Dear Life

Dear Twinings,

Thank you for being such a reliably tasty brand of tea.

Sincerely,

Tea Guzzler

Dear Wonderful Woman I Love,

I don't want to live here with you anymore, and I'm sorry. I still want to live with you, just not here. I've tried to be happy. But I'm coming to understand that I am just not. I can't be happy being constantly treated as a second class citizen at home. I can't be happy when I watch your family put you down every day, tell you that you'll never succeed, say things like, "If you graduate" instead of "when you graduate." I can't be happy when I watch them ignore your requests, show no consideration for your needs. And I most certainly can't be happy when you tell me that if you ever were to stick up for yourself, you'd get kicked out of the house (especially when the cruelest person in the house is your sister, who is treated like a goddess). THAT IS ABUSE. A person who threatens your life when you object to the slightest thing is abusive. I'm treated at the same level as you are treated, and you are treated like absolute shit. You don't deserve that, and neither do I.

I have 26 years of mistreatment and abuse to unravel with you. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to convince you that you're not a loser, that you're smart. I don't know if I'll ever be able to help you become strong enough to strike out on your own. You tell me that it's not my responsibility to fix things. And I suppose that you're right. But I can't help but want to. I want to make things better. I want you to be able to stop putting yourself down whenever your family is the slightest bit unhappy with you, whenever I'm unhappy with you. I want to make them stop doing these things to you. I WANT some equality in the house. I want some consideration. You say I'll never have that. Your family members are just not considerate people.

THEN I WANT OUT.

With or without you. I can't be here anymore. We've talked about this, and I know that you understand. I never got to live on my own. I never got to sleep alone in an apartment, make my own schedule, my own meals, take care of myself without help. I never got to own my own space, create my own atmosphere. I need to do that. But I also want you. Thank you so much for understanding that. I know I can't leave yet, have to wait until I have a job, until I'm done with this hellish semester. I know that the time I'll have to wait is two months minimum. I wish it were shorter, but I'll have to wait. I'll have to be unhappy while I wait.

I've tried to be happy, but I can't be happy with this. I wish I weren't miserable, but I am. I am completely miserable. I love you, though. I hate my unhappiness, my rebellion. I hate the thought that it might be hurtful to you. I know you want me to think more like you, to "be patient." But there's a difference between being patient and lying down and taking abuse. I know that you can't stand up for yourself now. Even if you were brave enough, it would not be practical, and it would not change a thing. The only way anything would have helped was if you had stood up for yourself when you were a little girl. Sometimes I curse that little girl in my head, wondering why the hell she couldn't have just said, "No. I need things." when she was six. I know I shouldn't be so angry at a neglected child, but sometimes I am. It makes things so confusing. The only way I can see to end this negativity is to leave. I need to get out.

With the utmost love and desperation,

Your girlfriend

Dear Bitch of a Matriarch,

You are a HORRIBLE MOTHER. You show favoritism. You let Saint Betty get away with everything. You let her mistreat anybody as she likes. You direct your anger at Mo, when it should be Betty you're angry with. You never listen to Mo. You're never considerate of her. You never do ANYTHING to show her that you TRULY love her. AND I HATE YOU FOR IT. Got it? I HATE YOU!!! You are ABSOLUTELY REVOLTING. You are a fucking coward too. You pretend like everything is goddamned rainbows and sunshine when you ought to just face the fact that you hate your job. You can't bear to think of anything that doesn't fit your mold of happiness. Mo says that's how you deal with your stress. Well, dealing with stress and shoving your stress away pretending it's not there are two distinct opposites. Disgusting, cowardly, cruel, bitchy, ugly, fake, lying, deceitful, selfish, HORRIBLE MOTHER. The only reason I wish no ill on you is because I know it would hurt Mo. All the same, I hope you look in the mirror one day and hate yourself for what you've done to your daughter.

Sincerely,

Woman holds the scales

Dear Saint Betty the Bitch,

Fuck you. Fuck you and your twink husband. I hope somebody destroys you one day. You pretend to be some wonderful Christian woman. Why is it that Christians like you are always such sweet and wonderful people at church, but the second they get home they abuse the people that they're supposed to hold in highest regard. I hope that you see the devil, and I hope that you see him in you. Hypocritical bitch. Evil harpy.

Oh, and I hope you get hit in the throat with something and lose your firetruck siren of a voice permanently.

Sincerely,

Woman who knows the truth about hypocritical Christians.

Dear Sweet Wuss Man,

Grow a backbone and stand up to people in your house. I know you're kind and principled. I know you see the treachery. Stop being so afraid of the Matriarch.

Signed,

Outside Viewer

Dear Dad,

I don't love you, and you really can't blame me. How could you be so fiscally irresposible? It's because of you that I'm in this mess, living in this abusive situation. It's because of you that I'm unable to get large enough loans to cover my housing AND my tuition. You promised me that you'd help me pay for my rent. You promised. And then you went back on that promise. I had nowhere to go but here. It was either that, or drop out of school and move back in with you. I'm sure you would have wanted that. Then he could beat the gay out of me with a bible. The only way I could finish school was to move in with Mo and her parents for free rent and food. And because of that, I'm living in an abusive household. AGAIN. I can never get away from it. You backed me into a corner, denied me a necessity, a healthy living situation which should have been mine. You've forced me to skip an important developmental phase. And it's a good thing that Mo is so understanding, or else I would have to break up with her. Because of you. Despite her understanding, I still fear for my relationship. I worry that it's going to end because I have a need that never got met. I know that you'd love for us to break up, you'd love to deny me happiness. Why did you do this to me?

Signed,

Your betrayed and destroyed daughter

Dear Psyche,

Why do you always hurt? Why are you always so desperate? Why are you always bloody and screaming? Why can't you just calm down, stop being inflamed, stop blistering, festering, and poisoning everything around you? You poison me. You fill by body with toxins. You make me sick, make me vomit. And you bruise so easily but never heal. You'll never be cured of the damage done to you when you were two years old, seven years old, a teenager. I wish I could cut you out like a tumor.

Sincerely,

Your host body