i've been indulging myself in thinking too much. thinking of memories. of past times. missing certain people.
wondering why they arent talking to me and how they let my mom get to them. even when they know what happened. i did what i did becuase i had to. i dont need to fucking clearify my reasons to you. you know what shes like. you know she likes to be mean when she starts drowning herself in that canadian mist. you know she jumps to conclusions and become paranoid and then drinks a bottle of car oil stuff and then states the next morning she didnt wanna die. you know that she pretends to have seizers and runs crazy like into the woods in the middle of the night and i have to chase her while being kicked in the face from her and then calling the ambulence.
You know i stand there with my hands in my pockets and just take the hits. i dont hit back becuase i know she doesnt mean it. i know she loves me. she just doesnt know how to show it. she just has a drinking problem. sure the punches hurt. sure the bloody noses hurt. but its ok. sure the legs hurt after chairs being thrown.
yes it hurts when she tells me she should of had an abortion and that im a piece of shit and that im the reason she drinks becuase im a horrible child. of course it hurts but she loves me.
How can you believe her when you have seen it time and time again ...her go into her rages and throw toasters, hit me with pool sticks. come on. are you blind. me and you talked about it serveral times so dont say now you dont remember what happened.
i did what i did to save my ass. i would either been beaten to death becuase i love my mother to much to hit her back or i would have killed myself to get away.
maybe i shouldnt have ran away. maybe i should have stayed. maybe i wouldnt have fucked up the family more than i already have.
its sad when your own brother wont talk to you.