Today was my birthday. It was OK... I got to sit and watch all my favorite movies and no one gave me any hassle. My sister made me a cake and my parents gave me a Macmillan 1923 edition of the Dostoevsky novel Friend of the Family. It was just what I asked for.
But now after a 4 hour drive I'm at home with my two high-anger brothers (one is probably an aspie like me, the other is a teenage jock NT) and my high-stress dad. It's a little after midnight where I live and they're all screaming at each other over the room. My dad is a heart patient and I don't want him to have a heart attack and I tried to ask my brothers to stop, but I was ignored.
I usually feel alone, and I'm OK with that. But right now it's like I'm the only sane person on the planet. I feel out of control and like it's a terrible day to have turned 21 because I don't feel like any kind of adult right now. It's too much sensory overload, I can't stop crying, and God knows I can't sleep worrying about my brothers killing each other and my dad indirectly.
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Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.
-Fyodor Dostoevsky
16 Aug 2009, 11:18 pm
