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10:53 a.m. - 2006-05-15
Don't judge, I'm just doing a partial lobotomy.
How old does a child have to be in order to be held accountable for the negative things in her life? 16? 18? 25? 12?

I really want to know.

The great state of Arkansas will try you as an adult at the age of 16. Yet legally, you have no other rights, such as voting, or drinking alcoholic beverages until years later. You can get shipped off to fucking Iraq, and DIE for Bush's stupid mistakes, but heaven fucking forbid if you'd like to have a beer with your pizza when out to dinner with friends. That would be immoral.

I'm not asking about culpability of actions for simple reasons of drinking or voting. I'm waay beyond those minimum required age limits. What I have been grappling with is blame. and self-castigation. What I'm trying to determine is exactly how much of the shit I experienced as a 12 to 19 year old is my fault, and how much is directed to the parents. Yeah, I need to play the blame game. If it was me, then I will work towards self-forgiveness. (which is very, very difficult for me) and if it was my parents, then... well... they're both dead so fuck 'em. Bitches. Kidding. Sort of.

So here are some simple questions that I will answer myself, then review to see if my initial response also correlates with my gut instinct. We'll do this my way, methodical. And maybe I'll figure it out if I see things in simple black and white.
Here goes. Try not to be appalled. I do live in the fucking south, but we had shoes. And a vacation home.

Was it my fault they were both alcoholics?


Was it my fault Daddy was a closet-homosexual who came out to Mom after 20 years of marriage?


Was it my fault that Mom beat the holy hell out of me because my smart-assed mouth, temperament, and general shitty teenage attitude drove her insane?


Was it my fault my father always believed I was another man's child?

No. I would actually rejoice if we did not share a gene pool.

Was I to blame for their divorce?

Partially. Daddy hated me and Mom always defended me. I was fodder for lots and lots of arguements.

Is my sister a better person than I because she sat in the living room while they beat the hell out of each other and I hid in the bedroom?

No. That just proves my sister is a bigger dumbass than I. I atleast had the foresight to turn the radio loud so I couldn't hear. She did, however, learn many, many more curse words than I did at an early age.

Was it my fault that after a year of living with my biological mother, she literally threw me into the streets (after beating the hell out of me again. what is it with these bitches that I inspire violence)

No. She was a cracked out whore who deserves everything bad thing karma dumps on her doorstep.

Was it my fault that my Momma killed herself even though she tried so many times before and I thought she was just crying wolf again and she called me to tell me she was doing it and to say goodbye? and I knew she was drunk and alone and where she was at but i didn't call 911 or anything because of 1001 different reasons.

I can't answer this one. But I honestly
feel that if I had called 911 that night she'd still be alive.

Okay, I can't think of anything else right now. I will ponder the above to see if anything generates an ephipany.

Wish me luck. (cleaning out the proverbial mental closet)



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