Ugh. I tried to do some basic chores and I got upset. This stupid house. Why would anyone let it get this bad? I wish I could go back in time and fix it. It’s so overwhelming, and when I move out, my mom is going to assume that nothing can/has to be done about the house despite calling the house “condenable” (which it is, it smells like shit and urine in the main house) and saying she was jealous of me having more room than her.
She put a f*cking black cloth bag in the pathway between the kitchen and the dining room, so I tripped on it. House shoe slipped off a little and I touched the floor. Disturbing, disgusting.
Fed my snake. Got a flashback. Two of them, but one of them wasn’t exactly criteria A.
Mom came down to use the restroom so I waited a moment to shower. She peed for two minutes. Stopped. Went again for another minute. Pause. Another minute. Aka, her blood sugar is high as f*ck. And there is no point talking to her about going to the ER like the nurse said because now she doesn’t have insurance. Which means she’ll probably end up with a f*cking diabetic-related stroke or heart attack before she can get health insurance again, because the last ten years she had insurance she didn’t f*cking use it for diabetes. She doesn’t even use insulin. She’s probably got a shitload of damage. And she never changed primary doctors nor reported her current one so that’s just over I guess.
By the time I had access to the shower I was shaking and felt disgusting. And uncomfortable because my mom had peed with the door open so I felt uncomfortable, I don’t know what triggered that, and it doesn’t matter. In the shower, washed my entire body.
Several times. Because I kept accidentally touching the walls or the shower curtain. I haven’t had that problem in YEARS. My mom is upset that I can’t get the mold stains completely out. I did my f*cking best.
I feel like I’m losing my mind. I legitimately think my therapist was wrong, that I actually should be trying to dissociate more because I really can’t deal with this. I have no idea why she’s so okay with it. All of her kids have said that living in junk sucks. But she told us “then fix it.” And when we were at my sister’s House, she’d gesture around the room and go, “Isnt this nice? Don’t y’all want this?”
Now that I’m an adult, I’m appalled that she said that to us.
It’s three am and I don’t know if I can sleep. I might end up taking another shower. I’ll try not to.
My skin is doing that thing where it gets mysteriously covered in bruises again. I used to have to go to the hospital often for that. They wrote in my record that I might be showing more signs of abuse from my father who was suspected in several cases but not convicted. After he was legally kicked out the bruises stopped. My mom said that it’s a real thing for a patient with severe depression to show odd signs. Like mysterious bruises showing up all over the body. So I guess that’s it.
My mom was really angry that they were accusing my dad of abuse, and started researching on the Internet what it could really be. I don’t know what’s in my medical record. I guess I could ask.