cry me a fucking river
All I have to say is cry me a fucking river. I don’t care. And I’m not talking about you, I am, in fact, talking about my mother.
I love how mothers tell you how awfully you treat them, and slam all doors possible in your face… AFTER they have locked you out of the house numerous times, “forgotten” to pick you up because they were pissed, and continuously tell you of everything you lack and how much of a disappointment you are
And then sit in the other room sniveling as loud as possible like a little baby because you don’t go running in to tell them that they’re right, you are THAT awful, and that everything is your fault.
My mother sits and lectures me on how, in my relationship with my father, I am the more mature one. Well, duh. Seriously, anyone who knows my dad, or knows of my dad from the 2 times I have seen him in the past 4 years, can vouch. He is really immature. And abusive. And that is why I have only seen him twice in the past 4 years. That is also the reason that when I was fucking eight years old he sent me a letter telling me that I was a burden to my mother, that she never even loved me, and how much of a hassle I was and that I would never amount to anything. Cute right?
But I sit and look at my mom and my relationship and she is such a fucking drama queen. Seriously, the world DOES NOT stop while you whimper at something someone said. I used to see her as this strong, admirable person. But she is so… like my grandmother. She is conniving, and manipulative, and absolutely adores guilt trips.
My grandfather has even told me in confidentiality that my mother makes things up in her head, pathological liar style. She always says how I do things she could never do, come to find out through gramps that she could do everything I could do. She’s made a hell of her past that didn’t even exist. I swear to god if I end up with her, I will die alone and I’ll know why.
I have got to have one of the most fucked up family situations. I mean really fucked up. As in, I found out that my grandfather isn’t my biological grandfather, only, he doesn’t know that. As well as the fact that both of my grandparents cheated on each other. My aunt, by marriage, is a depressive drunk. My other uncle is a total asshole, as well as a complete introvert that thinks the world is against him. My mother, well, we’ve been over that. My father is an abusive jerk, who has the maturity level of a two year old. The only normal, amazing people in my family are my great aunt, who passed away, my grandpa who is just freaken amazing, and my other uncle, who at the age of 40-something, is in a country western band where he sings and plays guitar, has the fuzziest hair, loves his cat, and could make me laugh in the deepest times of sorrow. This is the man with the depressive, drunk Brazilian wife. He wears pink and purple shirts. He is a TOTAL bad ass. My grandpa too, they’re the best.
Well, my mother’s sniffling has died down, hopefully I won’t have to say anything to her before bed. Oh lord, and the whole other thing is that every single one of the women that are biologically related to me have chemical imbalances that they have to take medicine for so they don’t become insanely depressed. Like, I can’t escape that shit. They already know I have it, but they say I’ve handled it better than any other woman in my family thus far. Maybe its because I’m not a freaking INSANE HEADCASE like my mother and grandmother.
I wish I could fall down... and not HAVE to get back up. Im weaker than ever. I need to stop crying.
I think I just relate to my grandfather. In fact, I think I’ll go call him.
I love how mothers tell you how awfully you treat them, and slam all doors possible in your face… AFTER they have locked you out of the house numerous times, “forgotten” to pick you up because they were pissed, and continuously tell you of everything you lack and how much of a disappointment you are
And then sit in the other room sniveling as loud as possible like a little baby because you don’t go running in to tell them that they’re right, you are THAT awful, and that everything is your fault.
My mother sits and lectures me on how, in my relationship with my father, I am the more mature one. Well, duh. Seriously, anyone who knows my dad, or knows of my dad from the 2 times I have seen him in the past 4 years, can vouch. He is really immature. And abusive. And that is why I have only seen him twice in the past 4 years. That is also the reason that when I was fucking eight years old he sent me a letter telling me that I was a burden to my mother, that she never even loved me, and how much of a hassle I was and that I would never amount to anything. Cute right?
But I sit and look at my mom and my relationship and she is such a fucking drama queen. Seriously, the world DOES NOT stop while you whimper at something someone said. I used to see her as this strong, admirable person. But she is so… like my grandmother. She is conniving, and manipulative, and absolutely adores guilt trips.
My grandfather has even told me in confidentiality that my mother makes things up in her head, pathological liar style. She always says how I do things she could never do, come to find out through gramps that she could do everything I could do. She’s made a hell of her past that didn’t even exist. I swear to god if I end up with her, I will die alone and I’ll know why.
I have got to have one of the most fucked up family situations. I mean really fucked up. As in, I found out that my grandfather isn’t my biological grandfather, only, he doesn’t know that. As well as the fact that both of my grandparents cheated on each other. My aunt, by marriage, is a depressive drunk. My other uncle is a total asshole, as well as a complete introvert that thinks the world is against him. My mother, well, we’ve been over that. My father is an abusive jerk, who has the maturity level of a two year old. The only normal, amazing people in my family are my great aunt, who passed away, my grandpa who is just freaken amazing, and my other uncle, who at the age of 40-something, is in a country western band where he sings and plays guitar, has the fuzziest hair, loves his cat, and could make me laugh in the deepest times of sorrow. This is the man with the depressive, drunk Brazilian wife. He wears pink and purple shirts. He is a TOTAL bad ass. My grandpa too, they’re the best.
Well, my mother’s sniffling has died down, hopefully I won’t have to say anything to her before bed. Oh lord, and the whole other thing is that every single one of the women that are biologically related to me have chemical imbalances that they have to take medicine for so they don’t become insanely depressed. Like, I can’t escape that shit. They already know I have it, but they say I’ve handled it better than any other woman in my family thus far. Maybe its because I’m not a freaking INSANE HEADCASE like my mother and grandmother.
I wish I could fall down... and not HAVE to get back up. Im weaker than ever. I need to stop crying.
I think I just relate to my grandfather. In fact, I think I’ll go call him.