Wednesday, July 15, 2015

I made one little Facebook "(My Name Here)- is" post ...

I made one little Facebook "(My Name Here)- is" post and after that sentence was written all this came out in a comment. Yesterday was seriously tough, now that I have two parents expressing the burden that my fate has made of me and that I have always been, even when I didn't exist in their life for years. I seem to have all this power that only they can see and it only hurts them as well. It's weird, but if I could really control basically everything from lost false teeth (Mom) to the loss of ones house due to non-payment (Dad, over the 16 years we didn't speak. I am powerful. ) to the loss of ones ability to do anything for themselves anymore (My moms newest thing to blame on me) or their drinking habits (still mom), or their electric usage (more mom) or their choices to take loan after loan out to fix a car that isn't worth the first loan and still doesn't run $12,000 in loans later (and more mom), than you would think I could get the fuck out of this mess and away from these people. I mean you can only blame someone else for so much when they literally either are not in your life at all or they have zero control while you hold ALL the control. It's like being an animal basically, but one no one wants. Easy to abuse. 

This addresses the last three years and a lot of what yesterday showed me about my father and not just my mother.

(The Facebook post is excluded for personal reasons. Considering that I spill my darkest side here, I bet that REALLY has you wondering what I started out writing? Not telling; let the mystery die with me. I know, I am mean.)

...And tired of being tired and all out of positives to pretend the negatives aren't so bad. And feeling guilty is old too, as is thinking non-stop and running into walls. I literally think about things like banging my face into the wall, or the mirror or punching myself so I have some visual external evidence of what it feels like internally since there is zero acknowledgement that I am human anymore and feel pain and have emotions.  
   
LOL.    
                                                                                                 
Not joking but there is a certain amount of humor in the process of losing ones sanity/grip, dontcha think? It starts out kind of chaotic and messy then there is a sweet spot that is rather beautiful where you gain a whole lot of wisdom no one gets or cares about except you and then you hit where I am now, which is really reverting back to early childhood when you would do anything to be seen and heard before you give up and let go of everything you have learned about 'controlling ones self,' and you fall to floor and let go of every bit of composure and obedience drilled into to you up to that point... and you scream and yell and plead and (as an adult reverting back) reason, until you just stop and realize the facts.  They don't care. They will never care. You were not born to them for any other purpose than to fill a void momentarily or as a tool to manipulate or as in my case both. As soon as you became a liability or a burden, or too tall and skinny and gawky to take anywhere, or too independent or too broken or just 'in the way,' etc etc, you seize to exist. When you can no longer serve their purposes or be there for them in just exactly the way they demand YOU BECOME WORTHLESS. NOTHING and the new villain in their stories. Even in nothingness they find a way to abuse your memory. And even with all that you tell them that you love them and ask them if they love you at all? Screaming, begging for an answer only to get "I suppose if I dig deep enough..." and then the awesome throw back of "I know it's all my fault. Everything is my fault." Because the answer to that is, "Yes, it is your fault for not growing up and for having a child you had no intention of caring for and for being a selfish shithead of a parent," but instead you reply the same shit we all say, "Did I say that? No, I didn't say that. YOU said that." And the message never gets through and nothing is ever resolved and you lay there exhausted and wet from sweat and tears and blood and no one else notices or cares. 

I swear someday I will find access to tools to record this shit to prove I am not making it up. Of course I shouldn't have to prove anything to anyone but I've been forced to do it my entire life so why not now? At least this is to support my words rather than prove my innocence. Or maybe this is the programmed me thinking I should do what I have been doing to defend myself? Yes, true. But, also, this is the kind of shit people never believe really happens or is said in reality. The insanity of some of it could be quite comical if it weren't me being the target, or any human being or feeling thing. 

Yeah.

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