Sometimes I really can't stand living at home. I've wanted to stop living with my family for a long time. Probably since I started high school. I remember always feeling like shit and bitching about my family to close friends. Back then, it was the constant arguments, either between my parents or between me and my brother or -- anyway, it's just a lot of arguing between the four of us. I'd sit in my room trying to drown everything out by blasting my music. I used to think that the people who end up having psychological problems due to a bad family background sounded like a bunch of bullshit, but now I'm starting to understand how it can really affect people.
The constant arguing was a thing of the past. I have to say that now, things are a lot better between us. But ofc, better doesn't mean 100% perfect. Nor does it mean that I no longer have the desire to leave this shithole because I definitely still do. Even though there's a lot less arguing now, I still hate living with my family. I feel so suppressed and suffocated here. I know my parents don't like the idea of me "leaving the nest" one day, but shit, they don't even try to hide that fact. They always seem to be hovering over me and telling me what to do, always giving me so much pressure and shit. Sometimes this apartment feels like a jail cell to me, a means for my parents to keep their eyes on me. And by not letting me go to school upstate, I feel like they're trying to put a leash around me. On top of that, now I have this huge burden on my chest and a lot of pressure to do well in school because my parents have to pay a lot out of pocket for my tuition. I pretty much have to work as much as possible to help pay for tuition, so I barely have time to relax and go out to do whatever I want. I'm not even living, just surviving. I think part of this is my brother's fault.
Where do I start with my brother? Well, I remember disliking and even probably hating my brother from as far back as I can remember. From elementary to high school, he was always ill-mannered, short-tempered and pretty much just a huge dick to me. Not only would he verbally abuse me, he hurt me physically a few times too. And ofc, being me, I'm not one to just take his shit, so I talk and try to fight back too, but knowing me, I'm a fucking stick so obviously I can't beat a guy who's stronger than me. What do I think about my brother? I used to think he's a no-good immature piece of shit who's a sad excuse for a brother because he never treated me like a younger sister. But hey, you know that saying that guys just mature slowly, and sibling relationships get better eventually? Well, that's true because our relationship is a lot better now. We don't physically fight anymore, but we'll still get into arguments sometimes, and when we do, things get ugly. I still think he's immature as fuck, but definitely more mature than he was in the past. He's funny, but tries too hard to fit in, which also means he's easily influenced and caves to peer-pressure like nothing. He also has a kind heart that most people probably can't see right away. I'm sure that deep (way deep) down inside, we care for and maybe even love each other. Anyway, back to the point. Part of the reason why I've got a leash and all this pressure/hopes placed upon me is because he's not mature enough. Essentially, my parents gave up on him so now they pretty much expect me to support them when they get old.
I mean, I'm not complaining about that because I'm down with the whole filial piety concept and all, but damn, I have no real freedom. My mom is... well she's a fucking gem. lol Don't get me wrong, the woman has been through a lot and does a lot for us -- for me, but I guess our personalities don't mesh well. I was never super close with my mother for a number of reasons, and these reasons keep changing with the seasons as well. As a child, I always knew that she favored my brother more than me because that's just the traditional Asian parent way -- gotta love the kid with the penis more b/c they supposedly "stay in the family" when they get married, but the daughters will be married off to another guy's family. So ya, I resented her because she would clearly favor him more, but always refused to admit to it, and I think that's what pissed me off. Now, she's going through a phase in her life (midlife crisis or some shit) which makes her moodier than ever and even more difficult to talk to. She pretends to be open and understanding about shit, but that's just a front she puts on to trick me into confiding in her. When I do, she'll immediately shoot down my opinion and try to assert her own onto me, so it's quite discouraging to me and makes me not want to tell her anything because I doubt she'll ever really understand me. And don't get me wrong, I love her, but I can't really bring myself to do anything to really show her that I do. That's messed up, I know, and I also know that I don't appreciate her as much as I should, but it's kinda hard when she's always tooting her own goddamn horn, praising herself as a great mother. Who does that? -__- My cousins say that my mother is the type of person who likes to be praised and showered with compliments and gifts -- pampered, I guess? They're absolutely right. I used to buy her shit for Christmas, Mother's Day and her birthday, but I was too bz with college during my freshman year, so I didn't do anything for that one year. Fucking bitch had to call me out on it, and that annoyed me cause wtf I'm not obligated to buy you shit. I did it because I wanted to, not because you told me to, y'know? I told her I was bz with school so I didn't have time to do anything and she said that's an excuse, that I buy presents and shit for my friends, but not her. What kind of parent gets jealous of their kid's friends? The more she kept bugging me about it, the less I wanted to buy her anything anymore. Yeah, I'm a bitch. I admit it.
So you're probably wondering what set me off and motivated me to rant about my dysfunctional family today. WELL. After a long day, I'm sitting at my computer doing whatever, and my o-so-lovely (I'm being sarcastic, if you didn't notice) brother comes home and starts throwing a tantrum because his fucking weed stash is missing. And then he does the most immature thing ever and calls my mom (who, again, is going through some phase that makes her anxious and depressed as fuck) to bitch about his missing "box". Obviously it was the work of my dad, who loves going through people's shit without permission, and my brother knows it too, but the little cunt is too afraid to confront him about it, so he whines to mommy. And then my dad loves to be a little shit (don't assume that just because I didn't rant about my dad in here that it means he's a lot better than any of them, because honestly he's not) and refuse to admit to doing things that everyone knows he did until he's cornered into admitting it. So both of them were pretty much using my mom as the middle-man and yelling at her when they should be yelling at each other. And I'm sitting here in my room trying to do my fucking homework, but I can't concentrate because of the ruckus happening outside. All for what? A fucking box of pot. I swear, once I graduate and find a job, I'm outta here first thing.
There's a lot to write, but I don't feel like writing everything down, so here's a brief version of what went down: 
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