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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

I want this house empty, but I'm worried it won't be until I'm leaving it for good.

I don't know how to feel about this. This is a house my mom remodeled to perfection in the 80s, and continued to work on until my dad f*cked it all up. The last time my mom cleaned the windows was the day after she got diagnosed with "terminal" breast cancer, twenty years ago. I washed them just to be more comfortable and we both stared at it, and it just felt..... odd. Like. Yeah, that's done. And then what happens?

That's the phrase I keep hearing and accidentally saying to myself. The other week, it seemed the world had secret messages for me that were hinting that it was okay if I needed to let go. If I started to die it would be alright, and peaceful (finally at peace), and meant to be, if not later than it would have been had I done it successfully before.

One of the "hints" was the decorative calendar I have of microscopic worlds. I got it for last year, but couldn't afford this year's calender. Despite having it the entire time I lived at bestie's house, I noticed that I never wrote on it. No dates saved. Nothing circled or marked. In fact, for some reason this calender had no holidays printed in. Just a bunch of blank days, all unmarked, all just... there. And I heard myself ask it, "And then what happened?"

I don't know. I've always been a self starter, work until I'm down, go-getter kind of person. I got myself out of being a child sex slave trafficked to neighbors. I got my dad out of MY house. My mom's house. My grandmother's house now.

It's strange that decades of work on this house could be undone by one man so completely that it's STILL impossible to keep clean. I'm doing my best and my mom... is not, all her stuff is overflowing and covering any "public" place I made for myself outside my rooms, and she's too disabled to clean it up.

It's strange that my grandmother died so suddenly. I was supposed to talk to her at the end of 2023 to review how I was progressing in moving out of this house. Now she's gone and my grandfather is too broken down from his own PTSD (Jewish with alcoholic father in a Bad Time For Jews; father had been through Shit™ for being Jewish) and grief to say a word. Our last text conversation was that I was sorry I'd been so quiet, because I'd just gotten out of the hospital, and she said she was in and out of the hospital but we'd meet up when she got better. Eight months ago.

Went unmarked on my calender. There's nothing to say when things like this happen.

The day my great aunt committed suicide, also unmarked.

What happens next? No idea. Do I inherit the house from my grandpa? Do I... keep it, if so?

Decades have gone into this house. My mom kept it perfect and modern until 2004. I have been trying to keep it clean despite my father existing ever since. I have worked on this house every day. There's access to the front door because when I was a child, 7 to 9 years old, I got angry that I wasn't allowed in the back yard of my own home, but had to use the back door to get outside.

Just to end up to where we are now. Where I am stuck with antique carpet, a near-antique dishwasher that's so hard to hook up at this point that the blue collar people of reddit can't seem to make heads or tails of it, endless damage to its floors and... whatever, lots of stuff GOING for it now, too.

Like, it's not just a house anymore. It holds generations of trauma and happy things and STILL isn't worth much. Yet this area has exploded in price as it becomes more and more gentrified, to such a point that boomer neighbors who have lived here since the houses were built are being evicted into homelessness for unjust reasons.

It makes me feel more strangely about this house than before, because I feel grateful that it's been here every time I failed, and grateful that events occured in such an odd way that my mom hasn't been evicted for the property tax issues.

I hate that Nashville has become popular and has done this to our community, which now is more of a Nashville suburb than the small town, practically village, I knew. This city sucks. It's got the American stroads, the endless capitalism, the rampant deforestation, and all these wealth white het straight weirdos who don't care about the environment here at all. Why would you move to a deciduous rainforest if you don't like trees, anyway?

Maybe this is the definition of derealization? That things happen and I'm not the one living with it?

My grandparents came to Nashville after their home was burned down during my father's childhood, anti-Semitism stuff. They chose here to continue to record music for people. Some of them died millionaires and a few are billionaires. Does that matter for my grandfather's heart, or...? Who cares about money anymore?

