You are the bane of my existence. Every corner of my life seems shadowed by you—by your words, your judgments, your endless meddling. You don’t see it, do you? The way your presence seeps into everything, how your opinions feel like chains around my shoulders.

I’ve tried to shrug you off, to convince myself that you don’t matter, that your influence is nothing. But you are everywhere. In my thoughts, in my doubts, in the quiet panic that rises when I hear your voice. You’ve made it impossible to breathe, impossible to think without feeling your eyes on me, your criticisms lurking behind every word.

Do you even realize the weight you carry in my life? The way your approval—or your disapproval—can twist my entire day, my sense of self, my confidence? I hate it. I hate you. I hate that you have this power, and I hate that I let you have it.

And yet… even as I try to push you away, even as I scream at myself to be free, you linger. Like a shadow, like a storm that refuses to pass. You are relentless. You thrive in control, in the knowledge that your words can hurt, that your presence can suffocate. You are my tormentor, my obstacle, the constant reminder that family can wound deeper than anyone else.

I despise what you’ve done to me—not because I am weak, but because you made me question myself in ways no one else ever could. Every snide remark, every manipulative smile, every insinuation—it has left scars I will carry long after you are gone.

And still, in the quiet of the night, I feel your weight. I feel the echo of your judgment pressing down on my chest. You are my shadow, my curse, the bane of my existence.

And one day… one day, perhaps, I will rise beyond the chains you’ve placed around me. But until then, you remain. And I… I am trapped in the orbit of your influence, hating every moment you exist in my life.