Stephanie K Meyers.

I spend a lot of time now thinking about how my grandmother hates me. Truly, undoubtedly hates me. She writes to me now, telling me about things to do with my Mom. And instead of referring to her as mom, she's Pamela Meyers. And instead of being 'Grandma', she's Stephanie K. Meyers. I'm not Emmy, or Emy or anything of the like, I too am now addressed by my full name.

When she's accusing me of things- having secret money, or being somehow totally well off, or when she's accusing me of being a terrible person or being nasty when I'm really just trying to work with her... I feel so stripped down and bare, like someones peeled away layers of my skin and the soft pink meat is showing through. It's painful, but not in your standard pain way- more of a feeling of stretching, burning heat.

People just tell me to ignore her, ignore this hatred, but in reality it's eating away at me and making me feel small. It's consuming me so much, and I feel like I can't battle it well enough to even begin dealing with my Mom's passing.

I start to think of mom, and I push it away. "Now is not the time to think about that". I'm actively trying to avoid grieving right now. I recognize that I'm doing it, but why? the only reasoning I have is that it's because I've gotten subconsciously good at compartmentalizing, and thus I'm hiding this away for now....for jsut the right time to sneak out back and feel lousy... but who really wants to devote time to feeling like poop, even though eeryone and eery book tells them that they need to allow for the grieving... am I going to get scarred for life if I don't face my grief?

All I know is that I love my Mom, and my nasty grandma is hurting me so much that I don't care if I ever see her ever again.