A Much Needed Rant...

Of the year and a half I have known you; you have done nothing but wreck havoc on every single life you come in contact with. Just like Joshua when he took the Promised Land, you leave no survivors.

I have personally watched you destroy your oldest son and am currently watch you do the same to your youngest son, without remorse. I have been personally accepted into your family and have had the pleasure of watching their thought, opinions, and emotions about you surface. I have felt their warm embrace while you sit out in the cold—more so by your own accord.

I have watched you destroy every relationship you have ever had, whether it be sexual, familiar, or platonic. You spend your life thriving on negativity and drama…when there is none, you create it. You life in a world full of hatred and you never seem satisfied until the world has been drug down into your miserable hole, without a chance to climb out. And sadly, you were doing a pretty good job.

You didn’t expect the one thing negativity and hatred can’t destroy: love. You didn’t expect it because you’ve never experienced, not even for those made from your flesh and blood. At one point I would claim you were selfish and only love yourself; I’m not even sure I can attest to that anymore; which would explain the shear impossibility of others to love you.

However, love is what has saved your children, and has ultimately taken them away from you. Your mission would have succeed, except they had that one taste of addiction, and they followed it. A clear understanding of how healthy relationships should be left you alone, holed up in your room with your Oreos and trashy romance novels.

I write this because for a year and a half I bit my tongue. I stood there in your “house” and watched your entire being drip with hatred; I saw it, I felt it, I tasted it. At first, I didn’t respond because I thought your reaction was natural, I was taking your son away from you. Then I realized t was pure hatred and jealousy and had nothing to do with your son.

A real mother loves their children, through thick and thin. I know my mom is not the best, but she has always come running whenever there was a problem—I could go to her for anything and everything. A real mother does not abandon her children, whether it is for “finding oneself” or whatever penis you happen to have in front of you at the time. A real mother does not create a life of turmoil and fear for her children and she does not hit them.

Alas, it’s clear you’re not a real mother. But worse than that, you’re not even a real person. You have pushed me farther than anybody, even my own father. At least he knows when he is wrong and can admit his problems.