Being the third, and youngest, of three girls I know what it feels like to be picked on. In all honesty, I whined like a baby. However, when it came to talking to my dad I felt like Ihad a shoulder to lean on. My dad and my mom got a divorce a little over a year ago; now where one stood the only family I had ever known, there is a barren, unloving, dishonest hole. My mom is a strong being; she is caring, compassionate, understanding, and most of all hard-headed. Talking to my mother is hard; I used to feel like she never wanted me around. My mom and I would yell and scream and argue to no end, but soon she found out I was crying for help. I still believe to this day that my mom doesn’t avoid talking to me or discussing things, she simply sees a lot in me that resembles my jerk of a father. Maybe she doesn’t know what I am trying to get across to her; consequently, every time I open my mouth she hears an arguement. Friends are not in an abundancy with me, and even those I do hold close, my mom finds it as a bad idea to tell them much about my life and my ordeals. I just want a space to vent it. WELCOME TO TUMBLR!!!!!