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27 April 2009 @ 06:04 pm
FUUUUUCK.  
So, I just got torn a new one the minute my gramma walked in the fucking door (after being gone for a week, mind you).   Apparently, I'm a tattletale (LOL -- I haven't heard that one since 1st grade) because I made an offhanded comment to my sister that my gramma's been feeding her overweight dog people food, even though Lara has continuously asked her not to do it.  It gets all twisted.  I eventually get angry because she's yelling at me and calling me a traitor and cursing at me and all of this shit.  She's said I'm not her friend anymore and that I need to get out of her house.  I don't do anything, blah blah blah.  All she does is pay for me.  Then Lara got home and it got into a bigger mess, and she's the only one that's fucking yelling and cursing and foaming at the mouth.  Over what?  NOTHING.  I swear, she must be fucking insane.  She spends hundreds and hundreds of dollars at Dollar Tree and Kroger and Walgreens every month.  She doesn't even pay the bills.  Then she wonders why my grandpa can't stretch the money far enough to get them out of debt.  She doesn't even buy anything that can make a meal.  She buys fucking cookies and ice cream and like... 20 things of cinnamon rolls that eventually have to be frozen 'cause no one else fucking eats them.  There is NOTHING in our fridge right now except leftovers from the meals I  made, milk, five tubs of butter, some pies, and some old ass lunchmeat.  Whenever I try to make something, she bitches about it, too.  Even when all of the costs come out of mine and Alec's pockets.  Nothing's good enough for her.  Her cooking sucks.  It's bland and greasy and congealed, and there's nothing else to eat, anyway.  And she wonders why we eat out all of the time!  It's honestly better for us than the cabinet explosions she comes up with.

And for the record, I've worked my fucking ass off since she's been gone.  I've cooked delicious rounded meals, I've cleaned up after myself and everyone else's mess, I've walked the dogs and played with them, I've done laundry.  I've done everything WITH NO HELP.  I do everything she asks when she's here, too.  I'm her little errand boy.  And I'm so fucking tired of it.  There's no talking to her.  Everything's a conflict.  Everything's a finger pointed at her.  I've loaned her more than a thousand dollars over the past year, and I didn't throw it in her face once.  Why?  Because I'm grateful that I have a place to stay. But it's getting ridiculous.  And she treats me like shit, then expects me to kiss her old wrinkly in-denial ass.  She thinks everyone's out to get her, and that's not the fucking truth.  She fucking flies off the handle threatening suicide and all this other shit.  It's astonishing.  Yet I'm a monster and a degenerate and I'm stupid bitch and all this other.

She needs help, and her doctors don't seem to care and/or notice.  Probably 'cause she's nicer to them than she is to her own flesh and blood.

I don't know why I even try to pick myself back up.  I just end up getting kicked back down into my place.

 
 
feeling like:: pissed offpissed off
 
 
 
nteg8tiondenydnteg8tiondenyd on April 28th, 2009 04:48 am (UTC)
that's not your place