But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- About Mom I walk into my therapist's office and flop down on the couch. "I hate my mother." My mom had called the house and asked Jori for my therapist's number. I got on the phone and gave it to her. She had said, "I am really worried about the fighting between you and your brother. You, Gwen, have gotten out of control." Click. I banged the phone on the reciever after she hung up. She makes me so angry. "Gwen, I am really proud of you. This is the best I have seen you emotionally." I gave her a quizzical look. What could she mean? I am ready to kill my mother, who is an absolute bitch, and is spreading lies about me. "You are gaining your independence. You aren't as enmeshed with your mother, and you are standing up for yourself. You aren't letting her manipulate you as much, and you are standing up for yourself more, even if that does mean breaking down a door. Big deal. She broke yours a year ago and never bought you a new one." A big smile crossed my face. I feared she would be mad at me. My mom had also said I had been bingeing and purging constantly, which is a lie. I haven't purged in days. She also failed to mention that I spent $65 on groceries, made dinner, and have kept the house spotless. "Do you notice you blame all your problems on Gwen?" My therapist asked my mom. To this my mom became very defensive, yelled at my therapist, and hung up. At least someone else besides me and Jori can see what a cruel person my mom can be. This morning, after I finished my homework, I heard my mom on the phone. "Of course she doesn't want to go to a hospital mom. She is 18. They take away your underwear. It isn't cozy anymore!" I scoffed. Sometimes, I just want to leave, and never talk to that bitch again. 11:20 a.m. - 2003-11-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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