Thats it, I'm moving out. I should have moved out the day I turned 18. I don't know where I'm going to go, or with who, but I've got to get away from the psychos that live in my house. More specifically, my mother. Maybe my brother is right, maybe we should just get our own place together if only until the summer when I'm done with my first year of school. On second thought, no, that would be a disaster. That was probably just my fever talking. It's no shocker that I'm as fucked up as I am when I look at my mom. It terrifies me that I might become her one day, she is insane. I've had many fallouts with my father before but tonight I have to side with him, no matter how awkward it may feel. She was out with her friends, drunk as usual, cell phone turned off, and he called the restaurant simply to check up on her and ask her when shes coming home. She took this personally, and I warned him that she would before he made the call, and now shes moping around the house crying hysterically and blaming both him and I for her shitty life. Her shitty life? First of all, I did nothing. Second, if anyone is blaming anyone else for their shitty life, it's me blaming her. Most of my problems stem from her bad parenting and her own mental shit that she passed onto me. I won't lie, I have a bad temper, much more so when I'm sick, I get extremely cranky. So I got in her face and basically exploded in a rant that was nothing short of every profanity in the book. I feel kind of bad about it, I mean, she is my mother, and I do care about her, but god, shes impossible. You do not come to me in your drunken stupor when I am sick and call me an idiot over something my father did, or rather, for siding with him, because honestly he was only trying to find out if something wrong since she wouldn't answer the phone. Sorry for caring.