I guess that’s a wrap on writing about some of the biggest issues I’ve dealt with in life. I probably have a good amount more to say, but at the same time, I can write until my fingers are bloody stumps and it won’t change the reality of it all. I can just keep on carrying on and go about my life, and that’s really it. There are no interventions, there’s nothing that can be said or done to “fix” these things. Not to say they’re broken beyond repair, but maybe the people involved are. If it were up to me I would’ve reconciled with my mom a long time ago, but it’s not up to me. It never will be. And in all honesty, the longer it goes this way, the less willing I would be to change how things are. It’s better to know that I don’t matter to her than it is to assume I do and find out otherwise. Mostly I am writing these things as a release. I’m letting go of the thoughts and feelings associated. I’m giving them wings to leave me for good, to remove any doubt, and just move on with my life.

I just hope one day my sister finds a spine. Even if it’s not hers, but just to borrow it long enough to not be a fucking welcome mat. It’s the kind of weakness you don’t even pity because it’s entirely preventable. My mom needed a girl to steamroll, I guess. Boys are simply too strong-willed. She probably would’ve killed herself if the gender were flipped when she got pregnant with my sister. I know I left a bad taste in her mouth with my open defiance and disregard for toeing the line.

I’m just so tired. I want to sleep. I just woke up and chugged a monster and I’m ready for bed.