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My little sister is a sack of crap
Sep. 11th, 2015 12:15 amEvery now and then I look at my sister's Facebook page and it makes me feel a little better about how she doesn't talk to me anymore, because it shows me what a fucking pile of shit she is. Selfish, inconsiderate pile of shit with some seriously fucked up views of the world. Like our dad. Those two never did get along, because they're too similar to one another. My sister is and has always been stubbornness incarnate, fucking BORN a spoiled brat even though nobody in the family made her that way. She never got any special treatment, but she always got her way in the end because she would pitch screaming hissy fits every time she wanted something and had the stamina of a fucking god. The only thing to do was either give in the moment she threatened a tantrum to avoid putting up with constant screaming for as long as 8 hours in a row, or try to match her in screaming and stamina. A temper tantrum from my sister was like a hypercane - just like a hurricane, but bigger, more powerful, and land doesn't fucking slow it down.
I still have PTSD because of her crap, it takes all my self control to keep from screaming whenever a child pitches a tantrum on the bus or even yowls just a little bit. I will never fucking have kids because of her because I'm too afraid of having one just like her, and even more afraid of absolutely losing my fucking temper and either becoming an abuser or a murderer. I could handle babysitting well-behaved kids, because that shit is temporary and I had to learn a great deal of patience sufficient to last me until I gave the kid back to its parents. But I can never have any of my own because if I had one just like my sister, at best I would have to give it up for adoption to keep myself from losing my sanity and killing it, and by the time it was possible to know if they'd never grow out of it, I doubt adoption would be an option anymore. I don't actually know how old a kid can be and still be given up for adoption, and the kid would - by that point - be old enough to have abandonment issues the rest of its life if I did. I could never do that to anybody. And it's all the fault of my little sister.
I went on the FB page of that festering sack of infected pus today, and saw an old post (new to me) that infuriated me. Enraged me, even. She posted a "father's day" card to her FB that said Dad leaving was the best thing to ever happen to her, and made Dad sound like he had been abusing Mom, when he goddamn well fucking wasn't. I'm glad he's not on Facebook himself, and I hope he never saw that fucking post; he was literally fucking abused as a child, to the point where he very nearly murdered his stepdad to end the abuse, and he made goddamn sure to end the cycle of abuse. He's been nothing if not a loving and caring father, albeit one that was at his wit's end with my sister. But no matter how hard she screamed, no matter how long she held out for, Dad never even once hit her. He was raised in a violent household but never got violent himself. He deserves a fucking "Dad of the Century" award for putting up with my sister's crap for decades without ever hitting her.
He didn't even leave Mom anyway, it was Mom who filed for divorce. Usually I'm against blaming the kids for a divorce, but in this case my little sister was absolutely the reason for the divorce. Dad couldn't understand why Mom kept giving in to my sister, because he's never had depression so he doesn't know what it's like, and so they'd argue about that. If Mom had not had depression, I feel certain my little sister would have been shipped off to boarding school or boot camp or something. Or maybe she would have become a halfway decent person, I dunno. All I know is Mom tried very hard to be on Dad's side against my sister, but like a tall tree in a hurricane, she (Mom) got knocked over.
Gods, that disgusting selfish cocksucking pestilence (my sister)! The nerve of her, suggesting Dad was an abuser. That "card" would fucking destroy him; to Hell with that heartless little maggot for speaking such lies. Fucking disgusting. SHE was the fucking abuser in that situation. Sure, when she was little she didn't know any better, but she still fucking does that shit now, because no matter how hard Dad tried to teach her to behave like a human being rather than a rabid jackal, she never fucking grew out of that bullshit. So once she became old enough to know better, she became a fucking abuser by constantly screaming to get her way.
And the "best" part is, I can't call her on any of this bullshit on her FB or in an email. She'd delete any email without reading it, and if I dared speak the truth on her FB page, that would doubtless spark an epic family battle with her getting Mom (and the still-living relatives on Mom’s side of the family) on her side. Mom never stood a chance against my sister; Mom has always had chronic depression, she never had the energy to hold up under the pressure of the endless hypercane of my sister's tantrums. My sister has Mom wrapped around her little finger; my sister still lives with Mom, has more pets than a goddamn zoo, and doesn't even have a fucking job, even though she’s able of body and mind; she just mooches off of Mom. She had a job, once, and I nearly died of shock when Mom told me about it. That cocksucking little maggot is allergic to work, always has been. I'm not surprised it was a cushy desk job. And she couldn't even keep a job that fucking easy to do! My guess is she got fired because nobody can tolerate her shitty personality.
So yes, I loved her once (Goddess only knows why), but I don't anymore. I hate her. I don't say this lightly, but I look forward to hearing she's died; Mom will finally be free of her. I just hope my sister dies before my Mom does; Goddess knows Mom needs the fucking rest and freedom.
