OY

5:45 am - Half awake, I hear someone coming into the bedroom. Thankfully I had the sensibility to cover up my nudity with a blanket because yay, it's my father. He peers at me and realizes his mistake that I'm not my mother. He goes away.

6:10 am - Now I'm fully awake because of my father's ranting about my unclean room. He screams in that shrill voice of his, a childish sound of someone demanding attention because he gets none in this world. I tell him to get out to no avail. I resort to plunking my face down on my pillow and ignoring him. I lock the door to the 2nd floor behind him and then I lock my bedroom door.

6:45 am - It's too late. I'm fully awake and I've only gotten 4 hours of fitful sleep. I will do like Marsha Linehan and get through this day with mindfulness. I will not dwell on how I wish I had the option to afford housing or how my parents owe me money or how I owe them for helping me out when I was broken or how I wish my parents would understand that they have more to lose by pushing me aside than I do losing them.

7:15 am - I'm sitting here, A/C on full blast even though it's relatively cool up here. It's to block out the sound of my father yelling. I'm typing because if I don't, I will become depressed.

I wish that I wrote about this during a time of placidity but it's not meant to be. I proposed to M. My first marriage proposal - it makes me smile. Even though I knew his answer (no, of course; accepting a marriage would be unpragmatic), I knew that this was the right thing to do. Ever have one of those lucid moment in between boredom and anxiety, where you are exactly who you are? That's what it was for me.