Not good.... Warning: Swearing

I had an excellently good weekend at my dad's house and was really happy when I came home. But, if people notice, my eyes are completely bloodshot and I'm limping and really don't feel good. You know why this is? Well... As I've said many times before, stress makes me extremely sick... Despite the fact that I was happy yesterday, that all was ruined the very second I opened the door to my house....

Ugh... I wanna go home, but she's there. If my mother wasn't home I would still be in bed. I feel like I'm either gonna puke or pass out...

The second I walked into my house there was no "How was your weekend?" no "did you have fun" no "welcome home"... I got a "where the fuck have you been you're an hour late! You're never going to your dads again! Why don't you just go fucking live with him and wind up in jail or on the streets!"

Yeah. Nice mom. Real fucking nice.....

"He has no right to keep you this long! What about my rights?"

What about them mother? What about my fucking rights!? I'm not 5! I'm not 2! I'm 17! Get used to it! Maybe I want to see my father cuz I get sick of your ass yelling at me all the damn time! At least you've stopped slapping me and throwing me against cabinets. Now it's just the yelling that you know I fucking despise! Where were you after you had yelled at me enough to make me sit above the toilet gagging with the inability to breathe? Where were you when I was starting to pass out on the bathroom floor because you had pushed my limits? Were you the one to calm me down? No! Grandpa was. He and grandma are on my side because you need mental help! Until you get it I am not gonna fucking talk to you got that? I don't care what the hell you do! I will not stand for you telling me that I have no right to see my fucking parent! Got that? I am going to see him! So I'm an hour late? Big damn deal! If you want me home on time get off your lazy ass and come get me your fucking self you damn bitch!

sigh. I can't put up with this shit any more. I will raise my concern. And hopefully when I do she will listen to me and seek help.... I'm not taking this any longer, and honestly, when you move out, I might just stay with my grandparents because I don't want to take your shit any longer. You're right. I don't say I love you, I don't appreciate you, I don't respect you. Why should I? You may love me, but you don't respect me, you don't trust me or appreciate what I give up for you, what I have to put up with to make you happy. Do you not care what you're doing to me? One of these days... you're going to regret this. All of this. You make me sick, literally. And I hate you for putting me through this. You can't stop me from seeing my own father, and you never will....