My mom told me to call the cops, but I couldn't do it.
In my mind cops are bad, they precede things like cps visits and domestic violence charges.
My mom hates me now, but I'm too selfish and cowardly to kill myself.
But something tells me that I'm directly responsible for all this chaos, even if I wasn't around when the argument started.
Today brought back memories of my childhood, of my mom lying on the floor crying and her high-pitched screams, her violent nature.
But back then she didn't have a husband to blame it all on.
And yet again there's a hole in my door, it seems like we can't live in a place without putting a hole in one of the walls, it's not ours until there is.
And they throw things and I'm so used to this that it's scary.
I'm in one of my bouts of depression, which makes all of this feel like a nightmare that I'm about to wake up from.
And my psychosis makes me childish, so I'm not sure that I should be making judgements about things; but my mom never thinks that her actions will make a direct impact on the world around her.
I just hope this all blows over, because I hate conflict
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