Life

It's starting all over again. I tremble as I can hear them yelling upstairs. I went up there, too, to find out if Mom would go for a walk with me-- I couldn't stay. I couldn't bear to hear Sunny yelling about how she hates mom, or her screaming-- or Mom, ripping a radio out of the plug in the wall.
By the time I got up there, I had worked myself into quite a state; shaking, crying, and breathing unsteadily. Mom couldn't go for a walk with me, and (as it was getting late, and I female at 130 lbs) I could not go alone. Mom dragged me into the room where Sunny was, and showed me to her. Sunny only asked if Mom thought it was all her fault. I don't think either of them really cared about my state beyond their own selfish agendas.
And they were both in the wrong-- Mom for being such a control freak, and Sunny for over reacting.
She's got a psychiatric evaluation on May 12th. She'll get meds for bipolar. The quicker the better, I say.