privacy - i never owned

let me reiterate my point where i left off from the previous post...

privacy is something i never possessed in my whole entire life. in my family, there are subsequent lockers and cabinets for each individual, except me, to place their personal belongings - their secrets.

my only locker cabinet which i owned years back when i was still a teenager, was apparently broken into by my mother. forcefully, till now its just an ajar wooden door, open and deserted.

all my life i never experienced the factor of self-reclusion. the only thing that i could really keep to my own was the things that were in my mind. yet being an expressive individual, i find it very hard to contain my thoughts and actions inwardly.

its such an annoyance, having my mother barge into my room EVERY SINGLE MORNING, as i'm deep in my sleep - years of such acts of avid rudeness from her part has caused me to become a very light sleeper. the retaliation and protective process.

yet every morning as she rummages through ALL my belongings, my things, my every single piece of evidence of the previous day's activities, i have never felt the slightest bit of actual real love on her part.

deem her actions as an outrightly natural process of the protective form, but she doesn't give me the single bit of Humane respect one deserves. its simply torturing.

i'm 20... i deserve my own space, my own rights... for the many previous years of protective care and concern she has showered on me, i am very thankful... however so, being brought up in such an enclose sheltered home doesn't necessarily mean it is a good thing altogether.

one sees and learns things much slower, less of the interaction with the outside world, they grow up to be self-centered, repressive and down-right childish.

sometimes i envy those who come from broken problematic families - their's was a life which enabled them to be whoever they desire, choose which path they like to walk on, without the hassle of somebody else enforcing their reasons and preferences upon every decision u make.

every notch and rat-hole, inspected and observed.
every hour every minute, calls from her cellphone to check on me.
every new clothing, new ornaments, new trash, questioned and demanded by her for a reason in their existence within my possession.

in responds to her never-ending questioning, i have learnt from years of dire state of unrests to cheat, lie and bluff my way out of the truthful circumstances... to hide from her perhaps who and where i was at, and what i was doing at the moment...why put up with more of her questionings (like i was a criminal) when i could easily shrug off her illicit demands of answers with a very good lie?

but she hasn't stopped there, after my intentionally good lies i could easily warped up like a story-teller, she'll continue abusing her position as a care-giver into an authoritarian and disciplinarian - hunt down and call all my friends who confirm where i was, and whether i was with them as i said i was before... to get them to pass the phone to be so that she could hear my voice over the cellphone that very minute.

isn't all these a rather impolite and crude way of invading whatever life and freedom i have? when will she ever stop her nonsense and just let me be, leave me alone and stop with the wreaking of my already chaotic life?

when can she just let go?

it reaches the stage where i can't seem to swim towards the surface of the tranquil waters i'm submerged into. i can't breathe in it at all.

day and night, it becomes such a big torment to stay in the house that i've the nit-picking urge to get out of its enclosed walls, this constant ringing of questions upon questions that comes out of her mouth. i just want to escape this horrible trash-hole.

i never did hold onto something and officially label it as mine.
every boy who came and left my life - scrutinized and picked-on by her,
every friend who i befriended - name-called and defamed by her rude remarks, telling me to be careful and judge them wisely, that none of them are good people.

is this why i am who i am today? the character in me that is trying so hard to surface below the murkiness of the dark waters i've been suffocating in.

who will take pity in a soul like mine, on the outside - a happy and wholesome family, but deep within it is the constant tidal waves arising, of conflicts, distrusts and suspicions.

my life is bitter... never as sweet as i try so hard to portray to others. can u understand me alot better now?