Requisites

I have little to no patience. In anything. Particularly the failings of others. Idiocy I don't take lightly, and I still have troule imagining how others can so easily forgive it.

Some people grow up with idols, people they feel themselves lucky to emulate. Some model with which to form themselves. I had the complete opposite:

My mother.

I looked at her and thought, with certainty, that is what I never want to be. Never want to come close to being. Even today, I'm stunned with how great an anti-idol she is to me. To not be like my mother are the strict code of behavior I follow. To better myself, all I must imagine is that I'm becoming her and I feel a surge of self-betterment rush through me.

I think my mother is not sane.

Thats the only way I can make sense out of her sometimes. Bipolar disorder. Obsessive compulsive. Abject hysteria. Any psychological illness that seems to sum it up is much easier for me to accept, to swallow, than to think that this is merely how my mother has always been. She was diagnosed with the former when I was in high school, but it didn't make things any easier. I felt little more than self-pity then, although it did allow for me to find some sort of solace that others may have experienced what I had to on a daily basis.

I don't want this to be my fate. God help me if it ever is.