Troubles in Pepperland

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My Mom and I have had a really bad Evening, together. My Mom told me that Figure Skating was on, than she added that it wasn't on the channel that she was watching. I felt that she was treating me like an Idiot, so I went down into my Bedroom and ranted and raved, than I went back up and told her that she's treated me like a ret*d, by telling me that the competition wasn't on the channel that she was watching. And any fool could figure out that she was watching Smallville. Than she started to attempt to treat me like an Idiot, again, going into a useless monolouge about how she's told me that she saw the competition on Channel 3 and that she told me that it was on, because she thought I would want to watch it. I cut her off, because she was treating me the same way that she was, the first time and I yelled, OKAY, THANKYOU! Than she broke down in tears and told me, that she can't win with me. My Parents and I couldn't win with each other, since I was Ten, but that's a whole different story, all together. Than I went back downstairs and made a tiny cut in one of my Fingers, as a way of punnishing myself for making my Mom cry. I've looked at the result, and saw the colour, Red in the context that I hope never to see, again. I wasn't feeling Suicidal. I was just looking for a dramatic way to punnish myself. My Mom came down to explain that she didn't know what she did wrong. I've told her that I felt that she was treating me like an Idiot, when she told me that the competition wasn't on Channel 13. Than she told me that what I've thought, was something that I've made up, in my Head. Than I've asked her, "I make everything up, in my Stupid Head, don't I? It's always in my Head! It's always in my Head!" as I was repeatedly striking my Head, with the bottom of my Right Palm. Than she told me not to be Stupid and she had the gall to ask how it felt, when I did that. I told her that it felt good. That the pain felt good. I wasn't lying, either. The pain really did feel good. Than I went upstairs, with my Dog, Chico and my Mom and I appologized to eath other, and hugged one another, sincerely. I'll have to think of a crafty excuse for the Bandage on my Finger. I'll tell her, that I was cutting an Orange into slices to have as a 4:00am Snack, before going back to Bed. What can I do, to stop punnishing myself? I'm not Suicidal. I just inflict pain on myself, as a form of Self Punnishment. Especially when I know that I've hurt a person that I love very dearly. It's like the pain feels good, and it does. It must be the Spankings that I've recieved as a small Child, even though they were few, and far between. It's like the pain reminds me of happier, simpler days.

I sometimes cut myself when I'm really overstressed, and I hit myself when I'm angry or I'll hit stuff (beds, phones) so I don't hit other people. It really bothers me that I can get that angry. I haven't found a real solution but have some temporary ones--every so often I'll take deep breaths, or I'll just say "I can't be here right now" and take a walk. Or I'll have a drink. I try not to do that last too often.
Families are the most stressful places on earth, next to spouses. You get frustrated when they don't understand you. Again, the things that work best for me are going for a walk, taking deep breaths. Or talking to a friend.

Things are better, now. I know that if I want to be treated like a Typical 31 Year Old, than I must move out. I've mailed my initial BC Housing Form. (I live in British Columbia). All I need to do is wait out the Wait List, which could be a challenge for me. Some of those Wait Lists are over five years long. The trouble is that I don't think I can wait that long, and I don't want to live with my Younger Sister, because she even treats me more like Rain Man, than my Parents do. With my Parents, it happens twice a Week. With my Sister, it happens twice a Day. I can't really live with my Aunt, either. My Aunt has never had Girls, and she might be over-protective of me, which is the last thing that I need. I can't move in with my Obese Friend. She's 30 and she has the Emotional Maturity of a Five Year Old. She also goes out to buy Junk Food, whenever she has a Problem, and I know that if I was living with her, she would be draging me to the Corner Stores with me, and i don't need that rubbish, because I'm a Weight Watchers Member, and I take that part of my Matrix very seroiusly. That so-called Friend of mine is also a Girly-Girl, so I don't think that she would appreciate me displaying the sporty colours of the Union Flag, my Routemasters and my London Taxis in her Appartment, even if they are displayed on a tiny little table in the corner of her Innocent Pink TV Room. She would be begging me to pack away my Prized Possesions, with Child-like Tears in her Eyes. When you get to the end of the rope, you should hang in there, and that's exaclty what I'm going to do.