Guilty

I feel so horribly guilty, sick to my stomach guilty. I pissed mom off, on accident mind you, when I went to plug in my iPod. I said, to myself, that I was going to stay home and level my warrior, but oh well. I didn't mind. She needed me there to watch my sister, and I was okay with that. Then she got mad, said that I was attitude-y about it, and if I was, I didn't mean to be. Then she brought up how I didn't want to take my sister out to the basketball courts, where I would have had to watch her, which interfered with how I like to spend my time at the basketball court. When I'm there, I put in my music, and zone out. I'm responsible for myself, alone, and I'm peaceful. I don't have anyone to watch out for, to manage, and I don't have to worry about anyone but myself, and I'm happy there. And I usually just put in my iPod, don't keep track of time at all, and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. When I'm upset, I go play basketball, and that court has become my zone, where I can vent, where I don't have to watch what I say, what I do, where I don't have to care about anyone else, and that makes me happy. So when she wants me to interrupt that area, that zone that I like to think of as mine, I got really upset, because then I felt I had to keep a constant watch, that I couldn't zone out like I wanted. I just felt violated like that. And Rhiannon was all happy dappy, and I wanted to scream in frustration. So then I went out to the courts, with her tagging along, and I was miserable. I hated it because I felt like I had been violated and guilted into taking Rhi with me. And now she's pissed, and it's all my fault, and I hate that it's all my fault. I hate that I made her mad, that I probably wrecked the next two days I'm here, I hate that I can't keep my mouth shut, I hate that there are so many lines, and boundries, I hate that I forget, I even sometimes hate being here because I worry so much all the time about what will push what buttons, and no matter what I do, sometime or another, she's going to end up mad, and it's my fault. I hate that I can't be the adult, that I can't just step back, that I can't just let go. I hate that I'm crying so much lately, and upsetting everyone lately. I hate a lot of things, and I don't know how to fix it. All I have is I'm sorry, and that's not enough. But I don't know what to do anymore.