killing it with close inspection. killing it can only make it worse, it sort of makes it breed

i’m avoiding my mom. haven’t talked to her or even seen her since she came home. what’s the point? she’s not going to apologize, and i’m not going to apologize. not this time. i always end up apologizing to people just to get rid of the whole situation. i take the blame. i remember when i was little, and i learned the word scapegoat. i remember thinking, ‘that’s me’. i just let the blame rain down on me. i was once literally told that i had ruined christmas. lolol. and i was what, 12? and i believed it for the longest time, that i was the bad kid, the troubled child. fuck, i still half believe it. and now i’m the bad adult, the troubled adult. i miss being a troubled child. no….. i don’t. back then when people told me what i was, i believed them. no matter how terrible or contrary to reality it was. and although their words still echo through my head forever, i’m believing the words less and less.

still, i have that stupid feeling where tears are just beneath the surface. like if anyone asked me if i was okay, i would start bawling. i am okay though. i’m totally okay. this too shall pass.