Fucked Up Thursday Morning

Congratulations! You have once again fucked up your daughter even more with your excess leakage of criticisms that you fucking swear are really "For [my] own good."

Yeah fucking bullshit. What it really does is get into my already damaged mind and it helps distort the mentality I have acquired of my own self image, through years of mental abuse, even further; thus aiding it to evolve into something which is even more unacceptable and rather revolting through my eyes.

Even when I was having a really fabulous morning, such as I was today might I add (with my perfectly waved hair, perfectly chosen spur of the moment outfit, and perfectly applied light make up), I even woke up earlier, a simple criticism can just completely eradicate those precious moments and make my life return back to the obsolete.

On even such a perfect day, of managing to seem well put together with assistances of all material possessions I love. Okay yeah that sounds superficial as hell, but truth be told, if you love the things that surround you then ultimately they make you feel better about yourself. (Such as books, music, art, etc.) Hence the term shopping=mental healing because if you feel that you look good, you ultimately feel better about yourself and all that bullshit entails. Whatever it seems to work even if just temporarily. But hey when it wears off, just consume some more! I hope that makes sense because I really don't feel like explaining it any further to make it seem less shallow and materialistic, but hey it is the dawn of the Consumer Age right?

So when I decide to share something with her, you, with anyone with blatant pride and boastfulness, it quite literally means just how much I am satisfied with whatever I seem to be raving about. What eventually turns everything around that no matter how happy I seem, her excellant "honesty" cuts like a fucking knife because she can't just once let me hear what I want to hear to send me on my happy ray of fucking sunshine day to perpetuate the cycle of yellow happiness.

No, she has to criticize about all the imperfections she sees. (And with me as her daughter, believe me the number is infinite) I mean it is already hard to be perfect everyday; for that is an impossibility. No one is perfect and I am a hopelessly flawed person. So I do my best. But apparently my best isn't good enough. No, nothing is ever good enough. I am never going to be good enough. So thank you mother. Really. (sarcasm intended for all you dumbasses that can't tell the difference)

No, your "honesty" really isn't helping, more so it just makes me want to rip my entire face off and tear it into bits everytime I look at it in the mirror.

And what makes matters worse is the constant weak pleas by me daily to get her to stop the constant criticism. Yet, as we all know with most people whom inherit hypocritical qualities, people that often dish it often cannot take it when thrown back in their faces, even if it is thrown back in even the most subtle ways.

You know, shit like:
"Mother, you really criticize a lot. Even my friends say that about you."
"Me, it's not criticizing, it's because I care about you, blah blah fucking blah"
I'll admit, I went the extra mile today with:
"Really mother, you think it might help, but really it doesn't" (yes I managed to withhold the fact that in fact, her criticisms make me feel even shittier than before)

And of course something she really does not want to hear. Yes, with her anything she doesn't like to hear she throws the childish fit and throws back the silent treatment. Or she gets all defensive and pulls the parental bullshit of "then just don't ask me anymore about anything" and then everything blows up then resets then cycles all over again. Just fucking lovely.

I mean I get it, sometimes I should keep my mouth shut. But really? At what expense? Would it be better for the child just to continuously take it and get hurt so the parents don't? Or for the parent to get hurt by the honesty divulge by the child trying? I don't know whether to just feel really angry or really guilty.

But either way,

I end up feeling really shitty about myself (really, fuck Chinese dutiful daughter guilt) even further, until it eventually passes like all these things, for somehow managing to hurt her fucking feelings instead of trying to heal mine. Fucking fantastic.