Okay. So I just realized something very depressing. It was exactly a year ago tonight that my mother actually kicked me out of the house. Here’s what happened:

Last Christmas Eve, I called my mom to see if I could go to church cuz my entire family was going and I wanted to go. She said no cuz Brent (my stepdad) was already on his way to pick me up (this was before I could drive). So I said okay, but I was upset cuz I really wanted to go. And when I got home, I had myself under control until my sisters started in on me. They were screaming and everything. And my previous upset boiled to the surface and a new one was starting as well. And I screamed back at them. So my mom told me that I was ruining her Christmas and she wanted my dad to come pick me up cuz she couldn’t deal with me. So I said okay and called him and he drove an hour and a half just to pick me up. So guess what. Christmas morning she left a message on my dad’s phone that she wants me to come home, she missed me and she wanted me to open my presents. But do you have any idea how awful it is to be kicked out of the house in the first place by your mother? I can tell you, I felt so damn awful, I cried all night long. Although I should’ve been used to her shit, it still upset me . . .

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