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Let's just change the subject guys. I'm sorry for bringing it up to begin with. I've been under a lot of stress the last couple of days and I actually completely deleted my Facebook account this morning because a lot of the stress has to do with logging on only to see people lashing out in such violent hate speech towards one another over issues just like this and I refuse to allow it to hurt me anymore and I refuse to contribute to a self-destructing genocidal zeitgeist. I am far too empathic for my own good.
I made my third and final attempt this morning to make some sort of peace or get closure with my grandfather and he yelled at the whole time and would speak over me when I was trying to ask him why he didn't tell me about my grandmother dying but told the other grandkids and his response was, "that's bullshit". He is my grandfather and rather than even trying to explain to me why he thinks I'm wrong or to put my mind at ease, which has been a fucking racehorse for the last few years, which him and the rest of the family know I have been extremely depressed and even suicidal at one time, but he doesn't even care. He really wasn't counting on me ever bringing that up I am sure but the mushrooms brought out all these repressed memories and feelings that I locked away because I couldn't deal with them at the time in knowing my grandfather was this perfect person I thought he was and since he refuses to even try to see things from my point of view and just wants the conversation over and done with, that to me proves that he knows I'm right. He told me this morning he doesn't want to talk to me ever again and that's fine. After my grandmother died the whole family showed their true colors and not one of them can even tell me what their problem is. I feel ashamed to come from a family of such pussies.
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