Six Months Later...

The six month anniversary of my grandmother's passing is fast approaching. These past six months have been hard on my family and me, and on me especially. But I got the greatest compliment this Christmas from my uncle. The same uncle who blasted me six months ago told me he was impressed. Over the past few months, he told me, he saw a huge change in me, how I acted and how I treated certain things. He was proud of me, especially for proving him wrong.

I think this whole experience has changed me in a way. I'm not the same person I was six months ago. I've had to grow up, and do it in a short amount of time. The down side of that is it not registering with others. My parents especially. I'm having a difficult time with them. I moved back home after living on campus for four years to save money, as they hiked up housing costs yet again. The agreement was I could be like I was living on campus, just I was at home now. Yeah, that never worked out. It was clearly established I was living in my father's house. His house, his rules. I left a book on the counter so I wouldn't forget it in the morning. It wasn't there in the morning, as I woke to the sound of him throwing it in my bedroom. I learned fast to put Sticky notes on my stuff, little reminders, so it wouldn't happen again. My mom threatened to ground me if I forgot to do the dishes again. I actually laughed in her face, told her "What're you gonna do? Take away my keys so I can't drive to school? Take away TV privlages when you're not home and I am all day? Tell me I can't see my boyfriend when I can see him on campus? I'm 22, Mom, not 16." She later appologized for the incident, but the fact remains.

I can't even talk to them like an adult. They don't respect anything I say. My father has slammed the door in my face when I tried to talk to him (an action my mother got on his case about). Respect is something that is earned, and apparently I haven't earned their respesct yet. I asked mom after the door-slamming-in-face incident if I had to respect my father. She said I did, because he was my father. "Well that's not fair. And I dont' respect him after that." I try so hard to be patient when I talk to them, but sometimes I loose it. I confess that most of the fights are caused by my reactions to what I'm told or not told. My father and I feed off each other and both get worked up until one of us snaps. Most of the time it's me. Other times it's him. But it's because I'm trying to talk like a mature adult and he talks down to me.

How can I grow up and mature in an environment where my own parents won't let me grow up? How am I supposed to react to their talking down to me? It's frustrating and I can only take so much. When I try to tell them that, I get a lecture and put in my place.

I'm graduating from college with my BS in Biology and BA in Anthropology in May. That's one step, one I'm looking foward to greatly. I wish Gigi were still here, so I could go over to her place and stay with her like we said I'd do. Once a week, maybe more if she got Internet for the house. But she's not here, and I'm stuck in a rut I don't know how to get out of.