I just finished contending with my mother. I can’t stand this family and I don’t think I’ll be able to take it for much longer. Apparently my mother, my brother, and my grandma have been reading my blog and Elisse’s blog. Everybody wave. They’ve been working very hard to prove their ever-so-mature temperaments to me and the rest of the world.

My mother is incredibly upset that I keep a blog. She’s fine with a physical journal, but not a blog. She hates the fact that the entire world can read it but her, that I’m discriminating against her. Why is the fact that I don’t want her knowing every thought that runs through my pessimistic brain beyond her grasp? Why is it insulting to see that, being her daughter, I become angry with her and I need to talk about it? Why does it matter whether only I read it or Elisse and two other complete strangers read it? The woman is driven to yoke me in my impenetrable solitude and eventually drown me in it. The rest of the world (the entire 2 people that read my blog) can’t possibly find out that my mom is actually flawed. I can’t possibly express myself in a way that produces a substance that has the power to benefit and entertain others. Of course not- I’m suppressed. Huzzah.

Rob has been reading this and informing my mom that I have a dirty mouth. I have used an entire 2 (count them) swear words, and I have a dirty mouth. What? My mother would break down if she actually had a problem child, a child with really massive problems. Argh.

I just don’t understand it. I don’t see why I’m expected to go hang out with all the other Mormon girls when I don’t respect them. “He who sins against the greater light receives the greater condemnation”- don’t the Mormon girls, therefore, have the bigger problems? No- they do not drink or smoke or have lots of sex with random people, but they are materialistic, exclusive, malicious people that taunt those not in their circles to the point of sadism. They know what they should be doing, and yet act in a manner entirely un-Christian. Why should I associate with these counterfeits simply because they make themselves look how they’re supposed to look?

I refuse. I will not do this. I’m not going to censor my blog; I do not write for them. I’m not going to feign respect for them when they’re feeding their insecurities by reading my blog. I have my own morals, and I’m a good child. I have done close to nothing. Nothing. My family is too unsound to compensate me with the trust I believe myself to by worthy of. They are too dependent upon the illusion of control to let me speak out against them. What does it matter if it’s on the freaking web or not? What does it matter if I type it- you can’t stop me from thinking it. It scares you to see it written because it robs you of your ability to turn a blind eye to my feelings and my hindrances. You can no longer pretend to have built a seamless family because my honest opinions are staring you in the face. I am revolted by such suppression and refuse to condone it by muting my views and judgments. This is what I think. This is what I feel. If you have a problem with this then rob me of more rights and privileges. I DON’T CARE. This is what I see, from my mind to yours. I give it unto you. Do with it what you wish.