Honestly I’m in a bad mental state. I’ll admit it. I’m splitting while writing this.

It’s been years, years of smoking, weed, and arguments. And I’m so fucking sick of it. Sick of the way my nose burns, chest tightens, and my fists clenching. And before you question, “is this you smoking?” No, it’s my parents.

I’ve told them for YEARS I hate that they smoke, and I told them to not do it around me or I’ll yell at them. I think it’s pretty fucking clear I hate it??? I’ve told them to their face, but they fucking LAUGH. It all stems to when I was 6 ish, caught them in the bathroom smoking weed from a bong, breathing it out into the vents.

{present day, I’m 13.} I walk into the house after being gone for 4 hours, walking and playing with these dogs right? I open the door and walk up one step. It smells like FUCKING WEED. Smoke all around the fucking house. I’m already livid, I’ve told you 73 times. Isn’t that enough..!? And yes I’ve kept count because I’m petty as fuck. So i immediately say “I’m not doing this.. I’m just gonna go back.” And then my dad stops me like “I didn’t know you were coming back.” OF COURSE YOU DIDN’T!! EVEN THOUGH I TOLD YOU RIGHT BEFORE I LEFT??? DOES IT JUST GO THROUGH YOUR LEFT EAR AND PUT YOUR RIGHT? Anyway. So yeah. I was mad. I had the right to? So I stormed to my room as I’m so sick and tired of this addiction they have. Are they trying to make me like my sister? Make me addicted at 13 like her?

Before you feel sympathy for my dad, look at my other stories before commenting. Anyway cut my mom some slack.

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