Why do I hate being here?

Hmm... Let us ponder that question. First off, I hate being controlled. You control me, I rebel. Need I say more? Skulls are NOT evil. They are the bones that make up your head. Peace signs are NOT broken-down crosses. They are just random lines in a circle. The word 'ass' is not a cuss word. It is merely a man-made word people choose to take offensively. Second, self-expression is not entirely rebellious. I do not ask for drugs, I don't go around tattooing my body. I just want to dye my hair. If that makes me an attention whore, then I guess Mom's an attention whore too. Thirdly, I do mess up. I am not perfect, nor will I ever claim to be perfect. Therefore, stop acting like you're better than me just because you have different beliefs than me. Not everyone is a radical Christian. Some people just have a hard time trusting 'our Father' because our fathers have been terrible fathers. Just because I wear shorter shorts than you would like does NOT mean I want to grab the attention of every horny guy out there. Nor does it mean that I want to show off my body for more attention. You should be happy I even have the self-confidence to wear something besides huge clothes that don't fit me. You should be rejoicing that I'm eating once again. You should be apologizing for not noticing I was dying inside. That I would go to my room and cut my wrists, my neck. You shouldn't be condemning me because I've had an immoral relationship. Yes, 'Mom', I messed up. I am not a little five year old innocent child. I've seen the world. I've seen the dark side of families. And you can only blame yourself for that.If you'd paid attention at night, I wouldn't have learned how to smoke a cigarette, how to steal a car. Had you not shipped me to Cono, I wouldn't know what a real family feels like. I wouldn't know how to accept love from parental figures-especially a fatherly one. Had you not lied to the police and said I threatened your life, I wouldn't have gotten the relationship with my biological family I now have. I wouldn't have known my great-uncle. I wouldn't have met my father. Finally, if not for your filthy lies, I wouldn't know what it's like to feel homeless. I wouldn't know what it feels like to make somewhere home, then be shipped off to another psych ward in six hours. I wouldn't know how evil the world is; how a five foot tall thirteen year old can stab someone trying to help him. I wouldn't have learned to fight, had it not been for your belief to let us work it out on our own. I would have learned to control my temper had you talked to me about it rather than damn me to Hell for it. I would still believe sex to be an immediate damnation. I would still think all families were fucked up in every way. That the word 'family' is just a name for a group of strangers in the same house. If not for you, I would still be your baby girl. But I'm not. It's time to live with that. And until you let the ghost of me go, I won't be able to tolerate you any more than possible.