So here we go again.....

So here we go again. I am in deep shit that I couldn’t even think straight. I guess I don’t really have anything to go with my name. I am a graduate of a prestigious university in the Philippines and yet I am nothing. Yes. Nothing. Imagine having to rely on your step father for a roof over your head. You would think that it’s a good thing, me being able to live in a two million home in one of the richest part of the US. But it’s not. I am literally confined to a prison cell called the guest room. I have all the amenities: TV, bed, computer, bathroom, and even a patio. What more could a girl ask for? But having Robert Ascher as a step father is like walking on eggshells, you don’t know when hell would break loose. Just last night, I just came home from an exhilarating night out with my cousin and her roommate. I came home with nothing bad ever happening to me so I was in good spirits. Just when you imagine that nothing else could go wrong, BAM! I didn’t know my cousin would call at 11pm. She called in the land line and my mother answered the phone. My mother, who was drowsy since she drank a sleeping pill told my ever wonderful step dad that it was me who called. Hell came to the house. Bob got mad at me for being inconsiderate. Do you know what he did to retaliate? He changed the channel of the TV, put it on the highest possible volume and then he went upstairs to yank the internet off. Yes. Talk about mature. That is one of the most immature things he ever did. And I thought the things he did before were immature.

Literally, I was in my prison cell. I was locked away in my room, away from my only source of happiness: the internet. They know that they can ruin me by removing the internet since I am always in front of it. I can’t help it if I am not a part of “the living” people they call themselves. Honestly, if they call themselves alive, I’d rather be dead and buried six feet deep. It is not my fault if I am not like them. Apparently my mother doesn’t understand it too. She called me a spoiled brat for the first time in 24 years of my existence. Can you believe it?! Me, a spoiled brat. Yes, you heard it right. I am a SPOILED BRATTY KID. Funny how things go, huh? And I thought I am sacrificing myself to them. Apparently that is not the case. I guess those things I did does not mean a thing to them. I am already resigning myself to the fact that my parents would probably be on my back until I’m old.

I would love to ruin my life several times over. It is so easy to choose a way to die and do it. I had thought about it several times. But the thought of them feeling sad always made me stop. I just want to drink until I pass out. I just want to take different drugs and be the human guinea pig. I want to be promiscuous and be with different partners until I get sick and die. I want to stop studying and just literally stop caring for my future. I just want to give in to peer pressure and maybe check and see what would happen to me when something bad happens. Then maybe, when I would do something sane then they would be proud of me. Yeah, I guess that’s the case. I am just too damn straight.

I can’t help it if I am cynical right now. Funny how things turn out. Everyone thinks that I am living the American dream, but in reality, I am living an American nightmare. I know I don’t have it as bad as other people. I would even consider myself as one lucky bitch. If only I don’t have to live at such a crappy place with crappy people. How can you live in a place that you seem to be a visitor? How can you live in a place where every word, every action can be taken against you? Even my actions before I left the Philippines were added to me. My mother officially thinks I am a spoiled brat. That’s funny. I don’t even ask for things I didn’t need before. Every penny she told me to keep I kept in the bank. I also worked while I was still studying. I was selling pirated stuff. I was teaching taekwondo. The money I earned from those things bought me the extra things I want in life. I know it wasn’t much, but I was able to earn well. I was proud of those things, even if it seemed little to them.

I miss my crappy place in the Philippines. Even though it was small, I was able to have one of the most soul searching times ever. I even had an identity then. I was even confident. Can you believe that? I just hope I can feel confident again. I guess I just have to get out of this hell. I just don’t know how. I want to work, I want to study, but I don’t think I have the time. I don’t know, maybe the timing is wrong or something, but I just can’t get to my goals.

They think I am lazy, but they just don’t know that they are suffocating me. They each try to make decisions for me. They always think its right but it’s not. I just don’t comment on it because they always get on my back. I don’t even have the freedom to go out.

How can I make my own decisions if they are always there trying to think for me?? How can I move at my own phase? I can adjust well here in the US if they JUST GET OFF MY BACK!!!!!! Jeez?!? How hard can that be?!

