They always pass accountability onto the next person. They always pass responsibility and obligation onto the next person. They always pass standards onto the next person.... They always pass accountability onto the next person.
My mom's still a bitch. My sister's morally bankrupt.
6/13/2022 - 6/14/2022
My sister went fucking nuclear over a motherfucking game. Not unexpected. given she's an unstable piece of shit who my mom has enabled.
My sister cries to mom, instead of taking responsibility or taking accountability for his fucking shit.
My mother, expected to set a standard, decides to go around any moral or ethical obligans, not even as a parent or mediator, to not only fail to fucking mediate, but to again enable her shitty fucking attitude, deflecting her own accountability in the process of playing neutral.
There's a concept my mom is fucking ignorant of; "Learning to fail," where my sister has been spoiled and rewarded for being a piece of shit, therefore being a piece of shit is okay.
You know how my mom believes? If she can act like she condones or endorses something, her words don't mean anything after two fucking decades alive.
My sister gets violent and doesn't get punished for it = My mom didn't stop it, I don't give a fuck how my mom spins a moral story, since the actions taken contradict the lie told.
I get hurt? Doesn't care. Would rather spin herself as a mediator or neutral-party. And the problem with my mom, especially, is the fact she casually mistreats someone on the spectrum, expecting them to rise to her standards and meet them without questions asked. Again, while at the same time neglecting them, never supporting them, never fostering any talents and never giving enough of a fuck to encourage the autistic child.
My sister beats the shit out of me? This isn't about the instance where she nearly fucking killed me with a sharp fucking object. God fucking forbid I fought back-- shit could've severed an artery and killed me, the dumb motherfucker. And the fuck did the mother do? Nothing.
I tried recording software and it sucked ass. When I finally found software that worked, it wasn't the best, but I am willing to take the next step in future legal action. My family's actions represent a dynamic of justified abuse and villified victims. Then pretending like their acts did not create a victim because they're too fucked up to realize what they're doing.
Then insisting I 'get a job,' when, for the better part of my entire autistic life, the problem had never been an unwillingness to do so, but an incapability to emotionally, mentally, or psychologically prepare. And I'll never be prepared due to actually blacking the fuck out from panic or fear. I will never get a job on my own, because I already feel like my abusive family will extort me and I'll never leave the house. Even if it ended the opposite way, with me being kicked the fuck out, before I can even afford to live on my own... that's exactly the issue.
The family never respected me. The sister's exploitative. The mother's an opportunistic nazi who believes in black supremacy. The dad was also too strict and too hard to be a dad, he was a drill sergeant who tried to encourage me to appreciate his farm-life, but even then, he pushed too hard, didn't promote anything at my pace, and still expected a positive result from a rushed test.
My brother does care, but a lot can go wrong by depending or tasking a lot from him. The worst part of my life is that he cares and I feel like I am taking advantage of him being existing.
Because if I did get a job and was kicked out.... the moment he might feel compelled to take me in, he might soon kick me out anyway.
I suffer from PTSD. There has never been an instance where a specialist, or even a none-specialist, had noticed otherwise.
I suffer from autism, while it's not the prevalent issue, that in no way takes away from the fact in itself.
Clear depression. Clear suicidal thoughts. Abandonment issues. Trust issues. Fear of missing out. Fear of fucking up.
Fear of humans. Fear of authority. Fear of failure. If I fuck up a single fucking time, I will not have a home. I will not have anybody to rely on.
I feel like my mom chains me to a wall in a basement, expecting me to rise up, because for my entire life, she's not done a single fucking thing to help me. Feeding me doesn't bolster my already suicidal self-esteem. Housing me doesn't mean I am not a victim, a hostage, a doll to fuck with as she pleases. For lack of a better word, not only am I autistic, but the entire principle borders on disability-labor. I am co-dependent and so long as I am incapable of independence, I am her slave. I've always been her slave. She doesn't care about a person, because she doesn't see me as human. She sees me as a living thing, but not a person; a slave, someone who she only cares about because of what I can do for her, NOT because of who I am.
When my sister slandered my direct, clear character, insisting EVERY FUCKING TIME SHE CRIES, she insists I am heavily violent. And sometimes I get violent and need her to stop pushing. to stop PUSHING. To stop emotionally manipulating me, psychologically raping me, and mentally maiming me. And I am the one blamed for being violent, when the sister is clearly too fucking unstable for life itself. And my mom's prejudice already slanders my character.
I 'might've' hit my sister, but there's no evidence, case-by-case.
Therefore
I 'might've' hit someone in a job, but that's miscorrelating a domestic abuser to anybody else, who isn't personal or even relevant in my life. As if family doesn't have the greatest possible impact on a victim. Now prejudice already assumes I can't deal with people. I don't WANT to deal with people; this is the reason.
Therefore
If my sister lies again, we're getting booted from the house. That's because my sister's the reason alcoholism exists and why I tried so many times to kill myself. Nobody will miss me in the long term. If I died, nobody would suffer what it's like to live with a fucking rock. Nobody would have to put up with 'jobless' people taking advantage of them due to multiple clinically provable issues. Trauma that makes it literally impossible to take a first step on one's own.
Therefore
It'd be better if found a gun. I'm not even half-joking about firearms. If there was any chance to steal someone else's firearm and kill myself with it, it'd be the easiest decision I'd ever make. If I could just get my hands on a gun, I wouldn't worry about the pain or the agony that follows suicide, as it'd be a really, really fast process.
