Meet the raging reject

 

My Mikey, I love you

∞ • π³ + 1

 

My font color and I match, about now.  Mikey just got off the phone with Elisabeth.  It’s the first time we’ve heard a peep from her in a while.

I’m an awful parent.  I know we should call Elisabeth sometimes, but I honestly have no desire to, anymore.  I extended myself so many times in the beginning, and she took my hand, then turned it and slapped me in my face with it.  Now, she can reach out.  I won’t make her slap herself.  I’ll probably beg for a hug.

I hate being such a rotten, miserable bitch.  It is not easy to face up to the fact that, as a parent, I completely suck.  I feel such an intense desire to punish my daughter for not feeling more dependent upon us, emotionally, especially.  We can’t help with finances, because I am a deadbeat piece of shit who can’t stand a crowd for more than a few minutes at a time.

I want to die.  I will not kill myself, but I have no desire to live right now.  I feel as if I’ve lost my children, and I can’t deal with it.  Tiffany’s situation is almost ready to change, and we can talk to her again.  No one will ever know how much happier that will make me.  I hate being out of touch with our girls.

But stubborn pride or something mysteriously like it keeps me from giving in (to WHAT would I be giving in?!!!!) and calling Elisabeth first.

I wish someone would shoot me in the head.  I already feel as if my heart has been shot.

The nasty, rotten, hateful Louise,

Betty