When I don’t get out of my room they think I am just lazy. When I get out of my room they think that it’s weird that I am out of my room. Where does that put me? They told me that I am not adjusting. ADJUSTING TO WHAT?!?!?! I already know that I am a second citizen in this country, but do they have to do that too inside the damn house? Honestly, I envy my cousin because at least I know that her parents support her too, just like me, but they didn’t care who she dated. Me? I have to look for someone who has blond hair and blue eyes, who is filthy rich, never mind if he is as bad as my step dad, at least he has money right? I have to be very thin so that GUYS WILL LIKE ME. Yep, talk about vain, but that is my mother speaking. At one point she would tell me to dress for MYSELF because you HAVE TO LOVE YOURSELF FIRST. Then the next sentence would start with the words: you are too fat. Uhuh, and how can I love myself with my own mother telling me that I’m fat and ugly? Don’t you think that is too contradicting? God! And then she asks me why I have low self esteem. Jeez, why don’t you make a wild guess? Nothing is too good for them. I am already resigning myself to that fact. I will forever be in their wrath.

I don’t even have the right to show anger. My mother saw me clenching my fists in anger and she called me aggressive. Hah! I never punched a person outside the gym in anger. I never did and I never will. You know why? Because I know that I can kill a person with just a punch. I know that I am lethal. I know that because I am a teacher. I know that because I am a person. I know that because I am a martial artist. I guess my mother does not know that. Because she shouted at me to stop it.

Can you stop your anger when you have been called a liar? Accuse you of lying? And I thought I was a good person all throughout life. I thought that I was honorable. I would admit to slacking of and being lazy at times, but a LIAR?! People get mad at me for being too honest and here I am being accused of lying. And stooping that low? My GOD!!!! I know I didn’t graduate with honors, but I am a professional. Try accusing a person, telling her that you called at 11pm because you were annoyed at your step dad. Yes. That was what my step dad accused me of. He told me that I called at 11pm just to deliberately annoy him. I asked him why I would stoop that low. You know what he told me?

“I don’t know. You are a liar. Why should I believe you?”

That’s a low blow. You have to be a saint not to get angry at that. In just 24 hours he deliberately tried to annoy me and then he would have the guts to tell me that?! Do you want to know what occurred?

• During the morning hours, my cousin called and wanted to speak to me. He didn’t even bother to give me the phone or the message that my cousin called when he knew that I was in the prison cell, watching TV.
• I ate lunch at around 1pm, hoping that he would be finished with whatever business he has in the kitchen like eating or drinking. Then, while I was eating my lunch, the window guy came. He didn’t even introduce me to the guy. He just went around me, like I wasn’t even there. And then he suddenly told me to turn that thing (TV) off. So I did. They were still standing around me as if I wasn’t there. So I didn’t even finish my lunch, I just dumped them all in the trash can and went out of the kitchen. While I was going out, he suddenly told the window guy if he wanted to have a drink or something then sit around and talk things over. Oh yeah, a second citizen. I guess a prisoner doesn’t have the right to sit there. The prisoner has to get out of the seat where they want to sit so that the visitor and the warden will have more time to make small talk in a 4000sq.meter lot.
• Changed the channel when he knows that I was still watching (the prisoner can only watch TV when the Warden is not watching the TV). And put the volume on HIGH. Very HIGH.
• Unplugged the internet when he knew I was still using the internet.

Can I ask you guys again, who stooped that low? It is still a mystery to me. *sarcastically speaking*

Who wouldn’t be mad? I guess my mother thinks that it is all my fault. I guess it is. I mean, think about it, I don’t think they would have ever fought if I never visited my mother. They wouldn’t have a hard time if I lived somewhere else. He wouldn’t fight my mother if I had supported myself all throughout college. All these leads to the final conclusion: I guess I am a big mistake.

I already foresaw these things before I went to Florida for good. I mean, I only stay in their place before for a month only and every time he would make a living hell out of my vacation. Do you think that would change with me living here permanently and having a diploma? I don’t think so. Every time I placed something in the boxes that I would bring gives me the feeling of utter dread. Would you believe it? A black belter is scared for her life. You know why? Because I can’t fight back. Because my mother loves this person that I really hate. I never thought I would hate someone as much. But I do. It’s just like being with my father, the only difference is that at least my father loves me and that I was able to escape my father. I went inside the prison cell willingly, but I cant seem to get out. Help me.

I am crying my heart out right now. I am in an emotional turmoil. I just want to go out and forget everything. I just want to lie down and sleep and dream that everything is all right, that I am out of this hellhole. I want to dream that I live in a beautiful place, with my husband and kids, that I would have a good job, that my family would be happy, that my parents would be happy too.

I guess that wouldn’t happen anywhere soon. I better end this now before I think of ending my life again.