I am not having a good time living at home. All my mother and step-father do is snap at each other. They both takes turns at it and are both guilty of treating each other that way. They just jump down each other's throats and neither try to understand the other's viewpoint. It's just so hostile and tense all the time. Someone is always wronged and angry.
Sunday night at dinner, Mom sits down to eat and my step-father yells at her that she took the wrong hamburger. The one on her plate is the one he made for my dog. Mom snaps back she didn't want a burnt burger and then begins to cry that the dog gets better treatment than her. What my step-father fails to tell her is that the burger he made for the dog had no spices and hers did. He should have explained the difference and then let her have whatever burger she wants. But he's mad and now she's mad. He snaps about something regarding the lettuce and tomato burger toppings. My instinct is to run. I want to grab my plate and take it upstairs to my bedroom. I don't want to be around this. But I know if I do leave, I'll make things worse.
The tension is so thick that I'm pounding my head into my fists. I'm beating myself. I can't sit here and not do something to make the situation better. I explain the difference of the burgers to my mom, but it's too late. No one cares. No one is listening. Mom cut her (new) burger into pieces and isn't even eating it. My step-father sees my mother cry and he leaves the table and goes outside. Mom begins to yell and my dog runs out of the kitchen, too skitish to beg for dinner. She hates him, she says. He's a bastard. She can't stand this house.
I try to explain that this house is supposed to be my safe haven and my refuge. This fighting isn't good for me. I told her I wanted to move out just to not be around this. My mother cries harder and says she doesn't want me to leave because she doesn't want to be alone with my step-father. Now I feel like I have 3 jobs: the one I get paid at, the one where I try to be non-partisan and cut the tension just to make the house liveable, and the one where I keep my mother company so she won't be lonely and have to face her marriage.
The house feels cold and impersonal and I'm uncomfortable here. I don't want to be here either. I wish Christopher would call and invite me over, but I know at this moment I'll just be running away from something instead of running towards him. I'm doing pretty well and I feel guilty for telling my mom this is supposed to be my rehab. Since I'm doing so well I should just suck it up and be there for her and save my money. But I think there is some fragility to my state. I don't want to push things and suffer an emotional set back. I don't feel entirely safe here. I don't think of this house as a place where I can mentally and emotionally flourish. I don't feel emotionally safe. I don't want to suffer and be uncomfortable and be stuck in the crossfire of angry words and tension.
I wonder if I could feel safe in my own apartment. I know I get lonely when I'm separated from people for so long and I know crying jags are a distinct possibility if I live on my own. At least I don't cry when I live at home. I'm too scared to. I just want to have a safe place in my life.