More Than Butterflies

August 21, 2016

High school. Just what I need on top of my responsibilities at home. Perfect, right? The awkward clenching feeling in my stomach tightens as I write this, currently struggling to fall asleep. 


Over the past few years, I've been struck with many shocking events in my life, some being better than others. One of them being my surprising inability to withstand home and school at the same time, but show no sign of it effecting me. I just grin and bare it as the knot in my stomach begs for me to change my mind, to say something different,


But I don't. 


I know I'm not alone when it comes to trying to balance the schoolwork and the chores at home, and it makes me feel a little better to know others who can actually cope with all that stress. 


I'm just trying to figure out how to deal with people at home.


See, I feel like a second mother to my youngest sibling, a boy, not even two years old, and an absolute handful to take care of. Every time I'm in the same room with my dad and my brother, Dad tries to find any excuse why I should watch him.


Sometimes it's, "I dont need to," or, "I don't feel like it," 


So guess who has to be the mature one and just suck it up?


The knot comes back.


I want to say something.


I want to retaliate.


But I don't, I walk off and bite the insinside of my cheek, almost to the point where it bleeds. 


It's the same thing every day, it wouldn't matter if I had just gotten through five exams, a full weeks workout, and a dress rehearsal for a school musical, I'd still be required to watch the baby, cook for the family, and just be where they can see me.


My sister isn't much help. 


I know she tries to do a lot, and again, watching my brother is—without a doubt— a handful. And it isn't like she can lie about it either, my dad set up cameras in the house. 


I'm stressed out.


I need rest. 


I want to sleep peacefully without freaking out over the next biology test while trying to make sure my brother is going to be fine with my sister before I can even think about being home.


The knot grew again.


And it still grows.

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