I think I'm going about this in totally the wrong order, but whatever. I never have done things quite right. And I'm sure the subject of my ire will confirm that whole heartedly.
I'm angry that she thinks she is such a victim.
I'm angry that she seems to hate us for no reason. (Unless you can consider opportunity, encouragement, love and a nice trip to Florida no reason.)
I'm angry that she is putting us through this.
I'm angry that she is just a selfish little brat who doesn't have a clue.
I'm angry that she thinks we owe her.
I'm angry that she can thrive in another woman's home while being nothing but hateful in mine.
I'm angry that we're having to put on smiles and pretend that everything is okay while our hearts are breaking.
I'm angry that she is still running my house when she no longer even lives in it.
I'm angry that she was so mean to her Dad when he was just going to the school to pay for HER bus pass.
I'm angry that she wants to use us and make demands and she thinks that this is okay.
I'm angry that she has told her Gramma and Godmother to leave her the hell alone.
I'm angry that she has so little respect for herself and her family.
I'm angry that she doesn't see that having friends who are okay with the way she is acting means that she needs to pick her friends better.
I'm angry because while she is happy as can be and apparently doing well, I can't see that for myself.
I'm angry that she has taught her sisters that running away is okay. Because it is so clearly not.
I'm angry that she phones just so she can pick fights and make demands and that she succeeds in making me feel lousy.
I'm angry that this is taking all my energy and the result is that I'm probably not the mother I should be to my other kids.
I'm just plain old fucking angry.