I hear Mom and her never-ending complaints and I just want to scream. My brain knows, it knows,
that she is sick, but I just cannot separate the sickness from a
lifetime of complaining. She was never happy. I know that, as well.
But, the non-stop gripes and arguing and bitching, are wearing me out.
I
grew up in a household where nothing was ever good enough. Everyone could do it better. No matter
what I did, or felt, I was ridiculed and made to feel unworthy. So, Mom's
litany of complaints that start off that I haven't fed her in days, followed by nastiness that she
never asked for the food that she is then served, followed by accusations that I am trying to
starve her, are just too much. And the many other complaints, are
effecting me in ways that I can't seem to stop. They are reaffirming that
feeling of worthlessness that I have spent a lifetime overcoming.
Her
dissatisfaction with everything I do is like a virus. It is spreading
to all parts of my life. I have begun believing that I can do nothing
right. I look for the disappointment in the people around me. And I
see it every where. And I know that I am seeing what isn't there
but I see it nonetheless. Again, I am a 13 year old girl unworthy of
anything positive. Again, I avoid the mirror because I don't like what I
see.
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