Friday, January 31, 2014
They are not my children
I am getting so tired of writing about them
I can't even begin to describe how much it aggravates me.
They are not my children.
And because they aren't, I don't have a say on whether or not they have to attend therapy, or go to drug councilling.
I am just the maid.
The girlfriend.
The one that is actively disrespected and stepped on.
The one that gets to be the proverbial punching bag. The one to take all their crap and is not allowed to give any of it back.
I get to keep my mouth shut.
He stole my prescription narcotic cough syrup... and now he gets to go out riding the ATV... like a fucking prize.
I could have gotten in serious trouble if something had happened... so its my fault.
They aren't my children. Its not my call.
But its my responsibility of something happens to him.
I left my childhood home because of alcoholics and drug addicts.
I am going to have to leave my "adult" home too.
I do not want to live with this stress. with this negativity.
they are not my children.
They are making me hate him too.
Dragonfly 1/31/2014 08:09:00 PM
| 0 people trying to cheer me up
|