I'm back. It happened again, so recently, a matter of fact yesterday. I'm once again in captivity. Like a bear trap, except the clasp is around my heart and mind. Piercing through them, shredding both apart. I'm once again so vulnerable and broken, it is too much to describe in words. Just a few days ago, I was free from these restraints. It's not the first time I've escaped, but then was pulled back.

Sometimes I think of myself as a helium balloon who had stumbled across some bad luck and ended up getting caught on a branch of a large oak tree. Just stuck there, hopeless and waiting for something miraculous. This branch resembles my troubles, and I am just stranded with them. Mainly these troubles are caused by my parents: one an unstable alcoholic and the other an aggressive narcissistic hothead. My parents have been divorced for as long as I can remember, and I lived an equal amount of time with both.
I was once daddy's little princess, oh how the times have changed. Every day is like walking on eggshells, one wrong move and something will be broken; it's usually my spirit, my ambitions, and most importantly, my heart.
  I noticed my mother's issues with her addiction when I was much younger. So I favored spending time with my father, but as I grew older he became ruthlessly angry over every single detail. Triggering his anger ranged from spilling a glass of milk at dinner to asking too many questions; resulting in a night of endless loud screams that I would hear from under the protection of my blankets. Most nights were and sometimes still are restless with his hurtful name calling, shouting, wall hitting, and threats. I couldn't deal with living with my father anymore. Sometimes it would become too much, and I would just break. I was once such a strong little girl, and I literally prided myself on never crying. Once again, oh how the times have changed!
For about a year I lived entirely with my mother. At the age of thirteen, I was the responsible one which is difficult because I was young and needed to mainly support and provide for myself. Spending most nights alone to conquer my own fears of the dark, to cook and clean for myself, to do laundry, and to force myself to get up and be on time for school every morning. If I was ever so lucky, my mother would stumble home in early hours of the morning. We often fought and argued whenever she was around. Some days she couldn't afford to support her addiction; those were the good days. Whenever my mother wasn't intoxicated we would get along and spend time together, but still things were progressively getting worse.
All motivation to do better for myself was gone, and I honestly just wanted to escape. It was overbearing to be an adult. I grew up too quickly and ever so jealous of my friends and their picture perfect lives. I could not wait to be an adult. I wanted to be free of my branch and soar above and away from everything I have ever known. For a short year my mother somehow managed to support us financially, but things were often scarce.
When high school started, I was forced to move back in with my father part time because he is a controlling person and told me that if I would not “live and comply with his rules” he would not pay for me to attend my desired high school. I was heartbroken because I knew I would be extremely unhappy living with him, but I also wanted to go to this school because it is such an amazing school with an accepting community.  So I decided to move back half time with him. Things were alright, sometimes rough but better than before. I was living with my mother half of the time, so even if my father were to be angry with me it was bearable.
Presently, my mother actually hit rock bottom. We were evicted roughly five months ago, forcing me to live entirely with my father. Some days are fine, one could almost describe it as normal, but still often are the horrible days. Recently, I lived with my aunt on my mother's side, her husband, and four adorable children all under the age of eight. Also, an amazing family friend has helped so much and without her I don't know what I would do. She is always there and so extremely supportive. Life was the best it had been in ages, but it all came to an end.
Yesterday, my mother, drunk as usual came to visit me. The first I've seen her in over a month. I honestly wish she hadn't come because her friend drove us to my father's where I am currently. I lived with my aunt and her family because of a large argument we had a few weeks in advance. I hope that things will get better because there are days when I  feel compassion for my father. He is a human being after all.
Soon I will officially be an adult anyways. I am in the home stretch and ambitiously waiting for the day I forever untangle myself from this particular branch of my large oak tree. I don't regret or feel sorry for myself anymore because I am ready for whatever life has to throw at me now. Maybe one day my mother will finally become sober, and my father realize that shouting isn't the best parenting tool. Whenever I become discouraged I listen to one of my favorite uplifting songs, and these lyrics stand out to me from "Smile" by Mikky Ekko: “Smile! The worst is yet to come, we’ll be lucky if we ever see the sun.” I’m sure I’ll have many more problems in my lifetime, but until the very last one I will live through each of them. I will get caught in the branches of new trees, but only one of them will be permanent.