NationStates Jolt Archive

I posted this rant on my Xanga (http://www.xanga.com/skytowerpoet) today... because today is Thanksgiving, and I have to go, which I don't want to do... but if I don't go home, my 'rents will have a nervous breakdown and quite possibly throw me in a woodchipper. They'll assume that when I come home for Christmas, I'll only be going for the presents, which is half-true, because they're stupid jerks, who if you'll recall, kicked me out of their house for learning how to drive on my own.


So, I go home tomorrow. 10 a.m. is the magical time dad's picking me up... and this is the e-mail Marti sent me to tell me this:

Melissa:

Your father, Bill, will pick you up around 10-ish. Someone will call you when he leaves and is on his way.

M

"Your father, Bill?" You got to be kidding me, right, lady? I KNOW WHO MY FUCKING FATHER IS... this Thanksgiving is going to be the GREATEST. I can't fucking wait. Woohoo! * rolls eyes *

(Seriously, if I have to stay there all day, I'm going to kill myself by sticking my head in the oven with the fucking turkey... oh, wait, we're having ham.)

I dread time I spent at home, because it inevitably leads to some sort of discussion as to why Melissa = Anti-Christ, and I'm sick of it. Completely sick of it. Over the last day or so, I've had to listen to my step-mom bi0tch about how Christina (my sister for those of you not keep track) hates me, has stuff to work out with me, etc. etc. etc... Well, y'know, what, sis? GO TO FUCKING THERAPY! If you're so diluted by my influence on you, do something about it, ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS. I'm sick of believing she harbors friendly, loving, feelings towards me whenever everyone else in my family tells me otherwise, so, y'know what family: FUCK OFF! Think I can't tell from that damn e-mail that something's up? She told me yesterday, after I talked to Christina on the phone, that Christina has something to talk to me about. I don't care. What part of that doesn't anyone get? Christina needs to live her own God damned life and stop blaming me for her social outcast status, bubble-induced, brainwashing my 'rents have spurned on her. Especially when lately Marti's been signing her e-mails with such salutations as "take care," "see you Thursday," or "have a good one." I'm so sick of them being assholes to me, well, mostly through my wicked stepmother. I really am, and y'know? I really don't want to go home tomorrow, but I will, because I still believe that someday I'll have a family... IT'S A LIE. It's the biggest lie I've ever told myself and held onto with all my life, and I still believe it to this day, even though I should know better. Tomorrow'll just be another reminder of why I live here, they live there, and why I'll never have a family... and I'm still subjecting myself to their rejection.

Anyways, so, this begs the question... is it wrong to hate your family when they treat you so horribly?

I worked retail for more years than I want to count and came to this conclusion having worked every Thanksgiving and Christmas during that period:

People travel hundreds of miles to be with people only to realize why they moved hundreds of miles away in the first place.

Whatever. Family sometimes seems like people you have to be nice to because they fed you for a while because if they didn't someone would have arrested them.

I have a hard time bitching about my childhood, though. I had race cars, pretty much nullifies a lot of complaining I can do. That being said, just because they raised you doesn't mean they have any understanding of you, which can get frustrating. Which is why you move away. And get jobs that are open on holidays, so you can say, "Ah, man-I have to work." And fuck the presents. It's just swag with baggage. I hate getting things from people I'm uncomfortable with. Hell, I hate getting presents from people I'm comfortable with. I've never been comfortable with getting presents in general. I don't mind giving them, just getting them.

I posted this rant on my Xanga (http://www.xanga.com/skytowerpoet) today... because today is Thanksgiving, and I have to go, which I don't want to do... but if I don't go home, my 'rents will have a nervous breakdown and quite possibly throw me in a woodchipper. They'll assume that when I come home for Christmas, I'll only be going for the presents, which is half-true, because they're stupid jerks, who if you'll recall, kicked me out of their house for learning how to drive on my own.




Anyways, so, this begs the question... is it wrong to hate your family when they treat you so horribly?

No,it's not wrong to hate them when you've a reason. I hate people who say "you can't/shouldn't hate your family", or that your parents do their best they can for you. Those ones who say such don't want to accept the fact that there are people out there who have failed miserably as parents, or siblings, or never even cared to try. In a way,I suppose they want to naively think that all families are picture perfect. The truth is, there are a lot of families out there that aren't so great...but there are also some great ones out there.