I hate my mother.
I hate how weak she is. How sick, and wrong, and lost, and cruel, and sad, and,
such a fucking sadistic manipulative bitch.

I hate that whatching her life spiral out of control-
feels like a flash into the future of my own.

I cannot argue with her because its like argueing with myself.
Mothers shouldnt tell their daughters the things she does.

and she plays the victem constantly. like im wronging her,
its my fault, she is inoccent. but im supposed to be the fucking kid.
grow up, bitch! you feel like a falure of a parent because you are.

The brief times when you are calm, supportive, and stable...
if you dont see the payoffs you give up.
switch back to this additure where their is no way to reason with you.
you are on constant defense.
I dont feel safe with you. emotionally you are more fucked up than I am.

But I feel guilty because she has cancer.
my mother could die, and this would be the last of it.
When I get mad I think unspeakable things.
I think how much easier, and less painful my life might be...
if she wasnt in it. :/

If I wasnt in my life.
If everyone could just die.