Vent- Ignore if you want, or give advice

I'm being ridiculous, right? Aren't I? I signed up for this, why am I complaining? I shouldn't have feelings, right? Right?

She picked me up half an hour late. She's ALWAYS late. On purpose too. Every time. No matter what it is. She's late.

I was out marching in the hot sun for band for an hour and 40 minutes. I am sunburned and dehydrated. My head is killing me. I feel like I'm going to puke. I told her to pick me up at 5.

Practice went 11 minutes over. She got there are 5:10. She couldn't wait an extra minute. She left. She went and got food at a drive through. She got me nothing, not even a drink. She comes back 20 minutes later. Not even an apology.

My head is killing me. I cried for half an hour because I'm a baby. I'm crying again. She expects me to make my own dinner. She had fast food, she doesn't want to cook for me and couldn't care less. I tell her my head hurts and I feel sick. She doesn't care. I make my own food. I just ask her to get it out of the oven. I tell her I don't feel like I can manage to make food for my two brothers. She gets mad at me.

"Next time you have an attitude, I'm making you quit guard." I'm sorry, but I didn't realise me feeling like crap qualified as an attitude.

"You should be used to this." So I should be used to you picking me up half an hour late and not caring about my well being? I should be used to taking care of my brothers because you can't be bothered to?

"Why didn't your friends wait with you? You have crappy friends." Friends? I only have one, and we're only friends because we're on the guard team together. I'm such a fucking mess I can't make real friends on my own. It's not my friend's fault that her parents were on time. It's not her fault you weren't on time. It's not my fault you ditched me to fuel your own selfish needs. Sorry I'm such a burden.

I'm crying again, and you don't care. Because I am nothing to you but a burden.

I didn't ask to be born, in fact, I'd rather you just let me die. Oh wait, that's what you're doing now.You're letting me die, 15 years later. You're killing me inside by making me feel worthless.

But I'm in the wrong here. I should stop complaining and get rid of my attitude. I almost forgot, your children aren't meant to be seen. They aren't meant to be heard. They're just worthless piles of trash to you. Oh wait, that's just me. You love my siblings. I'm the problem child. I always will be. A problem. To you.

 

She doesn't like when I have feelings. She's the only one allowed to feel apparently.
She's 37. I'm her second child.
She and my dad divorced. I have a step dad, but he's worse than she is.