..I can change I promise.

What I didn't realize then, and my authority figures have never realized, is it hurts to change who you are, and it can have permanent effects on you later in life.
I was forced to become the person that my family wanted, so I would get the attention I craved. That involved lots of self-mutilation, to both my mind and my personality.
I know it seems i'm whining a lot, I apologize, I'm not angry at my parents, or anything like that, I'm not thinking about suicide, I'm just a bit marred on the inside and chronically depressed. I have to uncover all those wounds and pick them apart to show myself that there was nothing I could do about it and it wasn't anyone's fault.
Being around my Aunt Nee, Uncle Karl, and people who end up saying that my mom is a bad person, fuels my fire, and just adds more scars. It keeps me from growing, dredging up the past, though it has to come out someway.
So pictures like these are born.
I did try, horribly to live up to everything my mom wanted, and boy did she take advantage of that, but that's just her nature, she can't be blamed.

I guess it's that old rule, "I can say bad things about my parent/child/relative/pet, but no one else'd better."

Yes, I am pulling out my sharp baby teeth, even though it hurts so bad, My mom wanted me to be calm, sweet and kind, not a carnivorous, excitable puppy. So I do what I have too.