The Weekend

What would you expect my blog to say about my weekend?  That it was phenomenal?  Oh yes, it was super.  I found out that Adam was two timing me the whole time(golly, who knew?  I mean could anyone have predicted that he might not be a faithful man?).  It was traumatic.  Then Holden was lost (the neighbors gratuitously took him to church and I had to call the police because I had no clue).  Max drank poison.  Lucky he was fine and no true symptoms of pain other than "ow,,ow..ow".  Pretty much maxed out the super shit lever on the grid.  More later. 

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.