Welcome to Paradise

"Dear Mother,
Can you hear me whining?"
Fuck me I'm in a funk again. Albert Einstein said, " Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character." I fear that my character is in jeopardy due to my declining attitude. I'm tired, overwhelmed, terrified and angry. I'd like to say I'm not feeling like myself, but I don't actually know who I am. Apparently, some people seem to think that they do. To some I've got it good: Live-in babysitters, a free place to live, and a skinny ass. Well, everything comes with a price. The reality of all that is, I'm an emotional prisoner to a significantly unstable, controlling, and hateful mother. The only person in my life who has ever been capable of pushing me to the point of hurting myself, is her. It's extremely difficult to admit to that fact, but there it is. In this house I am treated as a 13 year old. It is made clear that my purpose is to serve her, follow her every order, and accept that I am a useless, ungrateful, and despicable person. Today's beating revolved around the fact that I am a terrible, neglectful, disappointment of a parent. I spend far too much home time doing my job and my child is suffering greatly because of it. Beating myself up for this just isn't enough.
My sweet-ass living conditions consist of a two "room" partially finished, cat piss soaked basement. Absolute fucking paradise. So comfortable and cozy with its damp mint green and pink cement walls, why would I ever want to give this shit up?
It's virtually free living. The deal is, we pay $100 a week to go toward food expenses and we do the majority of the cleaning. The money generally, is not spent on my food due to my unrealistic need to purchase "expensive, specialty" foods. Therefore, I simply purchase said foods (egg white, frozen veggies and yogurt) and stash them to prevent further ridicule.
That's how I get this hot ass of mine. I'm currently weighing in at 173.5lbs. Go me, I'm so freakin' skinny. My amazing body is made up of flaps and folds of loose skin that remind me of rising bread dough after it has been punched down. My inner arms ooze out of my short sleeves and my breasts pool at the bottoms of my bra cups. Who wouldn't want a body like mine?
I present well, but in reality, I am not who you think I am. I am doing the best I can, but sometimes my best just doesn't seem to be enough. Today I feel like a fraud and a failure.
Despite my whining, poor me attitude, I am fully aware of the fact that I have chosen this path and not all of it is bad. This bump, this glitch in the system, will pass and I will move forward. I need to take the control that I've allowed others to have over me. Don't assume you know me and stop fucking underestimating my potential, I will prove you wrong.