Today my job was threatened. I didn’t take it well. Then I almost quit.
I just kept thinking of the day I quit working for you. I hated you so much that day. And for so long after. I’m still so hurt.
You’ve hurt me so many times, Mommy. It’s the exact fucking opposite of what you’re supposed to do. I was only brave enough to tell you that you’d hurt me a few times and that was such a huge mistake, too. You hurt me more then.
I’m also thinking about the things in your life that broke you. Something had to just go so wrong. I know that inside you are broken like I am, but something else happened. The biggest things I can think of besides when Daddy left is that you lost all three of your parents. The worst was your dad.
And I just keep thinking that you’ll have all three of them again.
I found out today you’re being given morphine for your stress. I just keep thinking about how people usually talk about assisted suicide. It always involves morphine. Is this it? Is this your end?
I hate that I can’t talk to you. I fucking hate it.