I think I am overwhelmed. I wish I could force my mom to get therapy. I am very worried.
I wish she would have cared to give my brothers therapy. Both of them really, really needed it.
I am going between moments of happily dissociating from my environment and then suddenly coming to in really painful ways. I feel suddenly human and I am hating it because it means I am vulnerable and able to die? That’s sounds kinda funny though. Haha.
I saw a house for sale and I want it. Obviously can’t afford it. It’s neigbboring my sister’s house.
My dad asked his parents to buy him a house. He is a hoarder. He ruins houses. He was in an apartment though. He was lying to my grandmother about having a job. But she and my grandfather bought him a house afterward.
My grandparents bought my mom a house.
Would they buy me a house? I’m tired of being poor. I never want to ask for expensive things. But I am going a little crazy here. I keep getting massively triggered and I can’t talk about it. I hate that it’s so triggering. I hate it.
And no, I’m not worried about being removed from their will. I am hoping they live for another thirty years all happy and healthy. (Is that an unrealistic goal for people in their 80s-ish?) ? I have a hard time having conversations with them and they need to hang out with me long enough that I stop losing my voice. I want to ask more questions about Russia. Well, modern Ukraine. I hope that’s not too personal for you. Fun fact, if you know Russian really well you could actually figure out my last name from the info I’ve given in this diary! Hahaha. Don’t though!
Anyway, I’m tempted to ask for a house. I feel very spoiled. But I think I deserve it more than my dad. I want to tell my grandma how awful it is here. My mom doesn’t seem to know it is anymore. She won’t even go to the ER when she has been told my trained nurses to consider it.
At least she’s not in a coma this time. That’s happened twice. One of them was low blood sugar though. Brandi told me to give her pizza. It worked.