StrangerDanger

These thoughts were triggered by my disbelief of the amount of times I’ve experienced the same experience…

My nerves have no edges and their hairline is now as far back as Weezy’s husband. Why I can’t antagonize my family in peace is beyond me…because all I’m actually doing is taking their attempts to antagonize me and turning it back on them. Last night was filled with back..and forth…shots fired between my little sister and I. She made an executive decision to send her child on a playdate with a woman she doesn’t know…like that…and I saw nothing but red. By the end of the exchange I was both blocked and uninvited to the party I just got invited to a day ago. With no ability to continue tearing her reasoning down…I resorted to texting my trigger happy twin. She gaslit tf out of me so I cut my losses until today when I brought the synopsis to the Gang Goofy chat. (SS’s below.) I have said in a million different ways that these people have to label me crazy in order to cover up their own insanity. And they still refuse to stop proving me right.

I am fully aware that I am not the mother of this child…but I don’t understand how my auntie logic is always dismissed so easily. Do I overstep my boundaries? Perhaps. Do I continue to accuse these people of sacrifice attempts? Mmhm. Does that combination have me coming across as a bipolar helicopter aunt? Only to those who aren’t functioning at full speed. Children don’t always have the courage to use their voices in all situations so someone they trust should always accompany them in social settings. If I didn’t have so much work today I would have been the chaperone…even though I’M NOT THE MOTHER. My little sister literally told me I was acting like my niece was '“going to the club” as a way to gaslight me out of my position of telling her she should be in attendance for this outing. This legitimately feels like the Twilight Zone.

I’m grateful for the amount of regular respect I show my Ancestors…because that has fortified my level of psychological protection. So even when my shoebox appeared to spin, from the manic merry-go-round I was thrown onto, I still came out balanced. Their intention was to have me walking around just as dizzy as they are but I declined the offer. My twin suggesting I’ll be “committed” to a mental institution is what solidified the stamp of Goofy I have given that chat. These people are fools and I know I’m not overreacting. But because they can’t deviate from the script they’ve been reading from all these years…they send these kids into scenes, unprotected, while hoping everything turns out okay…just to spite me. And because their scripts called for the unaliving of my character a very long time ago(IMO)…they are now sitting ducks in their own production. They didn’t factor in my ability to improv so now when they recite lines that used to end my scenes…I ad-lib my way back in by saying things they haven’t had time to rehearse logical rebuttals to. So the end result is a lot of block dancing around a subject they aren’t emotionally intelligent enough to go off script to discuss.

Love,

Choosy