my mom is sometimes evil. i feel about 10 years old writing this. but something happens to her and the monster--that vacant-eyed, ferocious, cold, ready to scratch your eyes out person--emerges. she said that i am a waste, a waste of a life. not worth it.
hearing her words again after so long of them fading, receding on their own to the past, reminded me of exactly why it was i dealt with things, myself/my body, the way i did. i also know more now that her words are not the truth. i believe more in myself than that. it still hurts, of course, but i went about my day like an adult with her head screwed on comfortably should.
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