Yea, that's not my hair, that's a dye job.

So, I'm at Mc Donalds again waiting on my dear sweet sister to Skype me.

I put my laptop down at a booth and Douchie McDoucherson in the both in front of me started kicking the bottom of his table really loudly and staring at me so, you know, I have to sit here now. I feel like that's the polite thing for me to do as he apparently so desperately needs attention. I would snap a pic but my phone doesn't have a camera because it's a DINOSAUR, but, it's ok, he's a ginger with a faux-hawk anyways.

But! That's beside the point. The real point today is I am in a mood most foul. Recent events in my family have made me contemplate the meaning of my life and my own little family. How I treat others and if I am a "bad person."

A wise older woman said to me something once that literally blew my life up for a whole year. I was talking to her about my problems with my mom and my dad's and she said to me "Sarah, that is the saddest part of your generation. You do not know how to set boundaries. We as your generation of parents have not taught you how." We then went on to have a long conversation about how boundaries are good and there to help you succeed in life. If something hurts you every time you do it why would you do it anymore?

I know, that every single time I talk to my mother I will scream at my husband for a week. Every single time without fail. Talking to her makes me crazy. Literally crazy. I hate who I am when I am near her. I hate the feelings I feel, I hate the way she looks at me, I hate the way I look at her. I hate how every time she's talking I never hear her words she's actually saying but I hear the horrible things she's said to me my whole life. Like a cassette tape that flips it's self over.

My dad's are sort of the same way. A cassette tape of hateful words. My dad Bryan and I are a lot better off though because he has apologized and made major steps to get to know a little person I like to call "real me." I've apologized too and made efforts to get to know a big snuggly guy I like to call "real vatti."

The biggest issue I still struggle with is the lack of protection that I had from any of my parents.The hardest part is being blamed for things that I had no control over. Things that happened, and words that were screamed at me when I was a child, choices I made. I'm talking, below the age of 16. I hate to tell you this but 16 is still just a kid. I was not protected at all from anything. I was left, alone, to struggle, to raise myself, to make my own choices. I had no idea. Some of those choices impact me today still and some of them in very negative ways. And I am blamed for them, and the consequent choices built upon those destructive foundations by the same people who left me vulnerable. My life is even used as a "cautionary tale" of sorts to my other siblings.

At the age of 25 I finally have boundaries. I refuse to continue to make concessions. I'm not sorry and I won't ever be. I don't expect anyone else to be sorry either. Some day maybe my family will be able to love me, respect me, and accept me and my lifestyle for exactly who I am and what I am and who I choose to be with. Maybe some day they will even make room for me in their close nit clique of snark (though, I'm pretty sure I would not partake). Until then I will have rigid boundaries. I have to protect myself.


Also, ginger-attention whore-man has a chin strap beard. Halfway through this post he sighed really heavily, got up, and left. I didn't get a pic of him as he was leaving.