Do you ever get that feeling that you kind of just blame yourself for everything? Earlier today, I was about to start practicing piano, but then I started crying because I got told by my mom that she got feedback from a piano competition back, and it said one thing I could improve on was emotion, which my teacher already told me I could do better on. So, hearing that same mistake twice kinda hurt. At first, I didn’t really know why, I just started feeling sad for some reason while playing the piece, and couldn’t really bring myself to try to practice to the fullest extent. But it hurt way more when my mom and dad found me crying like that. My mom found me first, and I didn’t want her to think that anything she said made me sad, so I tried to hide the fact that I was crying. After a couple more failed attempts at the piece, I started to play the other, more comforting piece, since relaxing music always seemed to help me calm down. It seemed to work for a little bit, then, she came back and deliberately asked why I was crying. Then, I started full on ugly crying in front of her, and my mouth seemed to stop working. I also didn’t know how to respond, anyway. Later, when I was in my mom’s room going to cut my hair, my eyes were still red. My dad had probably heard that I was crying, and thought it was because my mom had told me the feedback in a hurtful way. He then showed me the real comment, which hurt more for some reason, but I didn’t want him to know that since he didn’t do anything wrong. So once again, I tried to hide that I was crying. Then, my mom came from the bathroom and told me to dry my face since the hair would get stuck on it if it stayed wet. So, I went to dry my face, and suddenly, all the tears I tried to hide came flooding out. I couldn’t stop it this time either. And it was in a small room inside the big bathroom they had, so I just cried by myself. They must have heard me though, because then I heard my dad accuse my mom of saying something that made me cry, back before I practice piano today. Then, they started arguing. Me, being a people-pleaser, also being really scared of my parents (especially my dad) when they got mad, closed the door to the small room and cried then while they argued (ik a lot of crying, but its not like I could stop). I knew it was my fault that they were arguing because I was the one who started crying in the first place. If I was stronger, if I wasn’t so upset at such a small thing, if I wasn’t so sensitive, if I was more responsible, if I was like Sophie, (someone I look up to), if I was a different person maybe, then they just might not fight at all. Eventually, my dad left and slammed the door. My mom asked if I was ready to come out. I reluctantly did. My face was still stained with tears, though. She started cutting my hair. Later, my dad came in with my sister to get her to put her clothes away, since we always folded clothes in the bedroom right outside the bathroom. My face was still red and puffy and stained, so somehow, my two stubborn parents started arguing about whatever the heck they wanted to. I didn’t really care why, as long as it wasn’t something I did wrong. I just wanted them to stop fighting. They have a surprising amount of small grudges they unleash whenever they argue. Halfway into the argument, they were arguing about my reason for crying again. My mom pointed out that I was crying because they were fighting. My dad asked about before they started fighting. My mom knew why I cried, since I had told her while my dad was gone. But at that moment, I felt both pairs of eyes on me, and I just cried more. I tried to make words, but my breath hicced whenever I tried to say more than a second or sound. I felt so goddamn weak. I wanted to say the real reason, they might stop fighting, but I couldn’t. And I hated myself for that. They kept arguing, until my sister and dad left again. I couldn’t help but feel as if everything was my fault.