And I know full well the hatred is mutual, because anyone who knows me and my Dad both knows I'm a lot like him, fucking stubborn as all Hell. I was right there next to him yelling and screaming back at her, trying to weather the storm. Well, about 50 to 75 percent of the time. I had depression too, and autism, and for a couple years I just tried to escape the Hell my home life had become because of that worthless sack of crap that calls itself my sister. But I was being bullied at school, and home had been my one safe place before my sister came along, so eventually I just couldn't take it anymore, and I got right alongside Dad in his battles with my worthless sister. I was young enough that the depression didn't suck enough of my energy away to keep me away. It had been, before I snapped. I was a gentle child, never got angry at all until that day, hard as that is to believe. Then all of a sudden I was filled with a rage like a jet fuel fire in my soul. And nothing was ever the same again. And so she hates me for the same reason she hates Dad: because we stood up to her.
I still have PTSD because of her crap, it takes all my self control to keep from screaming whenever a child pitches a tantrum on the bus or even yowls just a little bit. I will never fucking have kids because of her because I'm too afraid of having one just like her, and even more afraid of absolutely losing my fucking temper and either becoming an abuser or a murderer. I could handle babysitting well-behaved kids, because that shit is temporary and I had to learn a great deal of patience sufficient to last me until I gave the kid back to its parents. But I can never have any of my own because if I had one just like my sister, at best I would have to give it up for adoption to keep myself from losing my sanity and killing it, and by the time it was possible to know if they'd never grow out of it, I doubt adoption would be an option anymore. I don't actually know how old a kid can be and still be given up for adoption, and the kid would - by that point - be old enough to have abandonment issues the rest of its life if I did. I could never do that to anybody. And it's all the fault of my little sister.
I went on the FB page of that festering sack of infected pus today, and saw an old post (new to me) that infuriated me. Enraged me, even. She posted a "father's day" card to her FB that said Dad leaving was the best thing to ever happen to her, and made Dad sound like he had been abusing Mom, when he goddamn well fucking wasn't. I'm glad he's not on Facebook himself, and I hope he never saw that fucking post; he was literally fucking abused as a child, to the point where he very nearly murdered his stepdad to end the abuse, and he made goddamn sure to end the cycle of abuse. He's been nothing if not a loving and caring father, albeit one that was at his wit's end with my sister. But no matter how hard she screamed, no matter how long she held out for, Dad never even once hit her. He was raised in a violent household but never got violent himself. He deserves a fucking "Dad of the Century" award for putting up with my sister's crap for decades without ever hitting her.
He didn't even leave Mom anyway, it was Mom who filed for divorce. Usually I'm against blaming the kids for a divorce, but in this case my little sister was absolutely the reason for the divorce. Dad couldn't understand why Mom kept giving in to my sister, because he's never had depression so he doesn't know what it's like, and so they'd argue about that. If Mom had not had depression, I feel certain my little sister would have been shipped off to boarding school or boot camp or something. Or maybe she would have become a halfway decent person, I dunno. All I know is Mom tried very hard to be on Dad's side against my sister, but like a tall tree in a hurricane, she (Mom) got knocked over.
Gods, that disgusting selfish cocksucking pestilence (my sister)! The nerve of her, suggesting Dad was an abuser. That "card" would fucking destroy him; to Hell with that heartless little maggot for speaking such lies. Fucking disgusting. SHE was the fucking abuser in that situation. Sure, when she was little she didn't know any better, but she still fucking does that shit now, because no matter how hard Dad tried to teach her to behave like a human being rather than a rabid jackal, she never fucking grew out of that bullshit. So once she became old enough to know better, she became a fucking abuser by constantly screaming to get her way.
And the "best" part is, I can't call her on any of this bullshit on her FB or in an email. She'd delete any email without reading it, and if I dared speak the truth on her FB page, that would doubtless spark an epic family battle with her getting Mom (and the still-living relatives on Mom’s side of the family) on her side. Mom never stood a chance against my sister; Mom has always had chronic depression, she never had the energy to hold up under the pressure of the endless hypercane of my sister's tantrums. My sister has Mom wrapped around her little finger; my sister still lives with Mom, has more pets than a goddamn zoo, and doesn't even have a fucking job, even though she’s able of body and mind; she just mooches off of Mom. She had a job, once, and I nearly died of shock when Mom told me about it. That cocksucking little maggot is allergic to work, always has been. I'm not surprised it was a cushy desk job. And she couldn't even keep a job that fucking easy to do! My guess is she got fired because nobody can tolerate her shitty personality.
So yes, I loved her once (Goddess only knows why), but I don't anymore. I hate her. I don't say this lightly, but I look forward to hearing she's died; Mom will finally be free of her. I just hope my sister dies before my Mom does; Goddess knows Mom needs the fucking rest and freedom.
And I know full well the hatred is mutual, because anyone who knows me and my Dad both knows I'm a lot like him, fucking stubborn as all Hell. I was right there next to him yelling and screaming back at her, trying to weather the storm. Well, about 50 to 75 percent of the time. I had depression too, and autism, and for a couple years I just tried to escape the Hell my home life had become because of that worthless sack of crap that calls itself my sister. But I was being bullied at school, and home had been my one safe place before my sister came along, so eventually I just couldn't take it anymore, and I got right alongside Dad in his battles with my worthless sister. I was young enough that the depression didn't suck enough of my energy away to keep me away. It had been, before I snapped. I was a gentle child, never got angry at all until that day, hard as that is to believe. Then all of a sudden I was filled with a rage like a jet fuel fire in my soul. And nothing was ever the same again. And so she hates me for the same reason she hates Dad: because we stood up to her.
