ever have that feeling...?

I hate it. Every time they look at me with those fake smiles and say "I love you, dear" I just want to slap them or kick them or scream "WHAT THE FREAKIN' HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" My family trys so hard to pass off as a "normal" "fine" family that has everything together. So loving. Everyone looks up to them. But in reality, we all hate each other. I tend to be at the bottom, though.
Lisa despises me unless I'm doing something for her (and even then, sometimes she vents her hatred towards me)
Mother sees me as a failure. Says so... frequently. "Why can't you just be smarter/prettier/more athletic/less athletic/more of an artist/less of an artist?!" I really am never good enough for her. Nothing I say/do/write/paint/play/watch/am is ever going to make her proud of me.
Dad. He's always telling me how much he loves me and how proud of me he is, etc etc, but as soon as something doesn't go his way, it's the screaming and swearing and telling of what a failure I am and how disapointed and embarased he is of me, how no one could ever love me, yadda yadda, so on and so forth.

So, yeah. Every time they smile at me and tell me how much they love me, thoughts of "you liars... i can see right through you. Don't you know that?" In church the parents will introduce me to their friends. "Yes, this is our LOVELY daughter, Farrah! She's a senior in highschool, is taking classes at AB Tech, is an artist and wants to go to Appalachian State to double major in photography and journalism! yes yes... we're so proud of her!" HA HA HA! Yeah right! Thats their little speech they've come up with so we look like a functional family. Puh-lease!

I really wish I could put into words how much it kills me to look at them and know exactly what they think of me... and to know that no matter how hard I try, I will simply never be good enough to be loved by them.

Christmas should be interesting. They think they can buy my affection with gifts. Who am I to tell them otherwise? **sigh** So we shall see. We shall do this song and dance until I am gone, and then casually at reunions and such, all the time knowing that behind the smile are curses and within the hugs are bitter hateful hearts.

Sorry to vent. You really aren't obligated to read my blog, you know.