anonymouse

Preface (which was written ten minutes after I posted this entry): Don't read this entry. It's more at home in some dumb girl's livejournal. I'm just yelling at the wind, y'all.



I think I want a brother, a nice one. That's why it hurts so much when he calls me a whore, when he tells me I only have friends because they pity me, that my mom doesn't like me, that he's smarter than I am, that I'm a subdefective. It hurts when he calls my mother the same, when he calls her a cunt. He's less critical of my father, probably because he's a latent misogynist. He just doesn't want to admit it, not verbally at least.

It's confusing. I remember playing video games, and thinking he was nice, but I realize he's nice only when it suits him. And that, THAT is probably the meanest thing he could do, more cruel than calling me useless.

He makes me cry. He can hear me cry, can't he? That doesn't make him feel bad? When I hurt someone's feelings, I feel guilty, I feel like a bad person. And he feels nothing? I don't know how deep his mental illness runs. I mean, he's hit me a couple of times, after he goading me into sinking down to his level. What does he have to do before my mom leaves, before my wishy-washy welcome mat of a dad kicks him out?

I hate writing these entries, but I don't like talking about these problems with others. I should probably find a good therapist, one who doesn't suck and sit there and judge.

I don't think I'll ever understand some people.