I want out of this house, but not this yard, or even neighborhood, and yet, it's like the place I knew growing up got wiped off the map. You know, there's traffic on the road that meets my neighborhood street now. It never used to be that way. Now you have to be rich to live in the woods around here. And the gentrified folk will go and cut those trees down, because they didn't want a treed lot. Why are they even here?

And what am *I* going to do? What DOES happen? Do I have a say anymore?

I hated being a child every day of my childhood. People didn't take me seriously, adults could abuse me and make me be quiet on it, and make me be silent on my genuine concerns. I wanted nothing but to try to survive, but assumed I'd never make it to adulthood.

Now I'm an adult, and the rules I play by don't make sense in this world, and I feel like I have less power in my life than ever. What does being powerful by age 10 get me now? How do people hold jobs and keep in touch with friends they love, and not worry that their boss is going to corner them and rape them at three in the morning after a showing? How do people have children? Have a family?

Why did I start this diary by saying that I used to be able to do so much, and I'm WORSE at it now?

Why have I had to downgrade every goal I've ever made until I'm practically clueless on what my next step even is anymore? Why am I even here?

I can't even get help on the house anymore. I think it's back to being all up to me. My best friend hasn't been okay enough to help in over a year. But has anyone? Do any of you know anyone who's okay right now?

....


Anyway. I'm holding on to hope, still. Not because I want to, but because my brain makes me. There HAS to be something next, and I can't just wait for it. I have to find it and just feel okay enough to go on. Just like how I managed to survive my childhood.

The goal has been, for years and years and years now, to get out of here. And to get rid of all this shit. All this trash and clutter. I've always wanted a house I could decorate and call my own. Since I was 5, probably earlier.

I have had to downgrade how I feel even a single milestone in this goal over and over and over and over and over, sometimes after more trauma. The 2020s are full of trauma for me. I'm sick of that and wish I'd stop being so naive, but, whatever.

I'm no longer trying to get a job to pay for a house. I'm no longer looking for a significant other. I'm no longer trying to find work. I'm no longer excited to be a scientist, as now I'm not sure if I can even do basic math or experimentation. My plans have become more and more simple with only negatives and stressors and constant worry to show for it.

When I say my spirit has been broken, I don't mean just by circumstances. I mean by people breaking me down, by me trying to listen to other people instead of myself, and worse. In my last job, I was made to feel like such a failure that I barely cared when my boss started to yell at a client and blame it on me right in front of said client. I just believed her. It didn't matter anyway, did it?

Now can't even hold a job. Not sure why I bothered, sometimes. It's not like I was doing well before then. Was even terrified to quit IN the hospital, because I was afraid of what harm I was causing.

It's just old. And now I'm going to be settling for such poverty like no one on this earth deserves, and understandably I'm both scared of how I'm going to live like this forever, if I will have to live like this forever, and worried this, too, will go wrong. I would not be surprised. It'd just be another hiccup, like always.

And then what happens? I don't know. I don't know. Does it matter?

I always thought if I survived childhood I'd get a nice house, have a family, be safe enough to get better and stay better forever. Yet I have been marked as less than worthless by the state, especially with the richer people moving in, and... I'm at a stupid point where if I ended up just inheriting this house, I wouldn't even be that broken up about it anymore.

Boomers nor millennials can afford to live anymore around here and I'm sitting here worse off because I practically raised myself as if I were an orphan, and my family is forever torn apart by death and my twin brother's religious Christian delusions, and G-d damn it all, I hope I enjoy my vacation tomorrow, because I don't know whats happening after tomorrow, and neither does anyone else.

Anti-American oligarchs have ruined this country down to the local level, and the rest of the United States will feel it soon after we canaries die. What a beautiful world and how lucky I am to be alive, and how difficult it is to stay alive in a time like this.

I hope what happens next is I bend the rules one more time and something goes right. Nothing threatens my life besides my own unwell brain anymore, and I don't know how to live like this.

