UnleashYourAnger.com

basically, i cannot fucking stand my family: my forgetful and embarrassing mother who i cannot wait to leave for 6 weeks, my brother with asperger's who i can and never will relate to or be able to share a bond with, and my dad who i don't even fucking talk to. i do not give a shit what's going on in their lives for the next 6 weeks and right now i just want to magically disappear away from everything.

the guy that i fell so hard for changed his feelings for me and i can't even begin to...

Do you even realize that our marriage is gone, dead, kaput, fin? I can't stand to be around you, and it makes me so terribly sad to say this when you're pregnant with my son.

Where do I start with over two years of frustration that you just blow of or turn around on me? Your family? When we fight you run to them crying. When you came home from your trip and found I had stacked some totebins in the closet you screamed at me and told your family that I abuse you. Their house is cluttered and filthy to the point that I feel disgusted and ashamed at having to live here with them, yet you tell me to just shut up. It isn't messy, it's just fine.

I actually really hate the way you act towards me.
I really think you're just an insecure jackass that feels he gets to take advantage of someone just like him: me.
You're just someone who smokes weed and cigarettes to "escape" from all the challenges life throws at him, to hide from his jackass shittiness towards others. Who doesn't want to study, so you left. Who doesn't want to work, but you need the money, anyway. A nobody, who only likes other nobodys.
I'm not a nobody.

I hate my job, I hate where my life is now. If I spotted myself on the street, I would probably Kick my own ass.

I put on my jeans this morning and they're too tight too even attempt to squeeze into. I fit into them just fine a week ago. You're asleep, drooling on my pillow when this happens. Disheartened a little, I try on a different pair and go to work. Work-study, actually, so I do all the mindless little tasks that stuck-up asshole professors think they are too good to do. Like re-alphabetizing their libraries for them. Then I come home again to prepare to study for three massive finals. Between work, maintaining a 3.97 GPA, my crazy fucking mother, your insecurities, your complete inability to do anything simple by yourself, constantly cleaning up after you in the apartment, and trying to stay sane as there are 10 days until the 2 year anniversary of my dad's death, yes, I have a hard time making healthy gourmet meals for the both of us. But once I realized that I had started stress-eating a lot, I changed my eating habits. According to the BMI, I'm about 15 pounds overweight. It's the heaviest I've ever been. I'm disgusted by myself and you know this.