What a to-do

This morning, I kinda had a big blow up, with myself really, although my sister got to hear all of it. I have a lot of thoughts roiling around in my head and a limited amount of time to express them as the parking meter is ticking down the block. However, I will say that it's frustrating to be in this vicious cycle where it's like, I come to visit my family and I feel like sometimes I'm treated like a child, and so then I act like a child a bit, and then I'm told to act my age, and then treated like a child. It's very frustrating. I feel like all my family ever gets to see is me being irresponsible and immature. You see, we haven't really lived together, all four of us, for five years, and I think I've changed a lot in five years - I really do. When I'm at Whitestone, or more generally, when I'm in a setting where I have responsibilities and I have to make decisions and all that, I can do it no sweat. Most of the time, I feel that I do pretty well at that. But you see, my family never gets to see me in those situations. They see me when I'm in limbo, or when I feel like I'm on vacation, or when I don't have anything to be responsible about, and I feel like all they see of me is the child. Then I get mad because I know I'm not really like that, it's just that I'm always visiting them, seeing them in their element, and they never come visit me and see me in my element, where I really am a grown-up, put-together individual. Therefore, I feel like I come across as this pouty child. For instance, this morning, my mom was going to take my dad to Springfield to fly back to WV, and I wasn't going to come, and there was no big to-do about it. I didn't think it was a big deal one way or the other, so I opted not to go for the drive and see if I could do some stuff while I had my sister's car. Anyway, my parents were staying, while they were here, with the Zieder's, an older couple from my sister's church. They're very fun people and very nice, but they started pushing the point of going with my parents. You see, in my mind, it just wasn't a big deal, but when they started pushing, and acting like I for some reason was not allowed to decide for myself, but needed to be directed on what I should do, not in a manner befitting a young adult but rather some teeny-bopper, it became a big deal for me not to give in to that because I hate it when people don't trust me to be the adult I am, youngest in the family though I may be. I asked my dad if he cared, and he said he didn't, and I asked my mom, and she said she wouldn't be mad but it was whether I had a heart to do it. To me, I wasn't thinking it was a "heart" issue, it was just a little drive to drop Dad off, so this made me mad because I felt like she was trying to make me feel guilty, and I wish she would have said something, if she thought it was indeed a big deal, before the Zeiders were pushing it, because then I might have come because we would have been talking about it on an adult level rather than me being treated like a little kid. I'm not saying I'm not to blame, I just don't think I'm the only one to blame. Anyway, I poured it all out to my sister and I was so frustrated that I was crying really hard. I do that when I get frustrated. I just wish I could be the responsible person that I know I am - I wish my family could see that, but I feel like all they see is me acting like a 15 year old. That must be my fault. I cannot fault others for the way I come across. It's just that here I have nothing to prove that I am who I have become rather than who I was five years ago - the only way I could prove that is by breaking the cycle and I should have gone to Springfield, even though I felt unjustly coerced in a childish manner, if that makes sense. I should have just sucked it up and done it, even though it would have charred my pride. Who gives a damn about my pride, honestly? It's not that important. Anyway, Dad, I'm sorry I didn't come. I really didn't think of it as a big deal and I should have thought of what it would mean to you and Mom. I'm really not the churlish person I come across as.

Whew, ok. Well, the parking meter is running. To all my friends out there, I love you.