UnleashYourAnger.com

Abused or not, when a parent revels (yes, our abuser reveled) in their psychological torture of their children, even if they are narcissistic or mentally ill, so long as they are sane in the eyes of the law, they are fully responsible for their abusive actions. Their own abuse as children does not negate their culpability and, if anything, it makes harder to understand as they went through it themselves and ought to know the pain.  I have stopped explaining away or trying to understand my mother's abuse toward us and have since let it be what it was - a deliberate and malicious attempt to destroy and control her possessions.  Yes, that's right, we were things, not individuals to her.  We were objectified.  We were simple extensions of her; much like the way a puppet master controls the strings of his playthings.  We had to play out life to her wishes.  If we dared to have an opinion that differed from hers, it was a capital offense with corporal punishment the result.  She was the “queen” (and had even described herself as such on many occasions) and if she had a beef with someone, we had to hate that person too.  Our father died and she beat us and tortured our little minds because we dared to grieve for him and not adore her.  She was a narcissist and a sick woman.  She murdered our souls.  She humiliated us with her slutty behavior, her drinking, drugs, and mental/physical/emotional abuse.  She is dead now.  Dead for 7.5 years.  Her destruction lives on.

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GOD DAMN IT FACEBOOK

I'm trying to talk to friends; they send me a chat message, and as soon as I start typing a fucking word, they're "offline". SOCIAL NETWORKING MY ASS! How the fuck am I supposed to be networking when you're logging me off every time I try? What the fuck's your problem, facebook? It's not like you've got something better to do! All you gotta do is send a couple of fucking 26 character messages. Can you not handle that? Are you not up to it? WELL I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. QUIT DIDDLING YOURSELF WITH YOUR OWN EMOTICONS AND LET ME HAVE A FUCKING CONVERSATION.

You are PSYCHO!!!

You want to get better?  You want to have a good relationship?  Then STOP SEEING PSYCHICS AND SEE A PSYCHOLOGIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Don't know the difference?  Let me explain...if they talk about feelings and past issues and want you to tell them about yourself and make you do all the talking and explaining, that's good!  That would mean that they are a Psychologist.  If they talk about the zodiac, birth charts, and what sign/house you were born under, they are a psychic.

If they went to school for 6 years, have a state license number and submit the bill to your health insurance company, they are a Psychologist.  If they 'read' your palm/tea leaves/bumps on your head and ask for $120 in cash for an hours worth of non-stop talk from them about NOTHING, they are a FRAUD PSYCHIC!!!!

You were molested by a friends brother, abandoned by your Dad, and had sex with random shitheads till you were 19.  You met me, married me, and promptly closed your legs.  I've been patient, but the PSYCHIC has GOT TO GO!!!!

This is to the guy who I once thought of as my boyfriend:  What fucking 30-something year old man needs to be schooled on the art of oral hygiene, and why credit, any credit, is important to acquiring assets in life (like a house for the kids you are fond of talking about).  Instead, I bought it, on my own dime, and have to hear you bitching and complaining about having to pay rent and board.  Too bad, pay up or get out - I'm not your mother.  I have waited too goddamn long for you to even get your driving license, I *just* found out 6 months after buying the house that your SIN card was "dormant" because you did not have a steady job record and have only recently been told that you have head problems (no fucking kidding, but why no doctor's appointment, ever?) and that's why you are less established than a 14 year old working part-time at McDonald's.  I have never met someone as dependent, stubborn, and with such an overstuffed opinion of himself as I have of you.  You are such a bitter fucking disappointment.

You can run to your mommy and daddy all you like, and cry to them how much of a meanie I am, and you can rest assured that I will never let them know your secrets.  I will never tell them of your cum-rags strewn across the den floor from your smoking porn fetish sites, your shitstains on my once pristine bed linens, your perfectly unused toothbrush from 2007 that I bought for you, or your once-in-every-ten-days showering habit.

I have forced down any sex drive a healthy younh woman has because sleeping with you is like sleeping with a dirty homeless person (you smell like one, pig), and like the song says "You ain't NEVER gonna get it".  If I only knew how much of a goddamn loser you were before I upped and moved and ended up stuck with your dirty and unambitious ass.

Get the FUCK out of my house, you loser.  Good luck finding a woman who will deal with your nonsense.  Like me, you'll have to snow her for two years with lies on top of lies in order to reel her in, but like me and every other ex before me, she will quickly see you for the complete fall down you are.

When you walk into a store don't you dare think it is ok to just walk up to an assistant and attack and belittle them.

If you want help then say hi and ask if someone could help you.

And don't i repeat don't you dare tell me that I am 'just so rude' when I apologize to you after being abused. What I would have liked to say is 'f**k off you old b****h' but instead I said 'Oh I'm really sorry but we can definitely help you.' I might as well have kicked you in the ass for all the good it did me or you. If your husband hates you and you are going through menopause don't take it out on me.

You destroyed my day and I hope that it was worth it for you - actually I hope the experience was so horrible that you never come back into the store but don't worry if you do we have you name and your details and the girls all saw what happened and no-one in the world except you thinks that apologizing and offering to help is rude. What on earth did you want from me? To burst into repentant tears for looking in the mirror and putting on some lipstick.