A Trapped Cycle

I am so fucking sick of you pathetic excuses for parents telling me that I’ll “ridiculous”, “a failure”, and pathetic every time I mess up at something, not matter how minor, no matter how many times I succeeded. I’m sick of you telling me that I’m not good enough. I’m sick of you guys using my dreams and my ambitions and threats against me, like I won’t ever get anywhere in life if I suddenly didn’t live with you anymore. Well heads up, fuckers. You cut me off when I was 14. Since then, I have made my money, paid my own tuition, bought my own groceries, and you two idiots charge me more in rent than an actual individual apartment would cost. But because you raised me to think that parents are the most important things in the world regardless of how they treat you, I thought that giving up my happiness to become the puppet and show pony you wanted me to be was worth it. I’m sick of qualifying to perform at Carnegie Hall, hell, even making it into the National Band, but then having you hit me with everything you could get your hands on when I played a note wrong in practice. I’m sick of breaking record after record, but then having you tell me I didn’t swim fast enough the moment I got out of the pool. I’m sick of having you idiots starve me, so I could be “pretty” and all my classmates’ parents would think that I’m “pretty” and “fit”, and that they were good parents. Thanks to you I have a BMI of 13.5 and low blood pressure. Thanks to you, I have battlefields on my wrist, but it’s okay, because I didn’t ever cut around you, and you didn’t have to deal with it. Thanks to you, I have more trophies than I have friends. Thanks to you my stack of certificates is taller than me. Thanks to you I’m afraid to pursue my dream because as soon as I build something, you knock it down. Thanks to you, I know how to NEVER treat my own children.