Apparently, being imaginative and creative makes me a waste of space according to my second eldest brother. Apparently, it makes me worth absolutely nothing. This was what I was told yesterday. he couldn’t have picked a better day to have a go at me. It’s nice to know that basically everything I am and everything I aspire to be is absolutely worthless. I should give him a nickname so that I can refer to him better as I have three brothers. We’ll call this one Mr God Complex…
Mr God Complex is the brother who is married to Mrs Miniature Complex. He’s the one who hates the idea that I might get the house when my parents go. He hates that I am slightly favourited by my mum because I’m the only girl. He also hates my eldest brother, who we’ll call Master Boy-Child. In fact, he hates anyone who might get more attention from my mum than him. This list includes any and all household pets that we may have – especially cats. I really don’t understand why Mrs Miniature Complex decided to marry him. She could do a lot better.
So could Master Boy-Child’s girlfriend (who we’ll call Dr Katzen Von Psyche – which is because she has a degree in psychology and I like her quite a bit so I’m not going to be too mean. Also, the slight German thing was a reference to Freud, because anyone who knows Master Boy-Child should be well-versed in Freud to understand him even a small bit). Master Boy-Child is sort of the opposite of Mr God Complex. He still has a god complex, but Master Boy-Child is terribly narcissistic and blames any and every mistake on our mother, even if she was never there or never knew about the mistake. According to him, his whole life is her fault. He doesn’t usually get in touch unless he wants something or he feels guilty about not seeing us. Recently, this has been shown in a facebook message I received yesterday asking how I am and then jumping to whether or not I know how to spell our mother’s maiden name. Of course I know how to spell it. Of course I haven’t answered.
I’m not sure I will answer, to be perfectly honest.
Then there’s brother number three. I complain about brother number three a lot in here because he’s still at home and he’s not the nicest person in the world. In fact, he has the same selfish traits that his older brothers have too. We’re going to call him Master Berserker. That is a blatant reference to the berserkers that the Norse people used. They were individuals who were sent out into battle in such an uncontrollable, blind rage that they would basically kill and destroy things with no regard for their own life. Master Berserker goes into rages like this.
Anyway, that’s my family at the moment. Mr God Complex thinks I’m worthless and that nothing I’m good at counts for anything. Did I mention that he was saying this in front of Mrs Miniature Complex and my parents yet no one defended me? Well, anyway, they didn’t.
(Lyrics in the title are from Under The Sheets by Ellie Goulding)
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