You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you what you get...

...you get away from me...

how sucky is it, that at the ripe old age of 29, I still can't make peace with my momma?

"For your sake, I hope heaven and hell are really there, but I wouldn't hold my breath. You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?"

How appropriate...

I hate the fact that the prospect of spending a day with them makes my insides twist and squirm, my skin shrink like it's a dress that's two sizes too small, but I just gotta fit in the damn thing. Gotta keep the mouth shut, can't talk too much, too loud, don't drink that beer, they'll think you're an alcoholic (which, was actually a fairly funny conversation), along with being the heathen irresponsible momma who don't take her kids to church, who is just a fucking weirdo that we all tolerate, because she'll eventually stop running away from god and us, and come BACK. How do you deal with that, when what they want, it doesn't exist, it never did, I just stopped pretending, and put on a different outfit, so they'd stop asking to see that old dress? That dress was just something my mother draped me in, like a paper doll...

I ain't NO FUCKING DOLL.

What I am, is a little drunk, a little weepy, a little angry at myself, for letting them do this to me, over and over and over again, and furious that who I am, just isn't enough. It's never enough. I could cure AIDS, diseases, poverty, world hunger, and bring about world peace, but if I'm not going to church, and praising her god, it's all ashes in her mouth.

I'm so damn tired. I can't cut them out, maybe it's because I'm a fucking coward (entirely possible), and not that I just can't break her heart, it's been broken by so many people, over so many years, so many losses, she's just a shell that was filled with religon and bibles, and jesus...Maybe it's that I'm afraid of what she'll say about ME....the daughter who was never quite good enough, never quite athletic enough, never thin enough, never quite enough like my older brother, never thick enough,never pushed enough, never quite lived up to projected expectations...

just not quite enough, off by a hair, but if you'd just...

fill in the blank.

work out more
work harder
stop fighting
figure out why you're so angry (make no mistake about it folks, I'm one pissed off broad)

So, instead, I'll finish up making the pumpkin cheesecake, go to bed, get up tomorrow, dress, go over to my parent's house, and listen while my mother finds a way to flay the skin off my back without breaking a sweat, cracking a nail, or wearing off her bright red lipstick. Then I'll go home, get drunk, and wish I was still young enough to pull off a nice bathroom flagellation, and scrub the skin until it falls off in defeat, and all that's left is new skin, shinny and red, ready for the next round.

join the club: drreid-blockston@cavtel.net