I used my mother's notebook to write a Christmas play. My mother said I shouldn't have used her notebook and burned my play in the fireplace.
I used clay to make a scale model of every planet in the solar system. I strung it up on a string in my room. My mother yanked the string down.
I was into Ronald Reagan so I drew up a list of every state and how many delegates voted for Reagan and how many voted for Ford. When the convention was over I taped it to my wall. My mother ripped it in half and tore it down.
My father and mother would have arguments late at night. My mother would scream at the top of her lungs. Then, to hurt my father's feelings, she would come in my room and hit me.
I have to conclude that even if my mother didn't go to hell for killing herself she went to hell for all the hurtful shit she did to me.
My mother is still hurting me even though I'm now 54 years old. I can't put to one side all the shit she did to me, and I am still angry at my father for letting her do it to me.
Also, I'm angry at God. Almost all the bad things that have happened to me is because my personality is defective due to the shitty things my mother did to me. I've prayed and prayed and God kept allowing these bad things to happen. I got so angry I stopped going to Mass. I was a bad example for my children and now they don't go to Mass either.
Despite what my mother did to me, I'm the one who paid for her grave so that she could have a nice memorial plaque. Had I not done that, she'd be in an unmarked grave forever.
