I feel like freakin crap. Christmas always does this to me. I don’t want to talk to anyone I just want to be by myself wallowing (is that a word?) in my own misery. I’m going to try and break down why I feel like crap. First reason: My mom. She pisses me off to no end. I don’t care what day, what second, what year, what freakin decade, she pisses me off. Here is an entry that I wrote about her in one of my online journals: “My mother. I'm sure everyone has stories about how their parents ruined their life or how their parents did this or that. Well my mom has caused me to tell many stories about what she did to me. I've never really written in any of my journals about her because I always felt like I was disrespecting her by saying how I felt. But I'm up to my limit now. She’s just so damn childish! I mean yes, we all struggle through life, but do we have to complain about it every min. of the day?! Ok I understand that you have a sucky job, yes I understand that Granddad bothers the heck out of you, yes I understand that you had a bad childhood, yes I understand this and that, but did you ever consider that I AM 17 years old, and that your still supporting me. I don't think she understands how hard it is to go to a school where EVERYONE has money and parents who at least give them money for the necessities in life. I understand that you can't but me a car or get the expensive package for my Senior Pictures, but can you at least give me some freakin lunch money, or take me to a school function, or least come and see it. But see, you've built this guilt inside of me that I feel bad for feeling like this, but you know what? I'm supposed to feel like this, once again, I'm only 17! Oh, but let's not even get into the subject of my Father. Where is he? Why the Hell won't you tell me where he is or what the story is as to why he left?! I've been waiting for five years for you to me what happened. I just don't understand. But you know what, it's ok. I have only until next August when I turn 18 and then I don't have to depend on you for anything. I'll probably be giving you money then! Now I feel bad for talking about you. I don't care any more; I just want to go to sleep! lol Goodnight.” Now I know for Christmas were supposed to be thankful for everything we have and not be, I guess stuck up or whatever. But I feel like s*&%. You know why?! When I woke up this morning, Christmas morning, there was nothing under the tree for me to unwrap. No loving parent to come in my room and open up all the curtains and wish me a Merry Freakin Christmas. All I got was telephone call from my mom saying she wasn’t going to be able to make it to yet another family event. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas my family gathers at my uncle’s house to eat and fellowship. Most people don’t want to come, but you go, eat, say hello, act fake, and leave. That’s it. But does she want to come, NO. So, sleepily I say into the phone, “Sure mom, whatever, oh yeah, and Merry Christmas.” I don’t expect nor do I ask my Grandmother for anything. She is my Grandmother, not my mom, is not her job to take care of me, so I feel she does not need to buy me anything extra because my mom doesn’t. So I get to my uncles house and we all eat and like I said before, act fake and all that good stuff. Finally comes the unwrapping of presents. I think to myself, I know these people Love me, this is where I’m going to feel some Christmas cheer. Open the first present: A little pullover jacket, that’s nice, I guess. Open Second present: an over-sized shirt from Kohl’s. Thanks I say. I watch my cousins open their gifts and they have new shoes, coats, and other assortments. Damn. Miguel left out again. But I think to myself, it’s ok. THIS IS NOT WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ABOUT, IT’S OK!!! We go home, a couple of hours later my mom pulls into driveway. YAY, or not. She comes in saying, “I’m sorry, this isn’t the best Christmas.” I sat to myself, “When has this EVER been a good Christmas.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out some money. And I’m like, yay, I’m about to get me my Christmas on. I look at it; it’s a twenty and ten dollar bill. OKAYYYY, I say to myself. THIS IS NOT WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ABOUT, IT’S OK!!!