***ANGST WARNING***
just found a letter my mom wrote before she died and she basically said that everything wrong in the family was my brother's and my faults but that he was working on his problems and I wasn't and that she was afraid to say anything about any of it cause she was afraid of me. yeah, afraid...cause i said i wasn't happy at home and looked forward to getting out and somehow that equates to me hating her and not loving her anymore. then at the end she just sort of washed her hands of the whole thing and said either i'd love her or not and there was nothing she could do about any of it. i wish i knew when she wrote it, wish i knew how far back she blamed me and gave up on me.
i feel like i should feel relieved that she gave up on me and so i don't have to worry about living up to what she wanted or making her proud, cause obviously i failed a long time ago. but i don't.
i gave up everything for her, did everything she ever needed me to do, and she still thought i didn't love her.
if i could get in the car and drive forever and never look back, leave all this shit in the rearview mirror and forget, i would. f**k responsibilities. but i'm not like that so i'll just sit here and wait for the next blow to fall.
<3
ps - at least Fuzzypaws loves me :)