Saturday, November 16, 2019

Hormone Monster: Tales of teen bloodlust

#HormoneMonster: tales of teenage sibling hate during PMS 

I'm home alone, for the first time in forever, and there are actually still some potato chips in the bag! I never get to just enjoy chips, or any snack. Because I'm the family's trash compactor, of all foods that my siblings will not eat. 

I'm enjoying the salt, and crunch; and in walks my sister, already eyeing up the chips, and making her move to take the bag away. 

I immediately go to the defensive, saying, "no," and push her away. "This is MY fucking bag of chips, bitch!" 

I had worked too hard to keep calm through food wars with siblings over the years, for a fucking chip battle today. I thought, 'are these chips worth this fight that I'm about to have?,' and decided that yes, indeed, they are worth every second of the upcoming fight. I'd been fighting cravings and emotions, and crazy fights kept popping up, because my sisters loved to talk smack. So yes, she deserved a taste of the pain I get, while defending her mouth with my face. 

She thinks she's funny, and tries again. Ot doesn't help her cause, at all. I know her moves. I grew up studying my sisters, because they would gang up on me, when they were chubby and I didn't yet have strong enough muscles to fight them both off of me, alone; and without getting caught hurting them. No matter that they were the ones who came after me. 


I grab her by her hair, and ram her face into my kneecap, and as she screams loudly, her boyfriend walks in. I slam her head once more, pushing her into the barstools and bar. I'm no stranger to fights and have fought dudes, but I know her boyfriend wouldn't hit me. And I acknowledge it to myself, that Im trusting a man to choose NOT to strike me, and trusting his morals and ethics. So when he tried to help my sister, I mistake his move, but dont want to hurt him. I literally reach into my underwear, yank out my bloody pad, and put it on his shirt, using the half-useless adhesive that's barely holding anything together. It was beautiful! And glorious! And I was filled with disgusting pride at my successful tout of PMS-rage that I'd absolutely be hearing about for decades to come! Yay! *little celebration*

And they're instantly disgusted, and shocked! Enough time for me to grab the bag of chips, smack my sister, and run to my room with the bag of fucking chips. 

But I got MY fucking chips. 

Quit making your children compete against one another. And quit shaming the ones you force into servitude, to do your bidding for acceptance or attention. It's disgusting, and pathetic. 

And I'm being honest about my shadiest of shady shit here. You think anyone not mentally #afflicted would feel compelled to admit all they've had to do in order to survive. Shaming a victim is horrible, defending the abuser is worse. Let them eat their own mistakes and pain, as you've wandered, aimed incorrectly, at a constantly moving target of someone else's desires. Something you only know you want, because  it will bring someone else happiness. 

In conclusion, dont fuck with my chips, as I'm obviously touchy about food. Shame me if you feel the need. I will always feel the need to point out your lack of compassion, for most people. 

Because most people will only help those they know and associate with on a daily basis. They cannot look far enough outside their circle, to even try and make a single connection, or help someone they know in their hearts to be worthy and deserving. 

No comments:

Post a Comment