After a month of constant wedding questions, I started to feel like I was being smothered – I picked a wedding date a year and a half away thinking that maybe if we had a long time to plan, my mom and future MIL would stop bombarding me. Nope, the 2020 Std Stop The Donald Don_t Let the infection spread shirt so you should to go to store and get this questions kept coming. I am more of a last-minute decision kind of girl, so having to answer questions about centerpieces and mother of the groom dress colors so far ahead of schedule (or ever) brought me to a level of anxiety I had never experienced before, and I am a naturally anxious person. She came out of the starting gate completely furious. No, build-up. Like Regan’s demons in the Exorcist or a drunk Mel Gibson ranting at his wife. She was close to incoherently raging. She attacked me on many levels and cursed at me numerous times. All the while, they excuse or handwave away the ways we’re already heading toward a more broken system akin to Venezuela’s: incompetent and corrupt leadership, crony capitalism, paramilitary forces unaccountable to We The People and more.
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Once she almost hit me over the 2020 Std Stop The Donald Don_t Let the infection spread shirt so you should to go to store and get this head with a ceramic plate. She only stopped cause I called her out on it and brought her back to her senses cause even my ~8 year old self knew that was extreme. I know parents are supposed to “spank” your butt or what not when their kids misbehave but she would hit us for no real reason. One occasion I remember clearly: my sis wanted to weigh these two picture frames that were placed above my mother’s bed so when we placed the frames back my sis left one crooked. I was laying on the floor watching tv when my mother got home and saw what horrible thing we had done. She came at me with a pair of pants telling me my sister ratted me out that I had left the frame crooked (yes, my sis threw me under the bus, but what could you expect from a scared 7 year old. Once she was done using the pants she started punching my arm so that I could snitch on my sister too, and of course I did, to stop her punches. To this day I still can’t believe how absurd she was about the frames. Weight was another issue as I grew up because it has always been important to my mom. Fat=Ugly in my mom’s world. She made us believe we were fat when we def were not. She liked to call me ‘tres barrigas’ which means ‘three bellies’ and just engraved in my brain that I was fat and made me feel horrible about it. Never thought someone could like me for the way I looked if not even my mom liked the way I looked. It really damaged my self-esteem, which I continue to struggle with to this day. I still have no confidence in myself since my social skills are shit. I was never allowed to question her since she made me feel dumb for asking them, which played a huge role in my experience in school and college. I never understood why I disliked raising my hand and felt like asking a question was the end of the world. Why was it so uncomfortable to be put on the spot? My damn mother always snapped at us when we asked questions. It would always turn into a fight and made me scared to ask questions in any situation. Made me believe people were gonna laugh at my question and think I’m stupid. I’m still struggling with asking questions but at least I’m aware and am working on it.