Dear Joe,
Tonight I "divorced" my parents. I know you were initially thinking a traditional marriage divorce, anyone would be at the title of this posting.
But No.. I finally divorced my folks. They gave me no choice really.
For years mom has been using the dogs to get what she wants from me, or to "punish" me by not allowing me to see them. Now we are down to only 1 (Shelby) who of course is my favorite so this is going to be the hardest on me yet.
I'm sure I don't need to explain why for the past years as you have witnessed a lot of the bullshit that went on, but tonight I had enough.
I'm done. I'm out.
I don't know if you remember the very loud and obnoxious bird my mom had, I'm not sure she had it when you were around.
Anyway, it was this cockatiel that was the biggest bastard with feathers that ever lived. True Story.
All it did was scream its head off and bite everyone but her.
I don't like loud noise to begin with, much less constant loud noise, repetitive loud noise... I think you get the picture.
This animal got the squirt bottle so many times its feathers were soaked almost constantly because it wouldn't shut up.
My mom would throw things at the cage, bang on it, and even yell back at the damn thing to quiet down.
She blamed it on the bird being lonely, bored, it needed attention, etc.
Well than give it some attention! Hell no...she would rather just laze around in her bed watching TV in a half catatonic state.
Nothing has changed.
After years of me screaming back at it, getting irritated because I can't hear my own friggen thoughts over the sound of that bird, I came over one day to find that it was gone.
OMG... I wanted to do a damn victory dance SOOO BAD.
Of course you know had I done that, she would have lost her mind and been a total bitch about it.
She doesn't like to admit that the bird was a giant bastard. NO ONE liked it besides her.
No One.
This was about 1-2 months ago that she gave it to someone else.
I can't tell you how HAPPY I was when that happened. Now I could visit "Shelby" in peace.
Up until last night.
When asked what I wanted for Christmas & Birthday I said all I wanted was to spend quality time with "Shelby". Just her and I.
That is really all I wanted. She is going to be 17 years old in 2 months and her health isn't so great anymore so I am trying to spend as much time with her as I can.
That came to a grinding halt tonight. I knew something was up when mom came in around 9:00PM and said she and Carl were going to be gone for a little bit. I asked what they were doing and she wouldn't answer.
Red Flag right there.
Fast forward 45 minutes later, and I kid you not, the front door wasn't even open yet and what did I hear?
Yes, Screaming... That damn bird is back.
At that point I had enough. Enough to the point that I had to pick "Shelby" up and put her in my parents room, gathered my things (I was supposed to stay there for the holidays), and walked out.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Carl looked at me puzzled and my mom who was standing at the other end of the hallway with the birds cage asked me where I was going. I said I was going home.
Mind you it is after 10PM at this point.
I shut the door behind me. Couldn't get to the car fast enough. Just as I was getting my last bag into the car, the front door opens up and mom is yelling for me to come talk to her and tell her what is wrong.
I just looked at her and said that she knew why I was leaving. She did.
She slammed the door.
Of course. That is her signature move besides from hanging up the phone on you.
I drove home in tears.
Tears out of frustration; She should have left that damn animal where it was.
Tears because I feel like I have turned my back on Shelby. I love that dog more than anything, and now I won't be able to see her anymore.
Tears because this ruined both Christmas AND my Birthday.
This has been a long time coming... it is no surprise. I was just hoping that it would have been after "Shelby" passed away.
Unfortunately as always, I didn't get my way.
I hope one day I get a normal family, and not the supremely fucked up one I was raised with.
Maybe that is what I need to ask "Santa" for this year.
That could be my best idea yet.
I hope your holiday is a hell of a lot better than mine.
I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.
Love,
"Jill"
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