Because, while my family doesn't communicate a single shit.
Because, while my family doesn't take accountability for their actions.
Because, while my family are unethical at best.
At least I have an ethical mind to spare anyone the burden of my existence in their life.
At least I have an accountable mind to own the fact I'm useless.
At least I have communicated. The fuckers just decided not to fucking listen.
At least I have the freedom to die the way I didn't live. I was a fucking slave who was sheltered and held hostage while nobody was around to help, or noticed I needed it.
Dying however the fuck I can manage is the best freedom I have. Because, if I am going to live homeless, hopeless, helpless, or eventually incapable of using my arms... I really want to kill myself before my arms become disabled.
My mom's moral issues won't change.
My sister's ineptitude isn't ineptitude, it's infantile regression.
My brother doesn't deserve this shit. I am glad he got out, but I won't.
My dad's an asshole who forgot about his kids and didn't try to empathize while he could.
I am suffering from my periodic black-outs again, too. I had them while living with dad in my life. Those black-spots in memory, or micro-sleep, where I space out constantly.
I did get literally smacked across the fucking head by my sister's fist, so I might be suffering a concussion. Just because I don't mention it doesn't mean it didn't happen. It doesn't matter; my sister's the piece of shit my mother endorses and condones. My sister would never have gotten into trouble because my sister gets away with lying so much that simply constructing a false diagnosis or 'cause of injury' is enough for mom.
And, obviously, when I die, the cause of death will read "Suicide"
It will never read "Indirect homicide by their mother and young sibling."
It will never be phrased as "Homicide"
It will never even reference family abuse.
It will never pertain to abuse.
It will never even acknowledge that suicide is NEVER just suicide. That there's always an underlying cause and reason, that people, in any moral or intelligent community or civilization, should be working to avoid. They failed. It's not society that fails a victim....
the entirety of a civilization lives and falls by its successes and failures. And right now, it failed me. It's always failed me. And I can't help but feel boxed into a life and family I do not deserve, didn't ask for, and tried to compell myself to escape. This is literally the definition of hell. A true place to experience a person's worst possible horror and life. An eternity with a family that claims they 'tried' when they do not a fucking thing. And then laying their failures as a fucking family on their child, the one they failed on their own account. The fact nobody takes accountability....
and I won't get another chance to take accountability for my existence except by ending it.
The cycle continues in the traditional series of events called
"Mom and sister in denial of own fault." the completely self un-realized fucks.
followed by
"Return to start shit" the completely self un-realized fucks.
followed especially by
"Pretend their involvement didn't start shit, blame it on the person who they manipulate."
also
"Pretend they didn't do anything by doing something; pretending to make amends, or conveniently forget the previous stunt even fucking happened."
followed by
"Deny accountability; pass responsibility over to the slave."
My mom's, no-fucking-shit, iconic words are
"I am a proud black woman; I am not afraid to call the cops."
And this is just fucking peachy. Not owning her failures as a parent because this is not a family. It's a literal FUCKING CULT. Sister gets preferential treatment most of the time, best implied by how often she fucking lies and how often mom's standards don't seem to exist, or even how fucking little mom cares about the lie. She takes everything at face value, setting the most ironic definition of fucking ineptitude there's even been.
And if mom could even remember what empathy and compassion was, maybe she'd even be a real mom. As far as I know, care, or am capable of remembering, I've been the black sheep of the family and pitied. I was never loved. And I'll never be loved. It's such a loosely used term that if I could escape, I could.
I cannot handle confrontation.
I cannot handle confrontation.
Mom beat the shit out of me on two occasions I can remember.
DAD beat the shit out of me on two occassions I can remember.
Sister beat the shit out of me and nearly fucking murdered me with anything sharp she could get her fucking hands on. Failure to succeed is disregarded because it's not a success.
And mom expects me to 'Get a job?'
Mom expects me to 'Rise beyond' when I've been shot down, shot dead, and shot-up in traumatic experiences that I am scared fucking shitless of failing to do even that?
Mom expects a lot of her bitch, considering she's only using "Get a job" as a manipulative toy to enslave me further into free labor for her. And as long as I can see these statistics for what they objectively are, there's nothing she can lie about to convince me she's not exploiting me for no real benefit. A lot, not all, families got an allowance. Not me.
My head hurts all the time.
https://www.everydayhealth.com/migraine/what-you-need-to-know-about-migraine-and-ptsd/
https://americanmigrainefoundation.org/resource-library/post-traumatic-headache/
On top of that, I can't tell anyone about the pains. I am slowly waiting to see if the headaches are serious enough to actually kill me. Because, you know, if there's no gun to shoot myself with, clearly, there's always death by PTS-Fucking-D
https://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/fl-xpm-2003-07-27-0307240578-story.html
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3444212/
https://psychcentral.com/anxiety/anxiety-headaches
I will never live long enough to go legal. I will never find closure. I will never get help.
I will never be safe, saved, or loved.
https://theocdandanxietycenter.com/rumination/
And that fucking sucks.
I just want the pain to stop. I feel perpetually hungry, like someone shoved a fucking knife into my stomach. I am always dizzy except when distracted. I am always sad.
I have recently developed a double-intellect, where I constantly deal with two conflicting thought processes back-to-back, resulting in grammatical errors. I can't write, I can barely breathe. If I die, I would be far happier than if I lived a free life. It'll too late to make up for all of the fucked up shit I've experienced in my life. It's too late to off-set the fucked up shit I'm haunted by. It's too late.