Somehow everything is always my fault, no matter what it is. Somehow its my fault, and I deserved it when I was attacked by my own mom and physcially scarred for it. Somehow its my fault I took a 2 year gap after my masters degree to recover from depression and bulimia, all things which they contributed. Somehow its my fault for not wanting to see nor interact with the family. That its my fault when they talk shit to me either behind my back, or to my face. Then it's my fault for not "proving them wrong".
Its always absolutely wrong when I get defensive when I'm completely misrepresented. Its my fault for getting angry over my vulnerability and insecurities being used against me at every opportunity. And after all that, I'm this piece of shit of a bum for planning of cutting them all off when I have the means, and have no intentions for being the retirement plan my parents expect from me. Is it a fucking wonder that to this day I have all this bitterness and anger. No one will truly get me.