My mom had BPD and was gracious enough to pass on some of her traits to me. She was so abusive. I'm trying to deal with it in therapy, but it makes me SO ANGRY still. My dad had a head injury 8 years ago and I am SO FUCKING SAD about it all still. Also, he was really codependent and enabled to her, which I am only just now realizing, and I am  SO ANGRY about him not protecting me more.

I feel like a useless feelings blob. All I'm good for is wallowing in this shit. I feel like I can't accomplish anything worthwhile because my true calling is to have paralyzing resentment about the past. I know I don't always feel this way, but I've felt this way the last few days, and as always it feels like this is just my new permanent reality.

But really, it is always lurking in the background. Like when my mother-in-law tells me I should call my mother on Mother's day, and I do everything I can to keep from yelling at her "YOU WOULDN'T SAY THAT TO THE CHILD OF A SERIAL KILLER, SO SHUT UP BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT" And I feel like I have a tendency to create depressive episodes for non-reasons, the real reason being so I can wallow in self-pity and bitterness.

I've spent so many years with both parents telling me that my feelings were unreasonable or unimportant, that it's like I'm trying to indulge all of that now. I'm trying to be aware that's what's happening, so instead of indulging my taste buds and binging, I'll try to indulge my soul. The day before yesterday, I taped together some giant sheets of paper and painted a big ugly angry painting that said things like "YOU MADE ME THIS WAY" and "THIS IS WHAT A VIOLATED PERSON LOOKS LIKE" I think it was a good thing to do. It didn't make me feel as much better as I wanted to.

Fuck all this shit.