Around nine years ago, my mother did something I'll never forget 

It was a Saturday in late August, and I don't think I ate or drank food that morning, she said we'd be getting it after we did stuff at the park

She forced me to exercise a bunch, I remember being exhausted and hot and hungry while being dehydrated and being yelled at by her

I think my two siblings got driven home, but my mother forced me to walk home shirtless

My physically abusive father was also there too for some reason, I guess he just had to tag along for the sake of cathartic release in the form of backpacking off of my mother's hatred for me

I remember they kept screaming at me the entire time about how I was a glutton, a greedy little thief, etc etc etc 

Around halfway through the hazing ritual a black car with a bunch of what looked to be high-school-age white cis girls pulled up next to me and asked me if I was alright

I was going to tell them I was fine but my mother beat me to it 

When I finally got home I thought I'd be allowed inside to cool off, but no, I was forced to sit on the floor while they both yelled at me

My mother showed me a video on her phone she found of a fat white kid dancing to salsa aptly named something along those lines 

She kept asking me if I wanted to be as fat as he was and I kept saying no and she still kept screaming 

I don't remember what happened after that

I remember about four years later though

It was my older siblings hs graduation thing from freshman to sophomore, and I'd just "graduated" 8th grade, so I was in a loose fitting short-sleeved dress shirt that showed off every roll of fat if the wind decided to be cruel, which it usually always is

My mother sent me into the school and kinda just watched from a distance while I walked in and wandered around, looking for my sibling while I had to endure the stares of others passing by

I think my older sibling had snuck out and gotten in the car since I don't remember ever finding them

But apparently that wasn't important, since my mother saw how I acted when I was forced to look for my sibling and she said something as a precursor but I don't remember that, I remember her saying "I want you to be comfortable in your own skin"

Fucking hypocrite 

It's every time 

Every time I have a grievance, every time I want something addressed, it's moved past like nothing that happened counts, like I don't matter 

When I tell her I was in excruciating pain for a week that we never looked into: "that didn't happen" *gets told it DID happen and she kept saying she'd take me to the doctor but she never did → her response is to just nonverbally walk away* 

When I tell her all the horrible shit she's done to me or that's been done to me in general, I'm lying, I'm exaggerating, I'm being dramatic, and on some level she's right

It's in the past and theres no point in rehashing it and I should just move on

I feel indignant though, and that makes me wrong by default

Why is it that I don't matter, regardless of what I do?

Whenever it's me, and ONLY me, she moves on like it's nothing, like my struggles don't matter, like I don't matter

We moved past the fucking decade of physical and mental abuse because I guess since it's not happening anymore then I don't get to whine about it

We move past everything that happened to me fast, because for my older sibling, knowing what they did wrong bruises their ego and makes them hate themselves, "do you want me to hate myself \[\[Deadname\]\]?"

For my little brother, he just doesn't remember it

For my mother, it's a multitude of things, but if I address a single one, "oughhh I could kick you out bro you don't even KNOW I could do it so easily trust me I could just lock the door and never let you back in trust me trust cuz you're a manly manly moidly rapist looking mf and you deserve to br raped but I'm someone they'll believe since im a woman etc etc etc"

We're not allowed to talk about her wrong doings

I'm just the one meant to endure them

We all have our roles, she's the top of the pyramid and I'm the bottom, and if I leave it all crumbles, so I'm the one who HAS to stay

The disposable maid, the cook, the chef, the parent, the babysitter, the dogsitter, etc

She knows how fucked she'd be without me, she just doesn't care to treat me any better

I don't matter and I wish I did to someone, even in my "real" life I'm just an object, a filler character, a piece of furniture, a tool that does its job, or a sad sack with a tragic backstory 

But I live in ✨California✨ so no one here cares either because it's tranny heaven, but no one talks abt the bad parts like the ghetto or Oakland or the fact that if you don't have money then you simply just CANT do ANYTHING

but even still I'm privileged to say that, and I wish I wasn't 

Because if I didn't have it then I'd matter

I just want to matter

And that makes me an attention whore 

Trauma dump