My Fucking Sister Is A Piece Of Shit

When you plan to give somebody a simple gift of a book that you know they would love, and they spit in your face and say "Keep it, I'm trying to get rid of stuff." Like a fucking BOOK takes up a ton of space. 

Guaranteed she's buying some damn ugly piece of 1950s furniture this week, or some tacky green opaque glassware to fill her cabinets with and feel like she's so fucking bougie.

Fuck her and her pretentious, phony, all about appearances, bullshit self.

(Note: A LOT of anger inside, proceed at your own risk.)

Go ahead and deny your family history. It's still there. And your father would be fucking ashamed of you, you fucking plastic Barbie doll.

For the record, I am talking about my plastic and fake and asshole sister, Gwyneth, who thinks her shit doesn't stink, and is ashamed of every fucking member of her family, except now that he's dead she's talking about our Dad as if she had been real close to him instead of pretending he was no relation. She hates her mother, she hates her sister and brother, she hasn't contacted our uncle in about fifteen years even though he has BEGGED her to (and he has NOT done anything to deserve this), she hates our cousins and our aunt. She is ashamed of the whole lot of us, with the exception of my psychotic 34 year old daughter who has alienated all of her siblings (and that's seven of them, folks) and her father, stepmother, Sam, and me with her absolute borderline, histrionic, and just plain psychotic bullshit. But that kid is another story. 

Well, I am done with my fucking sister. I am ashamed of HER and her kindred hatred. Our father is spinning in his grave about what a fucking awful person she is. 

Over and over, time and again, I have gone No Contact with her, then welcomed her back into my life because it looked like she had stopped being a shallow and phony plastic person. This is the last time. She can die alone for all I care, because I won't let her back into my life to belittle me and sneer at me and be a cunt when I try to do nice things for her.

This book was just the final straw. It's been building for a while. She makes snide and judgemental comments on my Facebook, she makes nasty comments in text messages on my phone, she's always body shaming me and telling me how fat I am as if I was unable to see that for myself (and she doesn't do it in a loving way, she does it in a MEAN way - "Jenn, your're enormously fat, how can your husband stand to look at you?"), she refuses to speak on the phone, because she is too important to do that. It's gotta be text or nothing. 

When we were kids she fucking brutalized me, digging her nails into my arm every time she got mad at me, drawing blood. Once she threw me in our closet, then shoved a dresser in front of it so I couldn't get out. No adults were home, and I pounded and screamed for hours. She was not a little girl then, she was a fucking teenager and damn well knew what she was doing. Thank GOD she was unable to get pregnant, God knows what abuse she would have thrown on her children.

I just blocked a bitch on my phone and unfriended her. I have no time for anybody who thinks she's so much better than me and the rest of the family.

I think I'll put this on my blog, too. Because FUCK her.

I'm sure some of our mutuals will delete me over this. All I can say to them is, you weren't there. You haven't dealt with this shit for 61 years. She is all about making the surface look nice and shiny, but underneath that nice shiny surface of smooth water, there's a load of raw sewage.