Everytime I Think I Could Be Happy....

I went into the upstairs bathroom today to wash my face and I noticed, in the mirror, something written on the wall behind me. I recognized my own name, so I turned around to see what it said (secretly already knowing) and it said: LDJ is a slut. Except it said my real name, of course.

My nephew (obviously) carved - and I mean carved - this into the wall and then went over it with blue pen. It is not really all that small, and my seriously protective father is going to see it soon. I don't know what's going to happen when he does.

So here's a small secret that I'm ashamed of: I kinda hate this kid. I don't know what to do anymore. His mother and my mother won't do anything about him and he constantly does things like this to me. He has chosen me as the person he is allowed to harrass. Because he knows they'll protect him. He and I have had physical fights before when I can't take it anymore. There's only so many times a kid can call you a bitch, tell you he's going to kick your head in, and then talk on the phone to his girlfriend about what a stupid whore you are. There are only so many times a kid can let his nineteen-year-old girlfriend steal your underwear (you read that). There are only so many times he can go through your underwear drawers himself and steal things you had hidden in there.

I have a padlock on my bedroom door that I lock before I leave the house now. Today he was in the room next to mine when I left, and all I can think is that he got angry that he can't steal from me or violate my privacy anymore. We've barely spoken ten words to each other for the last six months, let alone had a fight, so he must have been wanting something out of my bedroom and was frustrated to see that I made sure to lock it up. The padlock has been there almost a year, though, so why the sudden outburst?

Part of me feels bad for him, because he is the product of bad parenting all around. My sister babied him when he was little and when he grew big enough to fight her she grew afraid of him. My mother is afraid of him. They let him get away with things because they think he'll have a violent outburst and hurt them. His father isn't around and when he is around it's a crapshoot whether he spends time with his son. We don't have much money, so he doesn't get a lot of the things his friends at school get, like a new phone every six months or all the latest video game consoles. I'm sure life is frustrating when you see what everyone else has and compare it to what you don't have.

But, why me? Why has he chosen me as the focus of all his rage? Because when he was little I didn't baby him and when he fought me I fought him back? Does he find me that threatening? I guess he does. I think it's also because he doesn't understand I'm not a child. That's a big problem with my whole family. Even though I put in way more money for the bills and food than my sister who lives here with her two children, she talks about how I do nothing all the time. He hears that. Then he sees that I have things. I have a computer, a netbook, the Kindle, I had a few video game consoles (which almost all of them are gone now, stolen), I have a small refrigerator. But you know what? I bought all of that after I paid the bills that needed to be paid and bought the food that needed to be bought. I bought the computer with part of one of my paychecks from my second job teaching college. My parents bought me the netbook for my thirtieth birthday, but his mother bought him a $500 IPod for his birthday this year (he threw it at her and broke her tooth). I bought the Kindle with saved money and an extra paycheck, after I paid the water bill and bought food. This is my money because I'm a grown-up with no children and a job.

When we all moved in together, I had pretty fair credit. During the first year here, there were seven people and at one point four of them didn't have jobs, including my sister. I took out FIVE credit cards to pay bills, buy food, and keep us above water. In March four of those credit cards will be paid off (I put them in consolidation, along with my Maurices card, which was my fault). I have repaid all of those credit cards while still paying for part of the bills and food. I don't buy much and if I have a vice, like they have cigarettes, my vice is books.

Oooohhh, my mother is looking at the wall right now. I wonder what's going to happen. I can hear her trying to rub it off. Of course she's just going to hide it and pretend like it didn't happen.