by rheeb

I actually feel sick to my stomach and my upper back is tensed.  I’ve had a headache for about a week.  I feel so deplorably sad and angry, like I’m in a hole alone with no light.  No hope.

Ever since Cod kicked Nark out of the house, there has been a eerie feeling hanging in the air.  That feeling for me is a flashback to when, at four, she decided to remarry him.  From what I remember of my early childhood, my mother was a normal, well-adjusted woman.  But when she remarried him, she became a shell that completely ignored me.  My fear is that she will eventually let him move back into the house.  Thing is, he’s been calling her everyday–telling her little fucking stories about the happenings in his life.  And the thing that bothers me is that she fucking answers the phone.  Why?  Why entertain him?

It’s like there’s no air in this room.

I just feel so unloved in all of this.  Neither of them care one fuck about how they’ve affected me in my life.  I am so angry at her, because she still talks to my abuser.  She still loves my abuser.  She still entertains my abuser.  How little can you possibly care about me?  And then it hit me the other day.  Like, honestly, growing up, I was around Nark constantly after he raped her.  She didn’t think that he’d do something to me?  She allowed me to be around a fucking rapist for several years while she neglected me.  What does that mean?  To me, it means, “Rheeb, I don’t care about you or your well-being.”  After Nark and I had that fight when I was sixteen, she sent ME to a therapist!  It was like she was defending her 56 year old asshole of a husband.  And now that she’s kicked him out, every memory is to be absolved?  Fucking bullshit.  I have been so tense that it’s insane.  I almost feel the way I did right before I was fired from PFCM.  Thing is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she let him move back in.  She kicks him out.  I no longer speak with him (didn’t even send him a FD card, praise Jesus).  If she allows him to move back in, what does that mean for me and Sucka?  It means that we will be living in hell.  It means that I will officially no longer have any semblance of a family.  I don’t trust her.  She has the poorest judgment that I have ever encountered, and I wouldn’t put it past her.

She is an accomplice to his abuse.

I don’t even know what to say to her now.  I mean that, literally.  I have nothing to say to her actually.  Words are gone–vanished in this insanity.

I don’t know if I should just pack my shit and drive away.  I don’t know where to go.  I have no family anywhere else.  I have limited funds.  What do I do?  Seriously, I would appreciate some advice as to what my next move should be.

I can’t keep feeling this ill.  I mean, seriously, I have lived in the bathroom for the past two days.  Something has got to give.