If she’s so perceptive how come she can’t see how depressed I am

I feel like I’m in prison with no hope for parole. The days stretch out before me an endless chain of temper tantrums, juice boxes, and messes.

The other day Sister #3 and I had an argument about how perceptive she is. She claims she’s super sensitive and can tell what people are thinking just by how they act or re-act. She told me how she knew what I had complained to our other sisters about before they even said anything.

I told her that’s probably because she knew that her actions were wrong and that any normal person would complain about the way she was acting. She denied that claim, saying it was because I was acting judgmental.


If she were so fucking perceptive she would see how this living situation has depressed the hell out of me. It’s killing me and I can’t take much more. The messes, the noise, the not being able to read or write, the having to constantly be on guard lest my stuff continue to get ruined. I can’t do it much longer. I just don’t know what to do.

(Visited 14 times, 1 visits today)


  1. Lori 23.Mar.08 at 12:04 pm

    You’re doing the right thing by being there for the boys, but don’t let your sister take advantage of your kindness or run over your feelings. You deserve better than that! Hang in there, Jodi. It will get better, and looking back years from now, you’ll know you did the right thing — even though it wasn’t easy.

  2. PeeWee 23.Mar.08 at 1:01 pm

    Change the locks and go to the beach for a vacation?

  3. Lerren 23.Mar.08 at 11:13 pm

    I really, really understand. What might be an option would be to see if the sister club could take turns, or, failing that, chip in for a hotel. You being so depressed and stressed is not helping anyone – least of all your sister or the boys. As far as the destruction of property stuff, I know that’s rough. You have every right to be super pissed about it. I second lori – you do deserve better than that.

  4. Thomas 24.Mar.08 at 10:01 am

    When life hurls lemons at you with alarming force, fuck the lemonade and hole up until it stops. Then take your war stories and write a book, “Fox-whole Faith” or something.


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