Stone Walls
07-28-2010 Wednesday
Talking to my mother has become similar to talking to a huge brick. Not only that, there seem to be an invisible wall around her that blocks any human thoughts, feelings or emotions. I wonder if it's still part of her being Bipolar or it could also be possible that for some strange reason, my real mother has been replaced by this walking stone statue. Where did my biological mother go? Did she die without us knowing?
I always expect some miracle whenever I would go home. I'm always hoping to see her back on her feet, walking, talking, taking care of the house chores just like a regular mother would. But, she never fails to disappoint me. The more I see her failing me and my gramma, the more I'm hating her. Now, my hate is to the point that I no longer have any sympathy towards her. I no longer blame her sickness for this, I blame her and her weakness. She's letting herself be defeated, actually from the looks of it, I can tell that she has already given up.
To be honest, I couldn't care less about her. If you ask me what my decision for her would be, I'll say I want to throw her away in some rehabilitation center, and let some volunteer take care of her, at least those volunteers would probably not care if she'll do nothing but sleep all fucking day. The reason why I couldn't do that is because of my gramma who still cares a lot about her. My gramma who's also hoping to see her fully recover. My gramma who's doing all the hardwork in the house, covering up her lazy fucking ass.
Our family has been through a lot. It has created a damage inside me but this is nothing compared to the pain that my gramma has endured throughout the years. If there's someone in our family that deserves a happy ending, it's my gramma. She has sacrificed a lot for us, she's got the strongest and most compassionate heart out of anyone I've ever known.
That's why it pisses me the most to think that my gramma does all the hardwork in the house while my mother does nothing but be a fucking stone. I am home today and I woke up to the sound of my gramma crying in the bathroom while she does the laundry. She's tired of our situation, she's tired of having to do everything, she's tired of seeing my mother give up and be defeated by the sickness over and over.
I went to the laundry to comfort her. I talked to her, asked her what she wanted to do with my mother. I told her that if my mother is not gonna change before August ends, then I'm gonna have to kick her ass back to the rehab and we'll live here together, the two of us, plus my cats and Damien. I told her to not worry about me, I'm fine with working, I only want her to be able to get some rest, take a break from all the hardwork she's doing, but with my lazy mom around, that's far from being possible.
She decided to talk to my mom, while I'm in the house. The stone moved from it's original position in the seat outside, sat on the floor near the door and froze. My gramma did the talking. I stared at the person I still call mom, wondering if she'll feel cold to my hands if I touch her. After my gramma was done talking, she asked her what she plans to do with her life. One of them has to get a job. She's still sick, so yeah fine, my gramma said she's willing to work, if in return, my mom will do all the chores in the house, from cooking to cleaning then she asked if my mom could think of anything else to do.
I almost exploded when I heard my mom respond
"What else is there to do?"I bit my lip to keep myself from shouting obscenities at her. If I didn't stop myself, I could've shouted different kinds of curses at her, and I would've probably grab her around the neck, and just choke her to death. Maybe that will bring some sense back into her little rotting brain.
What's with that question, what else is there to do? Lemme tell you, you li'l lazyass bitch, A LOT. Like shall we start with you getting a job? Or, or if not, then maybe be a mother to me even for once? Ohh wait, I got a better idea, why not start with sewing yourself back together, you crazy bitch?I didn't shout..I stopped myself in time. I told her she needs to think about what she needs to do. If I don't get a clear answer before my scheduled unpaid leave, then I'm gonna have to bring my gramma with me to Manila and she can find a way to live on her own. It sounded harsh, even to my own ears but I don't care. I want her to understand that I mean what I'm saying. If she's not gonna help herself, then, I'm not gonna help her. I'm done trying to understand a person who don't even understand her own self.
I'm the bad daughter, yes I am.The conversation ended with no valid response from the statue. I wonder where I got the strength to hold back the words I wanna blurt out to her face. I'm usually not good at keeping my mouth shut. I guess I'm just concerned that she'll go crazybitch on us if I did say the things in my head. I'd rather deal with a stone than a bitch-gone-crazy episode of her.
She's officially insane. I'm officially the foe. We're a happy family, aren't we? Lalalalala..
Labels: ANGER, BITCH. mother, daughter, family, fury, HATE, pink crimson
Fakin' It
10-19-2009 Monday
It all boils down to this: I'm not mistaken. The bitch really did fake her 'illness'. I am so pissed when she got home from the doctor and she's like, 'Oh they found nothin' wrong, I just have to take some pain reliever whenever my head would ache' and I'm like, 'did I hear you right? Nothing is wrong? After all the scan and dialysis they did to your motherfucking head, nothing is wrong??', wow, that's just great.
