I’m a mother.
I’m a sister.
I’m a daughter.
I’m a friend.
I’m all of those things.
But.. I’m fucked up.
Don’t try to figure me out.
I’m almost past the point of wanting to be understood.
People say I don’t accept.. Yes, I do. To an extent. I just feel that the people accusing me of being a fucked up basket case do that so they don’t have to accept their own shit.
People can’t take accountability for their own shit, their own actions, their own feelings. So it’s easier for them to point you out, bring attention to you, and call you on all your shit.
I’m not going to let it get to me. This time I mean it. If I have to be the bad guy to protect you from yourself, so be it. I’m usually the bad guy. But I know me. I know I’m not really. I slip from time to time and give people the ammunition they need.. But my good out shines my bad.
Good vs evil. My internal battle…
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