Tales From the Dark Side

I don't know why I can't let it go. I almost feel like I am living a lie now. That I really don't have a headache, that I am just depressed and digging myself deeper and deeper into the lie. But I am not lying. I am in pain. I am getting better at ignoring it, keeping myself preoccupied enough that I don't notice it. But its always there... pounding, pressing, squeezing inside my brain. Sitting behind my eyes, making the images shimmer and wave. Making me tired, and dizzy and frustrated. There are so many things I want to do that I just don't have the enegy for. I want to walk, an bike and run. I want to train for something. I want to write without it being a task. I don't want to be on the medication anymore. It doesn't work. It never has. I am living a ginormous lie. Making myself believe that the meds work, that I am getting better, that it will be ok. For over 2 years I have been living like this. But really its been much longer than that. There has always been pain in my head. I just didn't acknowledge it unless it got really bad. How long is long enough? I don't want to be in pain anymore.

Its like being in a house filled with egg-shells, one wrong word and an explosion will occur. its frustrating and annoying at the same time. Luckily the anger sin't immediately directed at me... its DAD that is the problem... dad posted on his Facebook, Dad responded to texts on his phone, dad, who tore apart his room looking for contraband... found a cigarette, and fruit. Dad is the bad guy, I am just not allowed to exist. not allowed to love him, not worthy of his love. Its sad that he feels that way.
I am not sure how I feel about that. I think its more pity, I feel bad for him that he doesn't find himself worthy. I am not sure how to help him with that, or if he would even accept my help.

Me.. I'm still in pain. I am doing my best to stop tensing my neck and jaw. I am grateful for the relief the medication brings - and I am reluctant to take it... I forgot to ask for a refill today. That scares me just a little.

My heart aches for him. And I hope Rob can find away to talk about it. He is holding everything in.

Thanks to a teenager I finally know terror.
When he rages and punches walls - the fridge - however he lashes out - I tremble... i go into self-reservation mode. The adrenaline courses through me and I see black - I lash out to protect myself.

He is angry because he got himself grounded. Drug use... never good. He made a mess in the kitchen and was asked to clean it up... he used a cloth on the glass stove top - even though they have been asked / told not to (its not good for it) and was told to redo it properly... while i was watching... when i corrected him he lost it... through the paper towel and punched the fridge... i lost it too... i pushed him and i think my intention was to keep pushing him up stairs... but it turned into a full arm punch - from elbow to hand across his back and shoulder... he then tried to walk out the door... i had to stand up to him - my voice full volume... all the while shaking like a fucking leaf - terrified he was going to punch me - or the wall behind me. He's so much bigger than me, its scary.

I have told Rob that I am afraid of him. I hate to say it, but its true. He will lose control one day. He will. I already told Rob I would call the police on him.

He said some horrible things... like I don't deserve to be a parent, that I don't know how to be one. I know he was angry and to be honest, I really don't give a shit. He can't say anything to me that I haven't already said to myself. I told him it didn't matter what he said, that I loved him anyway... and he asked why, why do I love him. He's a good kid. He's kind, compassionate, hard-working, funny, adorable, great smile. What's not to love - oh yeah THE VIOLENT RAGE!

I had to tell him that I was terrified of him. That he scares the crap out of me. And that hitting the wall/fridge/whatever is a form of intimidation, and abuse. He needs to learn to say that he's angry before it becomes physical and give himself a timeout. I also said it is NEVER ok to hit/punch a wall/table/fridge/person. It is unacceptable behaviour all the time...

The adrenaline is finally wearing off... my head is hurting again, and i'm not shaking as much.

Funny - he asked me if I knew anything about the human brain - the way people work... Yeah, i fucking now. I know more about psychology than that child does.

I hate being scared. It makes me feel like a child. Like nothing is in my control, that I am insignificant and alone, and that I am a victim... always going to be victimized by everyone around me. It makes me feel crazy, and weak, and frightened.

Today sucks. Today I hate my life. Today I want to hide and be invisible. Today I want to die. I am embarrassed of my behavior. I feel like I have failed Rob and I have failed as a "parent" (whatever the fuck that is).
Help me..