AKA "You're Faking It" Month! AKA "Your Problems Aren't Real" Month! AKA "My Problems are the Only Ones that Matter" Month!
Yeah. Can you tell I'm down on this bullshit month? Like, seriously. It's so fucking stupid. Hey, let's dedicate a month to those people who "think" their lives are so bad, and make them believe we care!!!
Yeah. Fuck you. That's what I say.
I'm not faking it. I contemplated suicide only five and a half weeks ago. I laid in bed, 5 in the morning, and I thought to myself "Huh. I should just do it."
Thankfully I didn't, because my son came to live with me full time shortly after.
Do you know???? Do you KNOW how guilty it makes a parent feel? Seriously. Fuck you. Fuck off. I find out, finally, that my son has been getting verbally and mentally abused by his father. Like... WHAT THE FUCK! How did I not know this? I'm the worst mom ever. I should just kill myself.
Nope. I can't do that. I won't do that. Know why? Because of him. My angel son. My love. The greatest thing in my life. The reason I am alive. My angel son.
My problems ARE real. So get off your high horse. Fuck off. Or fuck the horse. No, don't do that. That's gross. And weird. And maybe illegal? So, please don't do that. But DO fuck off.
I was molested when I was a kid. That shit stays with you. Especially when it's the late 80s or early 90s and the cops are all... Meh... Let's see if he touches you again. Then MAYBE we'll do something about it.
I was picked on. No, bullied. All through school. Grade 4 to Grade 11. Grade 12 was okay, though, because the Bitches had graduated. So it wasn't terrible. But still. Eight straight years of bullying. Fuck off. Be nice. It really is that simple.
I was raped when I was 19. Let's not get into that piece of shit.
After being raped, and molested, and bullied, I was worthless. Or at least I felt worthless. So... Hello abusive relationship! Hello broken nose! Hello butcher knives tossed at my head!
Fuck that piece of shit, too.
Finally, I left. After 11 years! Happy almost anniversary to me! Three years free! Well, never free. Obviously.
Last but not least...
THIS is directed at one person, and one person ONLY. Not sure he'll ever read this or not, but I honestly don't GIVE A FUCK ANYMORE.
Your problems matter. Yes. They do. And I was always there to listen. And I was ALWAYS FUCKING THERE FOR YOU!!!!!! But guess what? My problems matter, too! You are not the only person in the fucking world with mental health issues!
Maybe I've never been hospitalized. That doesn't mean they don't matter. So fuck you, hope you have a wonderful life, stay out of mine, because I'm better off without you. I have friends who actually care about me, and don't just use me like you did for 3 FUCKING YEARS. I mean, I'm stupid for putting up with it. But you're even more stupid, because I'm tired of your shit, and everyone else will eventually tire of your shit, and soon, you'll be all by yourself. Because your problems are the ONLY ones that matter. Soon, very soon, Karma will bite you in the ass. Even more than she already has!
#endrant
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