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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

Figured out why my lungs hurt. Forgot to drink any water since I got triggered yesterday. Filled a bottle and drank 20 ounces in less than a minute. Needed that after all that crying. Maybe that's also why my head hurts.

I feel miserable. I hope going to see my twin brother tonight helps. I feel like the nightmare of living with my dad isn't over. It feels like he could show up at any time. He has before. To try to break in. Did he really do that, though? Or was I just afraid he would? Doesn't matter. I went straight from living nightmares with him to living nightmares with hospitals, Brandi, this stupid f*cking house that keeps getting cleaned over and over and over and over, and a bunch of disturbing deaths I was asked to witness politely. And now my twin is living a nightmare waiting to happen. Any minute now.

How is anyone supposed to live a normal life in this world? Does it stop?

I had a good time the other day though.

Also I guess my sister's husband feels bad enough. He picked up my medication for me today. I'm not sure when I'm seeing him but maybe someone can bring it to me from him.

He has helped me in a couple of other ways in the past. When I wanted to get my bird from my dad, he came to help me take the cage apart and he brought his gun so he could protect me from my dad if needed. When Brandi tried to keep my air conditioner after we broke up, he and my sister both agreed to meet Brandi's girlfriend Jamie to get it since they wouldn't agree to give it to me directly.
 
I was just looking up my dad's name on Google. Found out he's been reviewing himself and posting on multiple websites that he's still married to my mother.

Found his brother's obituary. I wasn't allowed to read it as a kid, despite watching him die. There's something strange in there. It says that my uncle Eric went to the same high school as my mother before they moved to this state after my mom moved down here.

That's strange because (1) they should have been in Philadelphia and (2) my mom moved down here to marry a kitten-killing psychopath. Something is weird about that.

Come to think of it, a lot of my mom's stories about my dad are surprisingly odd. As in, missing huge pieces of information.

This reminds me of when I found out my dad was the one who got me kidnapped because he wanted attention -- I basically learned from the media and some loose facts my mom threw out.
 
Looked up the census. Grandfather Aaron was livng with his American(?) Jewish(?) wife Freda in 1940 with his two sons in Philadelphia. He was going to get drafted to World War II but I don't know if it'd go through? Do Jewish refugees get drafted into a war like that? I've heard of some nasty stories but I don't think they were WWII stories on dad's side? I'm confused at this point, but it's possible his son C moved north before having my father.
 
I miss Freda. I think she was also a refugee. She was very quiet about her past.

She gifted a lot of things to us in her will. Including the Kitchenaid that Aaron saved up to buy her. It was half the price of their house back then. It must have been so hard to be a refugee when everyone hated Jews. He didn't want to teach Russian to his kids. He's was lucky, though. Despite the shit he and his brother had to see and live through.
 
Thank you :hug: I am here and it was very tasty :)

I did have some kind of bronchitis thing. There was a bunch of mold. I know @Freida had mentioned it as a worry — that this house probably has especially bad air. It smells pretty weird usually.

Thank you again :hug:
 

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