I was called "toxic" last night.
I'm sure it's true to an extent, to certain people.
Everyone's toxic to someone.
But the reasons I was called toxic are laughable.
Or rather, what my toxicity caused.
Sure, the "toxic" kid who needed a home is why your mother drinks.
Not the beyond stressful hospital job she has been doing for years.
Not the multitude of death, disease, and illness she's seen,
It's certainly not the daughter who had a drug habit.
Who treats her dementia ridden grandmother like a pest that should be exterminated.
Who has stolen thousands of dollars from her own mother.
Who regularly puts hands on her mother.
Who debased herself on the internet in hopes of getting some extra cash.
Who had her beyond abusive boyfriend live with them, and blamed her friends leaving on her family.
Who bought a dog, never bothered to train him, never bothered to try to introduce him to the other pets, and instead locked all of her cats in her mother's room 24/7.
But yeah, let's say it was the kid who worked most of the time he was there. The kid who let anyone use his car anytime they needed. The kid who brought food to that house at any opportunity he could. The kid who took you EVERYWHERE you needed to go. The kid who trained that dog for you. The kid who did nothing but ensure that everyone knew how much he appreciated that they gave him a home when he needed it.
Was he lazy and selfish most of the time? Sure.
But that home was toxic long before he ever showed up.
The "toxic" kid is the reason his parents fight.
Not because his dad is beyond mentally ill.
Not because his mom is manipulative.
Not because of many other reasons that are none of your damn business, but are between two adults that have been married for 20 years.
And who would do anything for their children.
The parents who hate seeing their child have to leave, because of the toxic home the parents sometimes create.
Maybe I am toxic.
But I sure as shit am not the reason your mother drinks, kiddo.
