Zander's Place

June 4, 2008

If my mother could read this, I would intentionally add bits of erotica involving trannies and nontrans people and just do whatever to make her uncomfortable and regret reading this. If she could read this, that would mean she cracked my password on my computer. That's not okay.

But if she were to read through other stuff, she would read things that I cannot communicate because she will not listen. It could go one of three ways. She could read it and assume I was broadcasting it to the world to envoke pity upon myself. She could ignore it and deny having gone through my shit like she always had done when I was under her roof. And the last, but highly unlikely possibility, some inner voice could finally tell her to shut the fuck up for once and actually look at whatever she was reading.

I'm not sure she would like what I had to say, considering I'm bitter over all the unresolved bullshit she put me through, and all the shit she made me carry from her childhood through my childhood.

If my mother could read this... it's likely her brain would be working trying to figure out how to make it seem like I was the unfair one. And I'm not saying she was unfair because she wouldn't let me sleep over at someone's house once, or I got grounded for not doing my homework. She was unfair because she looked to me to process her shit when I was three years old, going into some detail over how her step father beat her daily and made her little sister watch, or how her teachers used to hang her students up by their shirts in the coat room for having the audacity to ask to use the bathroom.

I was three years old, God dammit. I had to sit and watch my parents drunk and fighting every single night, and be used as a fucking shield so maybe my dad wouldn't finally snap and hit my mom. And THEN I had to play fucking therapist and sympathize and take on the guilt of my mother's traumatic life and I'M the one being unfair because in this writing I am calling her on it.

Fuck that.

You know what? Okay, your step dad abused you, Mom. I'm not sure of all the details, but I don't want to ask because I already know but don't want to. That really fucking sucks that you've been through that. And it sucks that your whole life has been filled with emotionally abusive men, and possibly drug dealers who used your body when you couldn't pay them for coke. That fucking sucks and for what it's worth, I'm sorry that happened to you but you really need to stop fucking martyring yourself and spilling all this shit so you can manipulate your already-vulnerable child, you fucking douchebag.

I don't even like apologizing for your life. I don't. I fucking hate needing to do it, when it's obvious I don't need to because I obviously wasn't there... but I still need to. Even if you already made peace with Grandpa on his death bed. Hell, for all I know, you probably watched him in agony. I don't know if he made up for what he did. But some sort of closure happened because you came home crying.

You're such a fucking victim and you love it. You claim that you clashed with Dad because he was too controlling and you're clashing with your boyfriend because he's an asshole and you're too independant for them. No you're not. You could never survive if you had to be by yourself. You could never survive if you didn't have a partner who treated you like shit. That's why you only went on two dates with that guy Tom. He was a nice guy, Mom. He would have treated you right and the idea of that pissed you off because then you wouldn't have a reason to bitch about how he's such a dick to you for no reason.

If my mother could read this, she would be screaming at my computer screen. Of course, she would be arguing against everything I've typed here and, hey, I could be wrong about some things because I'm not 100% sure that Tom would have treated her well. That's how she likes her men. She wants to be a princess and be wined and dined for a bit, and then have them lose their cool the minute they find out that she's self-centered and royally fucked up. And yet, for some reason they all put up with her. Trying to break her into something that doesn't fight back when they yell at her over something. But gentlemen, she will always fight and always argue because she is never wrong, she has it harder than anyone else on the planet, nobody understands pain except her.

If my mother could read this she would break my fingers one by one for typing this. If she managed to read the whole thing and that would scare her because a small part of her would know that, for once, I might just be right about something.