I think Nestle woke me up from a nightmare of my dad. I’m not really sure, I’m having a hard time sleeping today. I’ve been staring at memes because I don’t feel satisfied enough before sleeping. I might get back into exercise but secretly I’m terrified of the possibility of using it to cope. In high school after Shay died I overexercised until the skin on my hands cracked into spider webs and my knees got permanently damaged. I’m still in physical therapy and they’ll never get any better. Literally spent too much time running away. I can’t get comfortable when I sleep because if I try to curl up I just get reminded of everything. Knees lock. Nestle has to move because otherwise I’m in pain. The bed is too small. I can’t even just buy a new mattress because even after emptying my room of more than 60 trash bags of who even knows, I still can’t bring new things in here. This room was filled to the ceiling with stuff and it’s a lot better but it’s not good enough. I justkeep remembering Aunt Michelle and my dad arguing over what I’m allowed to own while my mom was literally dying her husband was having sex with his daughters while she was staying with us. The house was almost completely clean and it was the only time I had a bedroom. I even kept it clean from my dad. Then it got used as storage.
You guys are too nice. I don’t know what I need. I guess just a clean house so I can do what I’m supposed to do when I have a nightmare, or can’t sleep, or both, which is to get out of bed and change activities.
I can’t even walk to the bathroom without tripping. And I’m in the master bedroom. And I keep smelling dead fish and poop. It’s the one really bad trigger I have and can’t talk about, which is slightly funny because it’s the one that one therapist said I’d never have to worry about but now I’m always with people who shit themselves on a regular f*cking basis and I can’t bring myself to talk about it. Can’t get away from the smell. Every room in this house also smells like shit. Mostly cat shit. Biohazard.
