Saturday, March 26, 2011

It Might Be Official

I think a nrevous breakdown is immenent.  I do not know how much longer I can keep up this (well it was) benign facade.  I just yelled at my sister and my father is feeding my family such horseshit that she said I sounded like drug addict.  Perhaps a more logical and correct "sound" is that I need, want desperately desire help.  My dad dumped my sister that I barely know here on my doorstep for me to save.  I cannot do this.  I can barely keep up with my own children and now I am supposed to save another that was destroyed by her gaurdian and who, by the way, was fed with a fucking silver spoon in her mouth, with additives and perservatives that I will never enjoy in my life.  She has traveled the world, gone to elect schools, wears expensive makeup and has encountered prestigious and famous people.  I have not lived at all compared to all that.  I have lived, eaten, bathed and fucked in rat hole where I will die.  I am supposed to take care of her and show how "the real world" I suppose but in reality I am breaking down into tiny bits.  Like a movie I saw when I was a little girl where a woman got into a car crash and her face and body fell into little tiny pieces all over the car floor.  That's me.  I have no one.  I know Adam doesnt love me.  I know no one will hold me straight when my back breaks.  And I have to take care of another as though I am Jesus the Christ himself.  I cried to my dad, told him I couldn't do it, that I am too private, that I need to take care of my children, that I am on parole, that it means one  of my kids won't have a bedroom, that I am an emotional fucking TRAINWRECK and yet she is dumped on my doorstep and smiles while she waves bye bye to daddy poo who left her here. 
I will not talk to my father when this is over.  She might be here for years.  I will attempt to lie in my bed and find solace in dreams and made up fantasies or maybe I will zone out on the drugs my sister thinks I am on and waste away while my sister eats my food and greases up my kitchen floor. 
I hope this ends soon.  If I ask her to leave I will be demonized, cruel and heartless.  I think that may be who I wish I were right now. 

1 comment:

  1. I'd give her so many chores she couldn't wait to leave. ;) Maybe that's just me.

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