There really is nothing like the holidays to underscore the depressing reality of one's situation in life. After watching my sister brag about how she called the police on me and lied that I attempted to murder her last year and watching my mother laugh heartily about it I am fucking disgusted with everything. THEY FUCKING FIND IT FUNNY! I suppose they think of the incident along the lines of "no harm, no foul" (since I wasn't arrested), but what they fail to understand is that on that day significant -- perhaps irreparable -- harm was done. I may occasionally joke about wanting to harm certain people, but I AM NOT A MURDERER. Moreover, I think murder is wrong. So I view it as a serious insult when people act as if they truly believe me to be dangerous -- especially when they do so insincerely in order to get me into trouble for their own amusement. Furthermore, I actually care about my sister -- and have never attempted to seriously injure her, let alone kill her -- so for her to call the police and put on a show and tell lies to the effect that I had was a very painful thing for me to experience. She laughed about it then, too. But that was a year ago, and I could perhaps drop it if it weren't so apparent that to this day she is apparently proud of her actions then -- and that our mother views the whole thing as being ridiculously funny. I view their actions and reactions here, at the very least, as betraying their decidedly negative perception of me.

Am I being unreasonable? I don't believe so, but after having a good laugh at this incident, my mother seemed geniunely surprised that I would excuse myself from the table. My reply: "Why would you want to eat dinner with a known murderer?" And yet far from thinking better of their comments and derisive words, I can still hear them talking about and laughing at me as I sit in my room!

I'm done for now. Again, happy Thanksgiving.