the type that calls the authorities when they wake up covered in someone else's blood, or the kind that doesn't? they type that still wakes up, with a start and begins to sob when this has happened again, for maybe the sixth time, or the one that picks themselves up and walks away, washing their hands of it.

argue that the second type is the smartest, the first type has their humanity.

but really, it's not like it's people they know. either type, it doesn't matter- maybe they're innocent people or children, but they're not family.

argue, not yet.

napping

I just, for once, want you all to leave me the fuck alone. honestly, if I could have a nurse at my door who told you "she's in too much pain to see anyone right now, come back later," I would. I want to disconnect and sleep and do nothing.

who made it a rule, that caring means devoting your life to that person? I care, I care, but I trust you not to kill yourself while I'm sleeping. do I have to believe differently? I love you, so do not cut/puke/fall in love again while I'm reading the series I've been meaning to get to. is that a fucking ground rule that needs establishing?

well here, I'm establishing it. I need to be allowed to tap out. sometimes people take vacations, right? let me live without your problems for one day once in a while.

is that selfish? is it wrong that I need time to recuperate in between all of your meltdowns? I think it is wrong, that i have to kill myself trying to deal with it all in the first place, but I just want you to get better, okay? I try and I try and I try but I can't always try, I can't prop you up forever.

so when I go on vacation with my family for a weekend, can I come back and find that you've been able to get on without me, if only for a while? and what the fuck am I supposed to do if the answer is no?

mother knows best

sometimes, your parents hide things from you. this isn't their fault, it's just necessary. some things are dangerous to kids. that's why they kept you away from the stove when you were barely old enough to walk, because you're too little to associate it with fire, with burns and owwie-ness.

that's why when you were six, they didn't tell you all the details of your grandma's death, because you could be content with knowing "she's in a better place, watching over you, always."

when you were 11, you didn't need to know about the family financials. you weren't worrying about getting a car or makeup or an iPod, you didn't need to know that you couldn't really afford it.

and now, well, you don't need to be anywhere near your mom's codeine. trust your parents.

wait, what? I'm 16, it's not like I'm going to take them by mistake thinking they're candy.

I'm sure no one thinks you're going to take them by mistake.

but sometimes I wonder

oh, her. that girl. I remember her. she had it coming, if you know what I mean.

do I?

you must have heard the stories. that girl wanted to die.

...what makes you say that?

so you didn't hear? where've you been that you didn't hear about that time on the sophomore overnight trip, when she cut herself in the bathroom while her roommates were sleeping?

just rumors, though, right?

or when she got drunk at a party, and made out with four senior boys? some people are saying she had sex with one of them.

oh, come on-

I hear she was friends with Ana and Mia, if you know what I mean.

I-

took prescription stuff without a prescription, if you know what I mean.

but-

you think normal people are found dead in their own puke?

...

you think normal people hate themselves that much?

... no.

right, like I said. that's never going to happen to our daughters.

yeah, of course not.

I'd never let that kind of thing happen. that girl turned out the way she did because of bad parenting, mark my words.

...

lucky Kaya tells me everything.

...

lucky you've never had any trouble with your kids.

yeah, lucky.