I started thinking about my parents tonight. My parents from when I was little. I don't remember having fun with my mother. I remember her putting on make-up. I started biting my nails because she did. I remember her reading to me. I remember her talking. But that's it. Mostly I remember my dad and going to the zoo and going hiking and doing things outside. Then I started thinking about my brother and how now my dad's whole life is devoted to him. I was never demanding. Even when I needed things I didn't ask. I get lectures now from my brother when I need financial support. This sounds so stupid. They aren't even here. I get upset about my mother a lot. It's hard having a parent who isn't functional. She was sick a lot when I little, then she was in law school, then my parents got divorced, and the one demand my father made was that he get exact joint custody. My mother kept the house, all the furniture. Then she got depressed, lost her job, the narcolepsy got bad.

When I was really little I always wished my mom had the mom haircut. The blonde/salt and pepper bob that everyone else's mother had. To me, her hair which was long and with bangs epitomitzed how she was different. But that was back when she was functional. It's just upsetting because I feel I could've been so much more successful. That sounds selfish. I'm sorry.

I really need a roommate so I can talk about these kinds of things when I think about them late at night.

Sometimes I worry about my mother dying. Sometimes when she can't afford her medication I don't see her for a couple weeks and I start to worry that she might never wake up. Or when she goes somewhere and is gone for hours when she shouldn't be I think ahe got into a car accident.

She wants to come visit me and I want to tell her no because even thinking about her makes me cry ridiculous amounts. I should not be upset about this.

How much is of is because of our parents? Does it bother me so much when people are unrealiable because my mother was and continues to be unrealiable? I am consistently drawn to people who like things that my dad likes like being outside, and running, and biking, and yoga, and math, and sports, even though I don't like all of those things (I like them all to some degree, but I only like math theoretically and I only run because I feel like I should).

My dad gets really uncomfortable when people cry. I cry a lot. My mother cries a lot too. I worry I am my mother. I look like her. I write. I can be loud. I can get depressed. I sleep a lot. Ugh. Fuck, I'm going to bed. This is so ridiculous.