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"How can I be lost
If I've got nowhere to go?
Search for seas of gold
How come it's got so cold?
How can I be lost
In remembrance I relive
And how can I blame you
When it's me I can't forgive?" - James Hetfield

As I write this I'm coming off of a day that wasn't as bad as many of the past few have been, and yet I've got a pounding headache and bruise on the side of my head. Why do I have a bruise on the side of my head, you ask? Because I'm almost positive I'm a horrible person, and as such I deserved it. It was a night like many other, Saturday night, my mother is in a mood and wants to "go home," in spite of the fact she's in her home. She can't be convinced she's in her own home and she's rotating between pulling on every door she can find trying to break out of the house, and walking up to me while I'm in the kitchen to accuse me of all sorts of things and just generally tell me what a worthless piece of sh*t I am. It doesn't phase me, but I'm coming off of several down days, several days where I've needed time to myself to focus on myself, but not had the time to do that. Several days of not getting to bed until 3:30 and then having to wake up at 6:30 for her. Several days of quite literally crying myself to sleep because I have no outlet for the pent up emotions, the pent up loneliness, the pent up solitude. So she continues her tirade, scared and confused, but determined to have her say so that everyone knows they're wrong. We've done this many times before, she just needs to get it out and then a little Cliff Richard on the television and she's fine. But not tonight. Tonight I'm so close to the edge I can't stand her near me. Tonight I'm so certain if she pushes me I'm going over that edge and who would care? No one. My father, because he'd then have to step up and watch her, interfering with his work schedule. Tonight, this particular Saturday night, I'm one wrong word away from snapping. Leave me alone, get away from me, I can't do this right now. Please. I'm begging you, go and sit down and I'll come and sit with you in 15 minutes, just leave me alone. I haven't eaten anything, I'm trying to make some supper and stop a blood sugar crash, give me space. But no. She persists, she goes to the doors again, then comes right back to get in my face and tell me how worthless I am. I know I am. I'm not an idiot. But leave me alone. No. She's in my face. Why can't she see I'm suffering? Even a child would recognize when a person is suffering, but she can't. I snapped. I get in her face, leaned down so I was eye to eye with her and I screamed at her to get away from me and leave me alone. I don't do that. I never do that. I even scared myself with how loud I was. I felt great shame at having done it, and she immediately teared up. She started walking away, then she grabbed a plastic cup full of water that was sitting there, and she's thrown water at me before, so whatever, I didn't care, let her throw water at me. No...she threw the cup at me, not just the water. She threw the whole cup right at my head. Hit me in the temple, splitting the cup in two and still soaking me.

I do nothing. I pull my glasses off and put them on the counter, then use my shirt to try and dry my face and head. She's inconsolable now, and my sister heard her screaming, so she's come downstairs to see what was wrong. She consoles my mother, takes her out into the back garden and wants nothing to do with me. I don't blame her, I want nothing to do with me. I'm still shaky from not eating, so I finish making my food and I retreat to my office. I feel so horrible I can't even eat what I made, so I let myself slip into low blood sugar territory. Then lower. Then lower. Soon I recognize that I'm about to hit crisis point if I don't do something, and the last thing I want is my family having to call an ambulance because I've had another diabetic seizure, I don't deserve attention, so eventually I give in and eat. It takes a while, but my sugars come back. I hate myself even more for bringing myself back, I should have just let the seizure happen and hoped they didn't find me, just left me there. No. I ate. I relented. Coward. You don't deserve to feel ok. You yelled at her. F*ck you, she was right about you, you're just a piece of sh*t.

Fortunately it's been 10, 15, 20 minutes outside and she's forgotten it happened, she's laughing and joking with my sister now and she's alright again. I hear them laughing from my office and I'm relieved. She's happy again, she's going to be ok. I'm not. My head hurts, but I deserve that, my heart hurts the worst. I did that. I caused her to be upset. I pushed her over the edge. I made her hurt me. I can't shake the thought that I'm supposed to be a good person, supposed to look after her in times of trouble. You pushed it, you're an idiot.

Two long days. I tell no one, she's perfectly fine the next morning, happy to see me and happy to spend the day as always, but I'm internalizing it all. I'm trying to be happier online, try to get past it. I can't. I'm a horrible person. I want to talk to someone about it, people ask me if I'm ok, I'm clearly not acting like myself. So what do I do? The only thing I can think of...I post this. Maybe this helps me get past it? Maybe this is what I need to realize I'm just a monster and I need to stop pretending I'm some decent person? I don't know...I hate that this happened, I want to go back in time and make it not happen, she doesn't need that, no matter what's going on with me. I'm a terrible person and all I've done is confirm that. I'm sorry...I'm sorry.

-A Monster.
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