The bitch wasted a week trying to be sick instead of trying to find a job or trying to do the chores at home.I am waiting for something like, 'Oh they found a tumor in my head and I'm gonna die in a week or so'. Why do bitches have to live such a long, worthless lives? That's still a freaking mystery to me, aside from thinking how the fuck can she still go home safe, or how can she still wake up after hours and hours of sleep.
All I said to her is 'So you're not sick that's good to hear. Anything the doctor said you shouldn't do? Or anything you shouldn't eat? Are you not allowed to be tired or to perspire?' She said, 'I told you nothing's wrong so why would the doctor forbid me to do anything, what are you trying to say?' and I non-chalantly replied, 'Uhh, nothing..just wondering why you're still not doing anything, that's it'. I stood up, checked my image in the mirror and I left the house before the bitch could say anything else.
While riding the jeepney on my way to the bank to get the replacement ATM card, I'm still thinking about how the bitch can still live each day as if we have all the money in the world and she didn't need to work or start doing something.It's really irritating me to see her every fucking day doing nothing. I wouldn't have any problem with that if we have a maid to do all the chores at home or if we are filthy rich that we don't have to do anything to get whatever it is we wanted.But that's not the case in our household. We all have to do our fair share of hardwork and labor to be able to survive each day. We're the typical average family who has limited budget on everything, groceries, rent, bills and other stuff.
There are even times when we really have nothing left days before payday and that's the worst part because there's me and my gramma, whacking our brains just to come up with funds to help us get through till payday, all this while my bitch of a mother stares at the TV, indulging herself on another late night bullshit show. That's the biggest problem with that bitch. She could've cared less if we eat nothing as long as she don't miss an episode on her favorite TV shows.
Now that the results are in, and obviously she's not sick or dying, I'm back to my original plan of trying to find a room for rent, and if I can't before this week ends, then I have to go with my last option of staying with my perfectionist aunt for awhile.
Labels: aunt, BITCH. mother, daughter, pink crimson, rent
This is How MUCH I HATE you
10-07-2009 Wednesday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BITCH. I SURE HOPE IT'S YOUR LAST.Go guess who this post is for. Nope. Guess again.. Nope.. Guess
again.. Ahh fuck off. Blahblah, bitch.
Labels: birthday, BITCH. mother, BITCH. pink crimson, daughter
Mother For Sale
10-05-2009 Monday
I've spent a good amount of my time, crying last night, crying, cursing and wishing so damn hard that I never had a mother at all. What's the use if your so-called mother doesn't act even half of what a mother should be like.
I've visited a couple of friends whose mothers are hardworking not just only in their chosen job but also in the house chores. I've seen what mothers are like from other people. Kind, generous, loving, and willing to sacrifice oneself if that's what it takes to give their child a good life, or just to make sure that their child will grow filled with love instead of hate.
Sadly, that isn't what I have at home. Instead of a hardworking mom, I am stuck with a lazyass bitch who doesn't even know if I'm still being treated fair at work, or still eating the right food three times a day. I don't know but I really hate her so bad it makes me sick to even think that I'm related to her. Like, I seriously wish if she wouldn't change to be a better mother then she'd rather be off dead and gone.
To be honest, right now, as I'm typing this, I'm no longer wishing to be rich, or to have my own house, or to have a lot of things, all I wanted is to be happy and alone with my gramma. I'll trade everything that I have now, just to have a simple kind of happiness. No headaches, no stress, nothing. Just live simple, with my gramma who is the only family I have.
My mom wasn't like that before. Sometimes, I am thinking if, by any chance, my real mother was swallowed by this woman and she's somehow, still inside this woman's belly, wanting to come out and be my mother again. Is that possible? Or am I just hallucinating now because of too much hatred? That's the only explanation, even though it's a bit insane-no,it's really insane, that seemed to be the only thing that makes sense to me now.
I've given up on her, I've given up on trying to be a good, and understanding daughter. It's too frustrating and I'm tired of waiting for her to change and be back to what she was before. I know that to most people I look like I'm the worst kind of daughter who ever walked this earth, but it's their opinion, well, it must be the truth, hell, I don't really care anymore!
Is there anyone out there who needs a mother? Here's my mother, you can have her, please, just take her away and I'll greatly appreciate it.
Labels: ANGER, BITCH. mother, daughter, FURY FUCK, HATE, pink crimson, sick
