Saturday. Like every other day, I guess. Another day for me to sit in bed and wait out the next five minutes pondering if I should get up or not. I mean, what's the point, really? It just another six hours of nothing, another day of nothing, all amounting to a year of...nothing. Yeah, I don't see why I should get up.
But I do, because I have to.
"Good afternoon" I hear my mother chirp sarcastically. Afternoon? Oh, right, the clock says 3PM. She continues on about how I'm to be jobless, how will I support myself unemployed, when will I get a family for her, when will I have grandchildren for her...yeah, how about this, you understand your worries, I'll understand mine, and we'll get along swell, right? I just tune her out, only answering the few questions that actually amount to any importance.
Back to my room, I go. Or as they call it, the "mancave". I don't see why or how it's a mancave, I literally sleep, work, and eat here, there is no entertainment even for this to be considered a cave.
The dog is on my bed, staring at me. I watch it worm itself over onto my lap as I type away at my blog, I click here and there, changing songs and installing plugins.
"By the way, they're coming to visit".
For ♥♥♥♥'s sake....I can't get a single day away from my sister and my nephew anymore. I'm sure she gets lonely, yeah, she lives alone in a rented apartment on a street where drugs and crime are not common, but not rare. I'd be lonely too. Visiting six times a week, though, is not something I look forward to. Time to move the stuff back from my desk. Not that it matters, she won't watch him while they're here; as usual, I'm the babysitter, they just sit at the table and gossip. I'm the one who face reprocussions if he is injured, not them. After all, these days everything is my damn fault.
But I digress, I don't give a damn these days anymore.
10 minutes pass, I see sunlight distort and reflect on my window. They're pulling into the driveway.
"♥♥♥♥...."
I know what's about to happen, as I grip my mouse tightly, bracing for the next seconds.
"WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOWOWOWOWOWOFFFF"
Dear god, shut the ♥♥♥♥ up.
It never fails, any time someone pulls in our driveway, my dog barks. I can't stop him, I've tried. I've trained him, it doesn't work, no one even follows the regime I purposely have planned and written. No, they enable him by shouting at him, they egg him on, and then they ♥♥♥♥♥ when he does what a dog does, telling me I should be teaching him not to do this. Yeah, well you can ♥♥♥♥ off, ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥. It's like telling the kid to stay out of the cookie jar, teasing him and taunting him to do it, and complaining that the mother didn't discipline him enough.
"CAYTEN"
I force a smile on my face as he comes into my room, I can't let him see me at my weakest, I'm potentially the father figure in his life, since his birth father is estranged and living to the north in Oklahoma. I force my voice to be chirpy, and interact with him, even though I know it's a lie inside. I'm literally just a turtle shell filled with helium and puppeteer strings these days.
Why haven't I gotten counseling? I have, and it doesn't work. It never has. I'm a basketcase, and late diagnosis has proven that no matter the amount therapy and counseling I get, I have taught myself for years growing up to hide it all, to put up a veil, and to lie. That's all I am, a pathological liar, saying things are okay when inside I'm pondering existence of life. Living like a fork among knives knowing in reality I am just a spoon taught to be like them.
As I sit on the floor playing, I know everything has been a lie, and I don't care. He doesn't need to know, they don't need to know. If I fade away, so be it, I want an impact made, just so long as I'm not liable for the curse I bear.
Meals, people gathered around the table, as I sit without a plate on purpose. Questions asked. "When are you going to get a girlfriend?" "Why aren't you eating much?" "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine". A lie, but they believe it.
Hours pass, as I anxiously wait in my room. they dress themselves after bathing for a rested slumber, and I merely wait it out, bidding them each a blessed rest. To hide under a guise, I too bathe and dress, but as I turn off the lights, I turn my lamp on instead, and rest myself into the chair at my desk. At this point, my dog has clambered into my lap, sighing with a pleased smile on his face as he begins to softly snore.
I break off a piece of the sandwich I have made in quiet, and smile as my monitor flickers on. I tap at the keys, beginning my day in the late hours of night. Entering chatrooms, opening projects, removing my mask for the first time this eve.
Now my day begins. And for at least two hours, I am happy.