May I worry

Sometimes I'm not as deep as I want to seem. I may ponder a lot about events in my life, but in the end, I always come to the same conclusion. It's my fault. I'm not trying to be all depressing today, don't get me wrong, but when something isn't going as you hoped, don't you feel like the main contributor to the problem? You're not the one making things right, wishes fulfilled, you've let down your responsibililty. I may be sitting here blasting my happiest/cheer-me-up/dance song, but as soon as the music ends, it's all going to rush back: Why can't I get along with my mom? There's not much to explain actually, just my mom came home with a bad mood. She was trying to hide it and I could tell as soon as the first confrontation of the evening began.

Kris- “Why is my spoon laying like that on the table.” (looking at my mom since she's in the kitchen)
Mom- “I don't know” (not with her smoothest tone)
Kris- “Uhh, I know I don't lay my spoon on the table like that, it gets dirty.”
Mom- “I didn't do it!”
Kris- (looking at the eggs and vegetable on the table next to my spoon) “Mom, I know I didn't do it. You put the egg carton and tomatoes on the table, it probably pushed my spoon over.”
~At this point you may wonder how there is even anything to argue about, it's a freaking utensil. I think it's ridiculous now too, but at the time I didn't think it would escalate to anything, but also it's no coincidence that our explosive arguments always start with the most trivial matter. ~
Mom- She yelled something I can't recall.
Kris- “Well, don't blame me for it.” (Stepping down the stairs to grab another spoon)
End of Conversation.
Hahaha, See? it wasn't bad right? Unbeknownst to me until later, this was the start of something...dramatic?
I came by the kitchen later and the stove was on, mushrooms were in the pan, but it looked like she was focused on looking for something.
Piecing the clues together I asked “Do you need a spatula?”
She didn't look at me. Pretending not to hear me, she animatedly fumbled through the drawers.
“Mom, why aren't you talking?”
Mom- “I don't want to talk to any of you!!!!” It was close to a shriek.
She pushed past me on her way out of the kitchen. This set me off. In retaliation, I pushed back. She yelled “STOP IT!!”. Everything seemed to stop. She headed down the stairs to get the spatula.
Kris- “Just because you're in a bad mood from work doesn't mean you can take it out on me!”
Mom- “I'm angry when I get home.” not even bothering to hide her distaste.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't feel too bad, I know she said the last thing out of anger. I don't remember what happened after that, but this has led to what is now— the 3rd day of a mutually dealt silent treatment. Ugh...when will this end? I can't believe something so annoying like this is happening again. Since I've gone off to college and came back, I think both my mom and I tried not to get in any big fights. It's just a part of history that peace never lasts; perhaps though, being a stable family always means having some unsteady times. Disagreements included. I don't want to apologize though, I keep thinking, I don't want to continue being treated this way, and when I graduate and move out, it'll be the end of all this. Recently even, whenever I get mad at my mom, I think about using my homosexuality as a weapon. Like a bomb that will destroy our family, and that's how I will leave home, with everything shattered to pieces. I'm scared I even think about using my sexuality as revenge, but I don't know! I don't know...do I want to go off and live by myself with no family burdens, no matter if they know I'm gay or not? Be free and run away? Or maybe I want to stay nearby, impatiently waiting for them to understand and cherish me for who I am. Ah, what is wrong with me, dreaming again in the middle of the night.