So about my life, a little or a lot?
I know it is common for people to say that they love their parents. I'm sure it is even more often heard of a daughter saying that her mom means a lot to her or some jazz like that.
Fuck man. My mom is my whole fucking life.
She has lived in Florida for a couple of months now, and I think I'm getting some perspective.
I guess she isn't my life anymore, but I know now she has defined who I am.
I think about loving someone. I can't love someone like that I don't think. Maybe that is what I think love is like.
Is love hating someone and loving them more than anything at the same time, cause fuck.
When I was younger me and sarahbeth used to debate... what would be better, be tortured, but wise... or be ignorant and happy.
I guess that is what it comes down to with my mother.
I can hate her for torturing me, or love her for making me who I am.
I want to scream when I think about some of the shit I have seen.
I remember feeling terror. Laying in bed one night in the dark... Screaming. I come out of my room and she is sitting there. Her eyes are wide and her fist clinched. Her fist pounds down onto her leg and she screams. Her other fist was clinched closed by her mouth. She had been trying to take her medicine, and couldn't grad the can of coke to wash it down with.
Fuck man. Love someone like that. Love someone so fucking much you can watch them crumble and fucking break over and over again.
I think it will remain that my mom is the hardest thing I have ever encountered in my life. She got really sick once, and I knew she had to go to the hospital. Something had to change. Shock Therapy? come the fuck on! She needed time in the nut bin man. I talked her into it, I was worried about anothing suicide atempt again.. and I didn't derserve to find her laying in her own vomit ever again so she agreed to go to the hospital.
me and my sister took her, and we had to wait for hours and hours to get approval from her insurance company... Finally we got back to the room and helped her settle some of her things in. It was time to go...I have loved boys, missed them, and lost them, and I have yet to feel a pain that comes close.
She broke down, cried likea little girl and begged. "Don't leave me here, don't leave me here" the nurses came and my sister and I left... we left her there
my mom doesn't hear voices anymore
my mom doesn't hurt herself anymore
my mom doesn't disassociate anymore
that isn't my life anymore...nothing close to that.. my parents aren't drug addicts and my mom isn't crazy...
What the fuck is my life? What a question, damn.
I feel like my life is a series of fleeting moments... pain and pleasure in a jumble of confusion...
I'mnot confused... I'm fickle,and conflicted.
I guess she just isn't my life anymore
Anyway, lets me say how I cam eot type all of this old bad tonight.
Miami Ink, this girl gets a fucking tattoo about her grand dad having cancer.
my mom and I used to say we were going to get matching tattoos that said "together"
I don't think she gets it, I'm getting that fucking tattoo because there isn't anything more to me in my life....
Fuck man. My mom is my whole fucking life.
She has lived in Florida for a couple of months now, and I think I'm getting some perspective.
I guess she isn't my life anymore, but I know now she has defined who I am.
I think about loving someone. I can't love someone like that I don't think. Maybe that is what I think love is like.
Is love hating someone and loving them more than anything at the same time, cause fuck.
When I was younger me and sarahbeth used to debate... what would be better, be tortured, but wise... or be ignorant and happy.
I guess that is what it comes down to with my mother.
I can hate her for torturing me, or love her for making me who I am.
I want to scream when I think about some of the shit I have seen.
I remember feeling terror. Laying in bed one night in the dark... Screaming. I come out of my room and she is sitting there. Her eyes are wide and her fist clinched. Her fist pounds down onto her leg and she screams. Her other fist was clinched closed by her mouth. She had been trying to take her medicine, and couldn't grad the can of coke to wash it down with.
Fuck man. Love someone like that. Love someone so fucking much you can watch them crumble and fucking break over and over again.
I think it will remain that my mom is the hardest thing I have ever encountered in my life. She got really sick once, and I knew she had to go to the hospital. Something had to change. Shock Therapy? come the fuck on! She needed time in the nut bin man. I talked her into it, I was worried about anothing suicide atempt again.. and I didn't derserve to find her laying in her own vomit ever again so she agreed to go to the hospital.
me and my sister took her, and we had to wait for hours and hours to get approval from her insurance company... Finally we got back to the room and helped her settle some of her things in. It was time to go...I have loved boys, missed them, and lost them, and I have yet to feel a pain that comes close.
She broke down, cried likea little girl and begged. "Don't leave me here, don't leave me here" the nurses came and my sister and I left... we left her there
my mom doesn't hear voices anymore
my mom doesn't hurt herself anymore
my mom doesn't disassociate anymore
that isn't my life anymore...nothing close to that.. my parents aren't drug addicts and my mom isn't crazy...
What the fuck is my life? What a question, damn.
I feel like my life is a series of fleeting moments... pain and pleasure in a jumble of confusion...
I'mnot confused... I'm fickle,and conflicted.
I guess she just isn't my life anymore
Anyway, lets me say how I cam eot type all of this old bad tonight.
Miami Ink, this girl gets a fucking tattoo about her grand dad having cancer.
my mom and I used to say we were going to get matching tattoos that said "together"
I don't think she gets it, I'm getting that fucking tattoo because there isn't anything more to me in my life....