So. That's Fun.

I feel like I ruin everything. I can’t seem to get along with my family very well. I mean, my parents are good and all, but I think I fail them way too much. I fail my siblings all the time, too. Nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone.
Take today for example. All day, my back has been killing me. I didn’t bring my cello to band practice because it was too heavy, and all day I’ve been twisting in my chair trying to pop this one part of my spine behind my shoulder blade on the left side. This evening when I came home, the pain was so bad I had trouble carrying my school bin inside because of the weight. As soon as I got inside, I went to my room with a tennis ball and tried lying on the floor and trying to roll it between me and the carpet so my back would pop and relieve the pain, but it didn’t. After dinner, it was my turn to do dishes, and I felt like I couldn’t do them because of having to stand up and lean down over and over again. I was just in too much pain.
So what did I do? I asked my mom if she could possibly do them for me. She didn’t believe my story, so she told me to ask Kristen. My sister didn’t believe me either, and she apparently felt horrendous, so she told me to ask Daniel. Daniel, who was on my laptop doing homework, flew into a rage when I asked him. I told him that I would switch him my dishes night now for his tomorrow. He still refused, so I rationalized, “Why should I let you use my computer for homework if you won't switch dishes nights because of my back?”
He bitched about it, and then sent me down to ask Dad. I explained my dilemma to him, saying nobody will believe me and I just can’t do the dishes tonight. He told me to tell Daniel to come down and talk to him.
On my way back up the stairs, I was met by my red-faced brother who snapped, “Take your stupid computer!”
I’m guessing Dad convinced him to do the dishes, because soon afterwards as I lay in bed, I could hear plates and silverware tinkling as they were placed in the dishwasher. About fifteen minutes later, I received a nasty text message from Daniel which had a bad, all-too-familiar aftertaste of Michael Newman to it:

“Hey Steph! I just want to thank you for making me do the dishes today! It gave me a giant migraine that makes me want to puke! Also, thanks to you, I have a missing grade in Spanish I can’t make up! Just thought I’d let you know.”

Um.

Sorry?

What in the world was I supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry my back hurt?”

Not only do I fail Daniel, I also feel like my dad disapproves of me. He’s subtly insulted me a few times at dinner about my face and features, and has started grumbling and giving me frustrated looks every time I ask him to eat in another room. Today he snapped at me, “Why do you guys fight all the time?”

Whenever I ask him if we can go get my permit, he always exhales quickly, like a sigh, before answering me. I don’t know if it’s just that he’s frustrated at work, or if he doesn’t like me, but it still hurts all the same. I don’t see him doing it to my siblings. Maybe he liked me better when I used to stay in my room all night crying and he didn’t ever have to see me.
I'm so good at hiding when I'm hurt. Nobody even suspects a thing.