp, stomp, stomp, insult, insult, insult... and when I finally do show them the horrible side (AT THEIR INSISTENCE), I'm shunned and reprimanded.
I'm calm now. It took me about four hours to chill out... about two hours to actually stop trembling. About an hour to actually stop giving a shit about having to calm MYSELF down, alone in a room next to a rowdy, old washing machine... everyone scared of me, thinking I'm such a horrible human (which I am).
Everyone's out drinking at the bar now. I'm home, watching some Italian crime drama with my parents, typing this up.
Life's motherfucking great.
No comments:
Post a Comment