Rest in peace those who died and committed suicide since 2020, both in and out of my family and friends, and I will take my time before I see you all again. But G-d bless me and PLEASE grant me SOMETHING. I want to stop having to ask for what others seem to just GET automatically.

Have I been happy since I moved from my university's town? Is this diary doomed to just be, "I used to be able to do so much, and now I can do nothing," and, "then what happens?"
 
Sorry for the rant. I'm back on all my regular meds and need to get that out so I can use up more energy on the rest.

Do you know anyone who's doing well this decade? Anyone at all? If you could tell me about them like a little rumor that would be great. Anyone been able to afford a house lately? Get help successfully from someone who's doing well?

Edit to add: Don't tell me you're doing well and I'm not getting better. But do tell me you're getting better and have gotten better.
 
Goal for today: have so much fun on my one-day vacation I forgot to ask what's next, lol. Just schedule something to look forward to, maybe. Maybe I'll make a detailed mega-data-sheet in Microsoft excel/Google sheets/open office Calc of what things I want in a house. Maybe I'll make blueprints and build models to play with

What do other semi-feral children do when they start to be expected to act like humans all of a sudden?

Edit to add: I have group therapy tomorrow, just before I go out of town for that day trip vacation. Wish me luck 🥰 🍀 ❤️ I am going to tell them that I think I am genuinely losing my sanity. I mean, I HAVE, but I mean even more. Somehow this feels worse than when I was kepted in a dark room for three days in total isolation ✨ my brain never recovered from that.
 
At least we can all guarantee I'll never have to be a child again (in this lifetime or whatever you believe) :) that sucked ✨
 
Three positives:
  1. Taz, Kiki, Slinky, Xavie, Beanbag, Señor Nacho (él solo habla español, pero un poco ingles ahora), Nestle, Dove, Nudge, Cleo, and every pet ive ever had who is not with us now
  2. I'm not hungry
  3. Am caught up and staying caught up on all chores and animal care this month

Three times I felt safe today:
  1. Walk with dog, enjoyed how bright the moon was
  2. Felt like I've been unusually clear and sane today thanks to a week-lonv migraine starting to lift finally
  3. Sitting in the kitchen all alone this afternoon felt like a big deal

One to three things I'm looking forward to:
  1. Day trip later today/after the sun goes up
  2. First group therapy meeting (if all goes well) (if I can't get partial hospitalization three years after I was prescribed it, at least I've got this for now and it hopefully won't be randomly banning me for ablist reasons this time ✨)
  3. Make a data sheet for preparation reasons ig
 
I'm not in a place to say all is well and good, but I can say that I can recognize that I am far,far better than I was 5 years ago. Which means that it can happen, people can get better, and that includes you!

I know you hate living there, and I can't blame you because it sounds like a horrible situation. I can't remember, but is there a chance for you to find disability housing? And if not, what about putting a small camper or trailer on your moms property? Somewhere that can be all yours without her chaos?


Three positives:
  1. Taz, Kiki, Slinky, Xavie, Beanbag, Señor Nacho (él solo habla español, pero un poco ingles ahora), Nestle, Dove, Nudge, Cleo, and every pet ive ever had who is not with us now
  2. I'm not hungry
  3. Am caught up and staying caught up on all chores and animal care this month

Three times I felt safe today:
  1. Walk with dog, enjoyed how bright the moon was
  2. Felt like I've been unusually clear and sane today thanks to a week-lonv migraine starting to lift finally
  3. Sitting in the kitchen all alone this afternoon felt like a big deal

One to three things I'm looking forward to:
  1. Day trip later today/after the sun goes up
  2. First group therapy meeting (if all goes well) (if I can't get partial hospitalization three years after I was prescribed it, at least I've got this for now and it hopefully won't be randomly banning me for ablist reasons this time ✨)
  3. Make a data sheet for preparation reasons ig
I love, love, love this. Because it shows you still have light in your life, even when it sometimes seems that all is dark. 🤗
 
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