This has been a crazy week and a half of crazy weeks and a half.
I turned 31 yesterday and the week leading up to this event has been filled anxiety, anger, and depression. It isn't the getting a year older thing that is causing the problem, but more of a convergence of random other things happening. Alot of it has been focused around Mr.3 and the specter of him. And while I tell people that there will always be a small little part of me that loved him....the part that hates him gets much stronger everyday. Here's why....
I hate the fact that words like "sociopath", "abuser", and "wanted felon" have become normal words in my vocabulary.
I hate the fact that people like you are around other people in my life.
I hate the fact that I am reminded of you when I talk to other people about the people who are like you in their lives.
I hate the fact that even though I would like to be in a partnered and stable relationship with someone right now, I'm not because I don't want to start the dating process and run the risk of meeting another person like you.
I hate the fact that I don't have children yet, however, I am very grateful that I never gave birth to a child that shared your DNA.
I hate the fact that friends we had together have a hard time talking to me, because it is now awkward with the knowledge of all the bad that you did and how betrayed it made them feel.
I hate the fact that I have to work three jobs to pay my bills because I am an honorable person who wants to pay off my debt....as opposed to the weakling that you are.
I hate the fact that you continue to take advantage of people, even after they think that they finally have gotten rid of you.
I hate the fact that you are a bully.
I hate the fact that my little brother can no longer have any sort of financial right of passage because your ugly, lazy, and degenerate ass has been there before him.
I hate the fact that you are incapable of having your own life and therefore must steal the identity of others....like my brother, or your two nephews, or your brother....and the list goes on..
I hate the fact that out of all the sad birthday stories that I share with people, that I can't share the story about the birthday you ruined because it is the only one I can't find a joke to tell about it.
I hate the fact that their aren't adequate words in the English language to describe what true scum you are.
I hate the fact that even though I try to put you behind me and move on....you somehow still manage to resurface in some way and remind me that I really truly do hate you.