That leaves me filthy, tear stained, bruised and bred.
It should really come as no surprise that instinct overrides emotion for a human toilet.
I ordered a tatertot pizza from Toppers and put fucking stuffed animals in a box. And labelled it “My cute plushie babies”. It’s already in permanent marker, I ain’t changing it now.
And I’ve grown accustomed to it.
But it really hits a raw, basic-needs nerve when your own fucking family is using you for a year, blatantly lies about it, treating you like an unintelligent money-procuring meatsack, and then slips up about it because THEY can’t even keep up with their woven web of deceit, in the meantime they make you feel like shit, make you so fucking depressed you’ve given up all sense of hope, and laugh in your face when you try to defend yourself
A fucking year of this - of me thinking it’s all in my head, that I’m a fuck up. How could I not trust this person? How could I not depend on them?
If family can do it without batting an eye, I can only imagine the people I’ve loved playing me just as easily…and that is just…soul crushing.