Hey Mom, guess what?
Fuck you.
Let me tell you something about my mother. She's an annoying ass rat and I'm probably going to go to hell for saying this, but I don't know, I don't care. I hate her guts.
Okay, so my mom gets angry when I don't clean the dining. Okay, no biggie, moms do that. Then she shouts and insults me for hours on end. I get pissed, but keep my insults in my head. Whatever, okay? It's not like I'm the only one it's happened to. Then she slaps me and gets a belt or whatever, "discipline" right? And okay, fine, once in a while great, teach me a fucking lesson. But that's all you know how to do, fucking shout and insult and beat and that's it. Then you do it some more when I say I hate you.
Great parenting you got there. And you wonder, 'What's wrong with you?'
Just so happens to be everything. I'd like to blame you because I'd like to blame someone, but God knows it's all me. Doesn't stop me from hating, though.
Because you know what mom, you can say, that even with my 3.8 GPA that I'm stupid, but please realize that I must have gotten that stupidity gene from someone, you or dad. Settle it amongsts yourselves please. And you know, I recently got an email concerning the final stages of my scholarship money, and it was sent to my dad & her. My dad couldn't view it on his Blackberry, but my mom was on her laptop and refused to open her email while frowning.
About that email though, apparently I didn't even get it, which means I am a failure. I was so certain about it, even. So I cut and cut again for yesterday, at Z's get together for her birthday. I ate too much. Less than most people, but too much.
I wanted to clean it up but got distracted, so my mom saw some blood and my scarred wrists. They're only scarred, I stopped cutting there a while ago, so I told her I must have fallen. But she said no, that they were too straight and only on my right hand, so it must be a razor. I said no, but apparently she'll ask anyone if they have a cut tomorrow morning, which I say she'll forget.
