where are my fellow adult victims of childhood abuse & neglect who scammed money via fake door-to-door wrapping paper sales to fund their scholastic book fair purchase of the latest Lurlene McDaniel while dreaming of getting cancer so someone would finally pay attention to them?

i wrote my own version of one of these gut-punchers when i was in 8th grade where i literally died and my mom was too drunk to come to the hospital to say goodbye.

(therapy around mother’s day always pulls up some really sparkling gems from the repressed memory bank)

if you feel weird about mother’s day bc you have/had a bad mom, you’re not alone. it sucks. we deserved better.