It would, they would, and we could eat them then--Waen could even make the little raspberry pastries she makes sometimes. Want me to tell Daddy to keep the next quart, then?
Nope. He'd be glad not to have to eat them all. I think he's getting tired of them.
No, no, no, no, and no. You are sweet and good and very, very strong to go through with everything you do (I've tried to kill myself for less, remember? I admire you so much for being as brave as you are); and if you get frustrated you have every right to. You're stuck in a situation that would bring out the worst in anyone, and the fact that you're handling it at all says and means a lot. If this has anything to do with your dad, I'm going to beat him up. If this has anything to do with anyone else, I'll still do the appropriate beating up. I love you. You are wonderful. You shouldn't believe otherwise.
And indeed you can. I'll arrange it. --Waen wants to know whether you'd also like blackberry or peach turnovers, as well as raspberries. She can make them all.
Great. I get to beat up your Mum. *hugs and hairstrokes*
Eeeeeeeeeee. She's too wonderful-- blackberry, perhaps, if she really wouldn't mind?
*snugs* --and now it's as if nothing ever happened, as if she didn't attack and berate me and tell me what a horrible person I was, as if she didn't judge me without provocation-- as if she doesn't keep telling me to get out, to go back to Pittsburgh, as though she doesn't imply all the time that she's happier when I'm not here, and hey, it's not like she doesn't like Maya better anyway.
She likes showing off how good she is at cooking, because she really is super. ^_^
--Great. You know what I hate? Favouritism. And--just. No. This is why families don't communicate, and does she ever stop to think that this could affect your recovery? Hello? No. You are my beautiful, wonderful girl. I'm happier when you are here, and I know you're a good person. I love you.
She apologised, sort of, but she also denied actually remembering any of it. Also, she doesn't think I'm actually recovering from anything, and doesn't always seem to think there's something to recover from. --She does like Maya better, though. Maya's more like her; Maya's open. Maya likes to talk and boy, does she ever. She knows where she is with Maya-- it's hard not to. (Maya doesn't call me except when she wants something, has anyone else noticed that?) I'm the one she can't read, the one who doesn't like to talk, the one she looks at askance and who she's uncomfortable with because I'm not awfully feminine, not the one who lives on junk food and is stick thin, not the one with a disorder that a pill will solve. But you know. She never liked me better; dad does, usually.
Well, I have news for her. You've got a disease to recover from, and you are. There's a difference between going to be at seven and going to bed at three. A significant difference; and I'm so proud of you. I'm proud of you for being there, for moving from where you were last year. I'm proud of you that you're working at this, even though it's hard and tired and you don't know when it's going to end and you don't even know sometimes what you're working towards. --And. Ha. Those are some of the reasons I'm afraid you'll someday realise you want Lillie instead of me. But that is beside the point, because you are the point. I do not care what your mother thinks, except probably to disagree with her. ^_~ But your sister is not better than you because she's easier to understand, or because she's got a different, perhaps less difficult, kind of sickness. Where Maya is awfully feminine, she's not as well-read or as well-versed in literature as you are. She may be stick thin, but you give wonderful safe soft hugs. It's just give for take. Maybe she's got something you haven't, but you've got something she hasn't. If your mother could realise that, she'd be a lot better off, and she'd probably have a better relationship with you. My mum, by the way, wants you to know that she loves you. Can we be your second family? Let's be your second family. We'll be the ones who don't shout about anything.
We tell each other when we're disappointed, and we talk about things that have upset us, but I don't remember ever in my life being shouted at by anyone in my family.
No, see, I actively don't believe you. I can't really remember a few-day-stretch without being shouted at. For as long as I can remember I've been the one who hasn't learned how to curse out the rest of the family members.
Well, it's true. We don't shout. And I'm glad you don't, because it means that even though you've been stuck in an entirely insane situation, you're holding out. And once again I'm proud of you. ♥
Once I lost my temper and threw water at Mum, but she was very angry and I've never done it since. I think that's the only throwing that ever happened.
I meant glass, ceramic, television remotes, books. ...actually, for about 12 years now, there's been a huge chunk out of the bathroom sink where it was attacked with a hair brush.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-05 10:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 02:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 02:53 am (UTC)*curlsupon*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 02:56 am (UTC)*lovesontightly* are you okay?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 02:59 am (UTC)...agajkbakjagyugfkjha
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:02 am (UTC)*huuuuuugs* Tell me?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:03 am (UTC)hi, am lazy and arrogant and nasty and selfish and have the worst disposition of anyone ever. there was other stuff but i don't remember anymore.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:07 am (UTC)No, no, no, no, and no. You are sweet and good and very, very strong to go through with everything you do (I've tried to kill myself for less, remember? I admire you so much for being as brave as you are); and if you get frustrated you have every right to. You're stuck in a situation that would bring out the worst in anyone, and the fact that you're handling it at all says and means a lot. If this has anything to do with your dad, I'm going to beat him up. If this has anything to do with anyone else, I'll still do the appropriate beating up. I love you. You are wonderful. You shouldn't believe otherwise.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:10 am (UTC)it's not me-- it's never me, except it's also always me. just what she'sbeen screaming.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:13 am (UTC)Great. I get to beat up your Mum. *hugs and hairstrokes*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:17 am (UTC)*snugs* --and now it's as if nothing ever happened, as if she didn't attack and berate me and tell me what a horrible person I was, as if she didn't judge me without provocation-- as if she doesn't keep telling me to get out, to go back to Pittsburgh, as though she doesn't imply all the time that she's happier when I'm not here, and hey, it's not like she doesn't like Maya better anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:29 am (UTC)--Great. You know what I hate? Favouritism. And--just. No. This is why families don't communicate, and does she ever stop to think that this could affect your recovery? Hello? No. You are my beautiful, wonderful girl. I'm happier when you are here, and I know you're a good person. I love you.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:34 am (UTC)She apologised, sort of, but she also denied actually remembering any of it. Also, she doesn't think I'm actually recovering from anything, and doesn't always seem to think there's something to recover from. --She does like Maya better, though. Maya's more like her; Maya's open. Maya likes to talk and boy, does she ever. She knows where she is with Maya-- it's hard not to. (Maya doesn't call me except when she wants something, has anyone else noticed that?) I'm the one she can't read, the one who doesn't like to talk, the one she looks at askance and who she's uncomfortable with because I'm not awfully feminine, not the one who lives on junk food and is stick thin, not the one with a disorder that a pill will solve. But you know. She never liked me better; dad does, usually.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:43 am (UTC)Well, I have news for her. You've got a disease to recover from, and you are. There's a difference between going to be at seven and going to bed at three. A significant difference; and I'm so proud of you. I'm proud of you for being there, for moving from where you were last year. I'm proud of you that you're working at this, even though it's hard and tired and you don't know when it's going to end and you don't even know sometimes what you're working towards. --And. Ha. Those are some of the reasons I'm afraid you'll someday realise you want Lillie instead of me. But that is beside the point, because you are the point. I do not care what your mother thinks, except probably to disagree with her. ^_~ But your sister is not better than you because she's easier to understand, or because she's got a different, perhaps less difficult, kind of sickness. Where Maya is awfully feminine, she's not as well-read or as well-versed in literature as you are. She may be stick thin, but you give wonderful safe soft hugs. It's just give for take. Maybe she's got something you haven't, but you've got something she hasn't. If your mother could realise that, she'd be a lot better off, and she'd probably have a better relationship with you. My mum, by the way, wants you to know that she loves you. Can we be your second family? Let's be your second family. We'll be the ones who don't shout about anything.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 03:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-06 08:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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