I'm about to shoot myself.
I.
Am.
Sick.
Of.
Being.
Your.
Child.
Coming home from a great day, just to listen to your mom bitch at you for hours is.not.fun.
That's all she knows how to do.
Does she know that it actually hurts me?
No.
She doesn't give a fuck either.
I stopped cutting.
Yippie.
Who fucked up by treating me like absolute dirt?
Exactly.
My mom.
I'm sick of her shit. I am happy. Amazing. I'm never happy because I never have a reason to be. I went a whole summer with no friends. No social life. I was a fucking hermit. But now that I have some of the best friends in the world, and the best boyfriend, I am happy. It's too bad she can't accept that simple fact. She hates my friends. She hates my boyfriend. She hates me. And I wish she would hate herself.
In all honesty, I think she is a horrible mom.
I used to love her. I thought she was the coolest fucking mom.
No.
Fuck that.
I was infuckingsane.
Kashena and I cleaned the whole house one day. Do you know what she did? She bitched at Kashena about how to clean. "Next time you clean.. blah blah blah." She bitched at me for whatever fucking reason she could think of. Guess what. She doesn't clean at all. So why in the fuck did she bitch?
It's annoying.
I've thought about running away plenty of times. Yeah, I admit that. I would kill to get away from her for a few weeks. I just want to ship her off to another country so I could come home from hanging out with my friends to a complaining-free home. I wish I could do that. Living with her, there's no hope.
The only thing that matters to her is her.
It's sick.
We were getting along for a while. I was fucking happy. But something crawled up her ass, took a big shit, and died. I wish it would crawl the fuck back out of her ass and stay out so she could stop being a fucking bitch and be an actual happy mom.
But that's right. In her mind, "No mom can be happy living with brats their whole life."
And if you honestly expect respect from me when you're going to say that to me,
Fuck yourself.
I will not respect you if you treat me like shit.
Regardless of who you are.
My mom. My dad. My teacher. The president of the United fucking States.
I don't care who you are. You respect me, I respect you. Until then, I will continue to look at you as a disrespectful person. And you will not receive respect from me.
It's simple.
Stop being a bitch. Stoping bitching about the house being clean when your children clean 11230123412341234 times more than you ever could imagine. Stop treating your kids like dirt. And stop talking shit about my friends and me. I could talk shit about yours, and you wouldn't like it.
Just.
Give.
Me.
One.
Fucking.
Ounce.
Of.
Space.
Am.
Sick.
Of.
Being.
Your.
Child.
Coming home from a great day, just to listen to your mom bitch at you for hours is.not.fun.
That's all she knows how to do.
Does she know that it actually hurts me?
No.
She doesn't give a fuck either.
I stopped cutting.
Yippie.
Who fucked up by treating me like absolute dirt?
Exactly.
My mom.
I'm sick of her shit. I am happy. Amazing. I'm never happy because I never have a reason to be. I went a whole summer with no friends. No social life. I was a fucking hermit. But now that I have some of the best friends in the world, and the best boyfriend, I am happy. It's too bad she can't accept that simple fact. She hates my friends. She hates my boyfriend. She hates me. And I wish she would hate herself.
In all honesty, I think she is a horrible mom.
I used to love her. I thought she was the coolest fucking mom.
No.
Fuck that.
I was infuckingsane.
Kashena and I cleaned the whole house one day. Do you know what she did? She bitched at Kashena about how to clean. "Next time you clean.. blah blah blah." She bitched at me for whatever fucking reason she could think of. Guess what. She doesn't clean at all. So why in the fuck did she bitch?
It's annoying.
I've thought about running away plenty of times. Yeah, I admit that. I would kill to get away from her for a few weeks. I just want to ship her off to another country so I could come home from hanging out with my friends to a complaining-free home. I wish I could do that. Living with her, there's no hope.
The only thing that matters to her is her.
It's sick.
We were getting along for a while. I was fucking happy. But something crawled up her ass, took a big shit, and died. I wish it would crawl the fuck back out of her ass and stay out so she could stop being a fucking bitch and be an actual happy mom.
But that's right. In her mind, "No mom can be happy living with brats their whole life."
And if you honestly expect respect from me when you're going to say that to me,
Fuck yourself.
I will not respect you if you treat me like shit.
Regardless of who you are.
My mom. My dad. My teacher. The president of the United fucking States.
I don't care who you are. You respect me, I respect you. Until then, I will continue to look at you as a disrespectful person. And you will not receive respect from me.
It's simple.
Stop being a bitch. Stoping bitching about the house being clean when your children clean 11230123412341234 times more than you ever could imagine. Stop treating your kids like dirt. And stop talking shit about my friends and me. I could talk shit about yours, and you wouldn't like it.
Just.
Give.
Me.
One.
Fucking.
Ounce.
Of.
Space.