hate being alive
I don’t get what my mom’s fucking problem is. Lately, it’s been constant taunts. I’m overweight, and she never misses a chance to remind me of it. It’s my holidays, I help her around the house, yet she’s still never satisfied with anything I do. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore, so stop blaming my anger on “hormones.”
I watch CID, and somehow that’s a problem too. According to her, it’s “changing my mindset.” Out of anger, she’s called me “randi” not once, not twice, but three times. Unapologetically.
Am I not a human too?
If she spills something and I happen to be nearby, suddenly it’s my fault. If I lie in bed for a few minutes, that’s a problem too. I hate college. I hate home. Where am I even supposed to go?
No one’s gonna understand me.
And then I heard my dad say, “It’s better if she just goes away married.”
Wow.