voidfkedup

[voidfkedup]

tw: domestic abuse, narcissist parents, atheism

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Sometimes I feel like I might be a bad daughter. Sometimes I wish to be born on a different family, or not even been born at all. 

But I wouldn't have the people that I care about. Maybe I would have better friends if so, who knows. 

I don't know why she's so angry at me. Of course, we all have bad days and the last thing that we need is someone to say the wrong thing before you snap. 

But it doesn't excuse to grab my hair and press my head against the kitchen counter, or the wall of my bedroom. 

While I do understand and appreciate the things she did for me, the things she had to go through during her life to raise me. Obviously I do, but it doesn't excuse when she raises her hand at me when I have a different opinion from her. 

I'm not gay, even as hard as it is to like man when all they ever do is flaunt to each others and cheat. I'm not trans, and I actually do feel very comfortable in being a woman, aside from the annoying periods. But it doesn't give me any peace of mind when she tell me that I dress or act too mainly, demanding an answer she already know out of me, saying that she can fix it with a good beat up. 

I cried and was hurt because of that. Not because I am, but for the fact that even if I was, she wouldn't accept me. That it was only another thing for her to become violent about. 

I'm sorry that she's on a rough path of her marriage with the step-douche, but yet again, it's too hard to live under the same roof as her, where you don't have the permission to do your own thing without her criticizing. 

Pushing me to tell him that I miss him, I hope he comes back soon. Tell him that she is a strong and a good woman, that she had battled for everything and she's my role model. That I want to be just like her when I grow up. 

I don't. I don't miss him, he's an asshole most times than don't, but he never let her raise her hand at me — at least when he was around. She can be a good person, to others. And she can be a good mother when she wants, but like we always say, the bad things overshine the good ones. 

Because nothing can erase when you threw me out of the house with nothing but a bra and shorts. Nothing can erase the headlock she put me on and the despair I felt when you left me like that almost passing out without air entering my body. And right after that demanding me to clean the scratches that drew blood I made on your arm while I was fighting to breathe. That I am the guilty one because I didn't tell him the things you wanted me to. 

He knows it would've been fake. But it wouldn't matter any way, because the moment he opened his mouth to tell her to stop asking me to say things, she would also get mad at me for not being convincing enough. 

This marriage is in ruins not because of me. It's because she can't control herself. 

Guiltripping me, saying that I'm a bad daughter, that I don't have enough empathy for you. That I rather focus on my studies to pass my last year of university, and stating she wouldn't let me do my test, and she would break my wrist as a way to prove herself. 

Telling me I'm ungrateful, she gives me everything and I give her nothing in return. That I'm always cold, never asks how she's doing, how she feels. Never tells her anything. That I lack God in my heart.

I wonder why…

Telling me that my father left us to starve, when I had talked personally to his lawyer and she has proof that my mother is lying, and my dad never left us in any state of need. 

But the way she tells me, it's like it's true. And yet again, I don't remember anything from my childhood. All the memories when I was in between 4 to 11 are more than gone. 

And my father knows all about it. He's always the one in shit talking her every chance he gets. He's always telling me to tell him when she does it, that he will do something about it. 

It's all bark and no bite. 

Because if so, he wouldn't let the step-bitch walk over me. And even if he did get me out of here, he doesn't have anywhere for me to be. His other kids took over my old room, I had no space there. 

Too much for being “the one he loves the most”, huh?

My grandparents do nothing but defend my mother's actions when she does that. And the paternal ones are dead. I don't have a space there, either.

I don't have money, I can't find a job, I can't pass an internship. My friends, even of how much they may love and care about, wouldn't be able to help me either way. The last time, it got so much worse.

I have nowhere to be. 

I can only stay in this god forsaken house, hoping that tomorrow will be better than today. 

But even with all of this, I can't help but feel like I'm a bad daughter. That I could've done something better. Even if I know that nothing would be good enough. 

I'm just very tiring.

I do have trouble believing in a God, when my entire life I had to go through this. Brcause how good a God can be when he let this happen to me, and let bad and worse things happen to many others. What a shit God there is, then…

Because why she keeps winning, getting everything she wants when I have to live this misery bullshit. 

That's just not fair. But then again, that's how the world is, right? The bad always get what they want. 

#mommy issues #rant post #personal rant #spilled thoughts #daddy issues