Understanding starts with acknowledging we exist

The older I get, the less I seem to understand about the world and life in general. At five my life was about being close to my loved ones, being outdoors as much as possible and making new friends. Now I guess I really dont understand people a whole lot at all. I dont understand why men rape and beat their wives who they once fell in love with, I dont understand why children are starving and cold on the streets when there are people out shopping who already own twenty pairs of pants, I dont understand why parents are putting their children on medications to make them behave when really they are just not wanting to parent. But what makes me so angry and so confused about is how people can see all of this happening everyday and turn away from it, understand it or not, its there in our faces and it is our responsibility to turn this all around while we still can, and people just dont want to.

Can't change her

My Mother is a good person, she loves me and has done a lot for me when I was growing up but everytime I see her there is one thing that makes me feel nervous and sick because I know that she is going to mention and point these things out. Ever since I can remember my mum has had huge issues with my physical appearance, weighing me when I go to visit, pulling my clothes, if other people are around she points out the things that she doesnt like about me to them so that I will be embarrassed, that sort of thing.

As a teenager it upset me to the point where I just wouldnt eat anything for days at a time, would obsess over my hair and clothes and how I looked even when I got up in the morning because she might see me and not like it. Now that I am out on my own, I still find that when I go and see her I have a few moments of panick before I get out of my car and walk in to see her, I wont eat or drink anything while I am there, I always wear new clothes and I always make sure my hair is in place, yet I wouldnt do this for anyone else. Im almost 21, and I am terrified of my own mother. She never hit me or was horrible to me, she just looks at me like she wishes I was somebody else, and it breaks my heart.


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