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It Wasn’t Supposed To Happen This Way


Sure, You Can Blame It On Me… Again.

So much has happened and gone wrong, that I don’t even know where to start right now. So, I guess I will start with my dog, Max. On Tuesday, I had stopped by my mom’s house to pick up meds because we made to go to his therapist’s office days in a row and it was almost two hours away. While I was there my brother kept telling me to take my dog with, and I explained that he’s not allowed at the apartment due to managements new rules, which my mother knew about, and also I wasn’t about to leave Max to sit in a hot car that could potentially kill him.

My brother was not grasping this concept and was making me feel bad, and of course, like always, my mom was instigating the situation. Now, I had previously asked my mom is she would keep Max and she pretty much said no. So I told my friend Jazmine about this, and she talked to her family and decided that she would take Max for me. Her kids were so excited, and I figured it would be really good for them since their dad had passed away.

On Wednesday, I called my mom to tell her that Jazmine would be taking Max, and she threw a fit. I told her that he is my dog, and it’s my choice. Besides, she didn’t want him and her and my brother was giving me such a hard time about watching him. She continued to protest and said that Jazmine’s kids would kill him, or that he would run away, or that he wouldn’t get along with her cats. She was simply saying anything she could think of, but ultimately she agreed, or so I thought.


Not even 10 minutes later, I get a phone call from my brother who was chewing me out saying how it’s messed up that I would assume they were going to take care of him, and I told him I didn’t assume that, and that’s why Jazmine is taking him. THEN he tried to tell me that Max has a cracked rib, and I asked him why he would think that. So, apparently, my lovely mother lied to my brother and told him I beat the shit of out of my dog and cracked his rib. This is total bull shit. The funny thing is, my mom told me that my brother, Jeremy, beat the crap out of his dog, Teddy. There she goes instigating the situation again. I mean, seriously! I can’t even clip my dog’s nails myself because it makes me sad when he yelps because he’s scared! I always have to have someone do it for me! I bet she forgot to mention that to my brother.

So, Jeremy was making me feel like a total piece of shit. He said that basically, they are NOT going to give me my dog. They refuse to let Jazmine take him. She had to break her kid’s hearts, after everything they have just been through, and tell them that they aren’t getting the dog. What the f*** is wrong with my family??? I talked to my therapist about everything and she told me that I do have options and she informed me as to what they are.

I got so pissed off, and so frustrated that I told him them I am moving out this weekend. I haven’t spent a night there since. I just can’t deal with them. I’ve gone twice so far to pick up some of my belongings but there is still a hell of a lot of my stuff still left there. AND they said that Mike is not allowed to help me move my things out. So, yeah, great… thanks, guys.

Even my therapist said to just get my things and be done with them. And what’s sad is all this stemmed from me just trying to live my life the way I want to live it. The first day I went to go pick of some of my things, my mom wouldn’t even look at me, and wouldn’t even say a single F-in word to me. And WTF… they both didn’t want Max, now all of a sudden they are keeping him from me.

I told my therapist all about previous circumstances that happened between them and me before and the similarities, the manipulation, the lies, the need for them to always be right, and about all the condescending hypocritical bullshit that I have dealt with my entire life. dysfunctional-family-story-an-anthology

I have always been the bad one. The irresponsible one. The black sheep of the family. The one who’s always wrong. There is absolutely no point in me trying to defend myself or to speak my words. This is past words. This is dysfunctional and irreversibly broken right now. But hey, what the hell… everyone is always blaming everything on me. Why try to change it at this point? So, sure, you all can blame everything on me, yet again, just like you guys always have. If that helps you sleep at night, so be it.

Even my dad agrees that the situation is pretty fucked up. He knows I am back with Mike, and even living with Mike. He told me to do whatever is going to make me happy. He told me that even if he doesn’t like something that one of his kids are doing, that doesn’t mean he is going to cast them out and turn his back on them. He said he will still support all of his children. And I respect that. I just wish he didn’t live so far away because I could definitely use some added support right about now.


I am just so angry with everything right now that it’s not even funny. The song, “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace, keeps popping into my head at the moment. Because right now, I am kind of hating a lot of people and wondering why I even love them. Is it because I am supposed to or feel obligated to love them? I sure as hell feel like they all hate me because if they don’t actually hate me they have a funny, funny way of showing. The way I have been treated by so many people within the last week or two, kind of makes me hate myself and doubt myself.

Things were not supposed to happen this way. I was really pushed into making quick decisions. And it saddens me. A lot. I just have to try to make the best out of this ugly situation. I just think it’s completely messed up that throughout everything, I never turned my back on anyone. Not even my mom when she chose to stay with someone who beat her up and tried to kill her kids. I didn’t even turn my back on her when she allowed the prick to move back in with her. Or when she didn’t push my brother harder to kick him out when he threated to “get rid of her.” But, yet, it’s so easy for her to turn her back on me. Again. Hypocrite.

My dad told me to ask her if she’s really willing to lose a daughter over this, and I simply told my dad I’m not even going to bother asking her that because we both already know the answer. And he simply replied back that it’s sad. Story of my life.

-Samantha ♥




Samantha View All

Samantha is the author of "My Bipolar Mind: You're not alone," she is also a freelance writer, blogger, and mental health advocate who runs and manages her own mental health blog

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