Glad I could be of service.

I’m so glad that my woes and follies brought you all so much joy today.

 It’s a funny thing. Knowing that a group of people are whispering about you.

They once included me in those whisper sessions. I never did quite understand why the whispering happened, or why I was included. I never did resonate with any of it, usually trying to figure out the who of which they were talking about. On the rare occasion I knew the who, I rarely could figure out why the topic was such a big deal.

Once, only once, I knew both. I knew the who, and the why. I didn’t really agree with the why though. It was essentially a stereotypical societal response to a teen’s actions. I knew that teen and knew she liked pushing parental buttons and the whole group fell for it, to her delight. I could see if they’d just ignored her it would have gone away. The teen’s mom was more effected, and when she quit coming to events, I sort of understood. Knowing how it felt to be talked about. Yet knowing she’d let her daughter do the button pushing, I did wonder why she felt quite so embarrassed.

Now I’m the subject of those conversations. Poor, daughter is a hot mess (trouble someone called her), toddler that’s a huge handful, and oh wait- she’s pregnant again- heavens didn’t she know that was a bad idea! 

Yes, you F-ing idiots. I did know it was a bad idea, but sometimes God has different plans. It’s not like I’m one of those families with 6 kids by 5 baby daddies.

Also, you missed my husband’s health declined again, and I pushed to get him taken care of, we still don’t have a full understanding of the severity. You missed that I’m giving up building a home because I’m responsible enough to work 10 hour days all week long to make sure ends meet. And yes, that means we’ll probably have to move again, back to renting in the city. I’ll take responsibility for that too.

 You especially missed that I’m taking control of actually getting my hot mess of a (step) daughter into a professional despite being dirt poor, a huge pain in the ass, time consuming, hurdle most of you would have given up on, but one I know is important to secure her mental health. Especially since losing her mom became a joke to everyone else’s kids and she fell hook, line, and sinker for their fucked up disturbing humor. Who’s laughing now. Who thinks that shit is funny, I’ll punch them straight in the face, and you better know my serious-responsible-ass means that.

Additionally, you missed that I’ve been with my husband 14 years, married for 8, and out of that time I have taken care of his daughter for 12, him for 7, and 11 of the 14  we managed to not produce a single child of our own. I’m far from an irresponsible pregnant teen.
So go ahead and yuk it up. Enjoy your whispers while they last, because one day you’ll be on the other side. That’s how that shit works. One day you belong, then you fart/sneeze/cough and you’re suddenly the outcast. You suddenly become the one everyone talks about. Just wait, and then you’ll know how everyone else felt.

For now, I’m done. Between my new schedule and a surprisingly low desire to be everyone’s fool, I’m removing myself. I’ll work, I’ll tend to my family, and you all won’t need to whisper because I simply won’t be there. I hope you’re all proud of yourselves. Mock instead of help. That’s always a great way to live your lives.

On top of it all I still carry out my service to society. I still give to those even worse off than me. I still donate time and money. And this week one of my many errands will be to mail all our summer clothes to Florida for what little relief it will provide someone needing clothes. You all can kiss my ass while you continue to stand idly by whispering about me and my daughter.

About Treasa Cailleach

I'm a massage therapist working with chiropractic and the elderly; musician, artist, pagan, mom, B of LGBTQ, & polyamorous professional.

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