In all my years of therapy, I only mentioned my former step-mother to my psychologist a few times which is kind of shocker because she was such a bitch. It was bad enough that my biological dad is schizophrenic, was an alcoholic, and would snort whatever he could find. My ex stepmother was bipolar and an alcoholic or as I experienced, a mean and vindictive drunk.
Every time my bio dad “Tom” would piss her off, “Kathy” didn’t just keep it between them. Oh, no, that’s too simple. The bitch would take it out on me and put me in the middle of whatever bullshit fight they were going through at the time.
I was only 9 years-old when it first started since that’s when I met my biological father for the very first time seeing how he was MIA all those years prior.
Blah, blah, blah, to the point.
Tom and Kathy were still engaged when I met my dad for the first time. 6 months later they married, and I spent three weeks seeing some very interesting chaos and dysfunction in the Kathy/Tom household. They would have the most fucked up, twisted fights in front of us kids… I had two step-brothers.
There was that one time when Kathy had a bitch fit when my dad came home from work and wanted to take me out to dinner. Just me and him. For the first time since he came into my life 6 months prior. The bitch had a fucking meltdown over the mere suggestion of Tom and I getting to know each other as father and daughter.
It became a Defcon 5 and my uncle had to pick up the three of us and get us out of that insanity. All because my dad wanted to take me out to dinner.
By the time we had gotten back, things had simmered down and my step-brothers and I huddled together on the couch while the two lovebirds went at it again well into the early morning.
The three of us fell asleep on the couch and had a rude awakening the next morning. The bitch was going ballistic and my brothers and I were hiding underneath the blankets on the couch. When the soon to be newlyweds ended up in the kitchen with their fighting, dear Kathy set a fine example by picking up a knife from the counter and threatened to kill Tom. I remember peeking out from the blankets while she was waving the knife around his face.
If that’s not true love. I don’t know what is.
So, despite the relationship from hell, they actually went through with the wedding.
Dear sweet baby jeebus.
The bitch made me flower girl and by this point, I was shell-shocked from my weeks of hell with Tom and Kathy but because it was the wedding day, people mistook it for me being overcome with emotion. Yeah, it was terror and the culprits were the two people who were supposed to be somewhat sane and stable adults.
The wedding was a shit fest for me and so fake. Especially after the absolute madness I witnessed over and over again within their relationship.
Okay, it’s time to toss the bitchy bride’s bouquet. I didn’t want any part of it. Mostly, I just wanted to get away from her crazy ass. I also found that most of her friends seemed to have hit every crazy, superficial, branch on the bat shit tree. Lucky me had to stand amongst these bitches who were ready to take down anyone who got in the way of the bridal bouquet.
I put my 9 year-old ass in the back so I wouldn’t be trampled on and then the flowers were thrown. I was running away from that mess like a quarterback doing whatever the hell a quarterback does.
That’s when it happened. I accidentally caught the fucking flowers. I couldn’t care less and just wanted some cake and an escape from Kathy. Not even a minute after I caught the bouquet, the superficial bitches started to whine about how it wasn’t fair that I caught the bouquet.
Yes, really. Something about how now that the bride is officially my step-monster, it wasn’t fair that I caught the flowers and I can’t even remember their lame argument over something so petty. Things like it’s not like she’s really throwing her bridal bouquet because it’s just going back home with her since I caught it.
I have no clue but they were a bunch of whiney bitches who made a HUGE fuss over this. So much so that it took away from the wedding and other guests were trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
These were supposed to be grown ass women. I just wanted to give the flowers to anyone who would take them and get myself out of that ridiculous mess. But an even bigger deal had to be made and so cunty Kathy took the flowers back from me and decided to throw them a second time so it would be “fair”.
I refused to go back in with that group of assholes but my step-mother insisted I once again join the group while she threw the bouquet… again.
Guess who caught it?
What the ever-loving fuck?
And can you guess what happened?
Yes, those bitches freaked out again and were royally pissed that I caught the bouquet for the second time.
I have to admit that I somewhat enjoyed catching it again and since I picked up such colorful language while staying with Kathy and Tom, it would have pleased me to yell out SUCK ON THAT, BITCHES!
But I didn’t and I offered to give away that damn bridal bouquet… again.
There was actually talk of Kathy throwing the flowers a third goddamn time but instead those bitches complained how a kid caught the flowers twice and WAAAAAA! It’s not fair. It made for an extra fun wedding reception.
After that came our family honeymoon type thing. They took me and my step-brothers to Disneyland and it wasn’t the happiest place on earth. Why? It’s because Tom and Kathy fought their way from the entrance to “the magical kingdom” all the way to the tea cups and space mountain and the water slide thing and you get my drift.
They were saying fuck this and fuck that and fuck you… ALL in front of families and Disneyland workers and even the mouse himself.
It’s safe to say that it will never be my dream to go to Disney world if I ever win the super bowl. I’m scarred for life from going there again.
As I got older, Kathy did super fun stuff like spend some money on clothes or gifts for me but when Tom would piss her off and they would be fighting back and forth, she would demand those things back. I had quickly learned not to accept anything from her “generosity” but just like when I was a flower girl, it wasn’t so easy to tell this woman no.
And this is the type of stuff my poor therapist has to listen to. No wonder she goes on vacation as often as she does.