Today my housemate’s Mom told her that she had a vision about me. She said she knows what’s wrong with me.
Apparently, my tattoos are causing my autoimmune issues. She looked it up on the internet, clearly the most reliable of sources. Everybody knows that everything on the internet is true! (sarcasm) I get that people without tattoos do not understand people with tattoos sometimes, but guess what? I don’t care if you understand and I don’t care if you approve. I can assuredly guarantee that I will not be concerning myself as to why she doesn’t have any. Normally, this would not bother me at all. My grandmother doesn’t like my tattoos. Fine by me.
But this is why I’m so irritated:
1. She’s bat shit crazy. That’s fine by me, but get some therapy or take some meds to help with the chemical imbalance so that you don’t keep spreading crazy around. This is the whole reason why her daughter and granddaughter are living with me.
2. She hates tattoos. She thinks they’re trashy.
3. I have 4 tattoos. All after the medical issues began. They have really been symbolic to my journey and have helped me heal a great deal of emotional wounds.
One specifically is my self harm insurance policy. It’s next to a scar. It reminds why I will never need to do it again.
And about a week ago there was a whole other incident in which she revealed her wicked witch persona and accidentally made an ass of herself in front of myself, my husband and children. Then she made the mistake of trying to excuse her behavior by blaming my friend and when I politely pointed out the flaws in her argument, she decided to attack me personally and since she didn’t have anything to point out that I had done to her, she’s now trying to make a character flaw out of my uncontrollable medical circumstances and then also decided to blame my tattoos because that too is something she deems as a character flaw.
This woman irritates the piss out of me because she is downright emotionally abusive to my friend that is living with us. In fact, she’s the reason why she’s living with us. The emotional and verbal abuse was so bad that it was toxic to my friend and her daughter and when she realized that I had offered to take her in, she evicted her own daughter and granddaughter a week before Christmas.
Clearly, I am the bad guy here.