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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

I have a friend who’s rather wealthy who told me unironically once, when trying to explain something else that was equally odd, that “poor people want to be like rich people, at any cost, such as trying to afford holidays they can’t afford, like Christmas.” I was slightly annoyed at him when he first said this, and he backtracked and said he didn’t think people shouldn’t celebrate holidays, but then I told this to my mom and she went, “Oh yeah, well I’m still in debt from last Christmas.” Wtf? You literally bought us sewing kits because you were broke! What the f*ck were you buying?
 
You know what I really want for Christmas? A room. One that isn’t so filled with useless furniture whose sole purpose is to store actual trash no one wants, to the point that you can’t even see the walls.
 
Yeah, if only we knew where anything was when we needed it, wouldn’t that be nice?

But when I go to my sidter’s house, you better f*cking bet I’m going to get lectured by my mom about how “isn’t this nice, don’t you want a house like this, I’ll buy you anything you want if you just clean” as if the house was my doing? I was 14, 15, 16. The f*ck was I going to do?

I wish I would have risked child services again.
 
I’ll get a job and use the money to buy a dumpster and empty this f*cking dump. One dump to the next.

Yeah, because I’m the one who should be spending money on this hellhole.

Good thing someone offered to use $50,000 to clean this place up, free of charge or tax for us. Isn’t that nice? Too bad that’s ruined, too. Everything is ruined.
 
I hate this house. It’s not my f*cking fault. There was an adult here who was neglecting us and acting like it was our fault.

I went months without a toothbrush once. I had doctors asking me why I wasn’t seeing a dentist after my dad was gone. I almost got f*cking killed, and no one even noticed. Now I get to feel incredibly inhuman for the rest of my life.

And no one helped. No one.
 
I told Ms. Newton something was wrong with my friendship with Brandi when I was 15, 16, 17. She told me it’s hard to make friends in high school.
 
I called my psychiatrist to say I think the new medication is making me more severely depressed than usual. She recommended I get in touch with my therapist ASAP and then discontinue the drug.
 

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