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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

I have been trying to get homework done all week. I’m being hard on myself because I’m having a very easy time playing video games and reading books, but I can’t seem to concentrate on my homework. I think what’s going on is I get to be present in other worlds and get out of this one in one, and on the other I have to concentrate while piles of garbage fill up my peripheral vision.
 
Same video game I played while my mom was dying and the pedophile was in my life.

Jeez, y’all won’t guess why I was afraid to say “pedophile” this time. Not for any normal reason, like he offered me a childhood of terror or anything. That’s pretty acceptable to me at this point. No, I’ve been carefully watching all my words because my mom keeps bringing up my trauma all the f*cking time.

I finally got fed up this week and when she started bringing it up I just blurted out, “No. I can’t talk about that right now. I’m not well today.” To which she just finished the statement I interrupted and acted like it was fine. Very done, I am. Very done.

Anyway, if I accidentally bring up any part of my childhood she’ll go on about it for a long time and I’m not allowed to leave or cut her off or I’m “censoring” her, but I sort of lost all the f*cks I had about her “boundaries” because I realized they weren’t things I’d put up with with Brandi and my mom is just a housemate. I was raised by animals, it’s whatever at this point. Offending her doesn’t seem to affect my future in any way.
 
I swear I’m a nice person. This has been trying my patience for years. I’m amazed I’m being considerate about it by minding my own f*cking business. But her mental shit is ruining my life right now and it makes me furious. My kids will NEVER have to put up with this. I feel like I’m an adult living with a rich teenager, only it’s an adult woman who spent all her money on books and probably slushies.
 
@joeylittle I’m so sorry, I’m dysregulated again, so I waited a while to come back.

There’s a few reasons I haven’t gone to Scottie’s. I would need to bring my service dog or else she might get horribly neglected like last time I left her here. (When I was hospitalized last time, I didn’t bring her, and when she was invited in for visitation, she was clearly miserable, Not brushed, not bathed, and somehow covered in fleas and ticks. I didn’t bother to take care of myself much for the rest of my hospital stay. No point. I was too worried about my dog.) My other animals could die. My bird has come close several times since I “trusted” my mom with her care. All completely on accident, mind you. My mom’s not even malicious, just really thick. The cat would be fed since I’m buying her food but otherwise, nothing. No litter, forced to stay indoors — etc you get the point.

Although I guess I’m about to have no internet because my mom is being hella stupid, currently I have it and need it for my online classes. I can’t actially afford to medically withdrawal this time. I checked a few ways to do this. At least I wouldn’t owe the United States $7,000 this time as my “refund” if I did, nor would I be mocked by that god damn doctor who told the insurance that TBIs don’t exist, but I WOULD have to immediately start paying student loans within two weeks.

So I need to at least wait until between-terms to stay at Scottie’s, and continue to be scared that his cute dogs will get in the house and attack my dog.

About the junk removal — I considered that. I’m still going to use them to clean out the yard some day, at least. But currently I’m too angry. I’m sick and tired of being the one who’s supposed to fix everything all the time. And not allowed to have a of his or her own. I’m going to have to use my emergency funds that I spent the last six years amassing and not touching on just staying afloat, and I couldn’t be angrier. My little brother has been diagnosed with PTSD, my twin brother has been told he’s not welcome because he’s with a questionable wife but HE’S being blamed for everything, his children are all going to die, my sister’s husband was raped, and I almost died yesterday and barely even noticed. The guy was joking that he was afraid of me because the look in my eyes was just tired.

I can’t take any more of this and I’ve barely got any sanity. That little girl died in that hospital. I’m just a Fungus and I can’t deal with any more of anything, least of all helping my “mom” get this house cleaned. It’s her problem and I’m not dealing with it. I’ve done more than enough. She’s ruined me. She’s ruined my dog who doesn’t even want to do anything when she’s here. Straight up depressed. Not able to help me at all. I’d be fine if I hadn’t moved back here. Can’t take one more “revelation” from these people.
 
Sorry @joeylittle, I’m venting. I’ll be fine in a few days.

I’m going to apply to volunteer somewhere. Not sure it will go through because I couldn’t get the permit without the government wanting to check and see where I live (very long story) but it’s something grounded to Earth that might help so whatever.
 
I have an appointment with a psychiatrist and a psychologist tomorrow. I can’t tell them anything of what’s really going on or something will probably die. Maybe I’m triggered. Keep thinking of that time I had to speak up against my dad In a hospital setting knowing I was putting my brothers to risk. Not even thanked. I wasn’t even thanked.

I was very triggered last night. Some conversation. At the same time I tried to mention that someone almost killed me earlier. I still don’t care about that, honestly I’m more interested in the fact that I don’t care. But they didn’t even hear me, talked over me even. Reminded me of that hospital. Being on the floor in the dust in the darkness unable to talk or get up.

Y’all know I have to walk through a living room every day that used to contain my cage? It’s harder to get water here because of all the stuff. Dehydration might be a trigger. Bowls are starting to trigger me now. Bowls. I just think of food bowls in a cage and how I very much preferred that over the dark room I was in for a day or however long that was. Maybe two. My mind’s not focusing right now.
 
I’m going to try to take my dog oiytslde. Mind you she hasn’t asked. She’s just sitting there in the only spot there’s room for her staring at me. I wonder what she thinks about all day.
 
I can’t tell them anything of what’s really going on or something will probably die.
No, that's totally untrue. You HAVE to tell them what's going on, @littleoc. You need help. Your mom needs help. Your animals need help. The only way for ANY of you to get help is to tell them.

I promise nothing's going to die. That's your dysregulation talking. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.
 

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