I look around my own fucking house and I think “I wouldn’t tolerate that if this were my house”.
I’m so over this shit, I just can’t stand sharing my space with others.
I’ve got mum and the baby staying over 2 nights in a row, and here I was complaining there’s no room for dad and I to stand up at the same time.
When Em was here, and dad and I were bringing plates and glasses to the living room to eat, SHE SITS RIGHT IN THE ONLY FUCKING WALKWAY.
And eats there.
I can barely get past dad when he’s using his computer, and she pulls the chair all the way out, spins it around and puts her legs up!
The other narrow, distant path is clogged with HER BABYS STUFF.
I even fucking said to her earlier “don’t sit there.” and she ignored me.
MY house, betch.
Why is the fucking coffee table always pushed up against one side of the lounge so no one can sit down!?
WHY DOES THE BATHROOM COUNTER NEED AN ARK!?!? Who the fuck can possibly drip that much water and not notice?
Why do people think it’s okay to leave the toilet lid up when it’s always down because that’s how I like it (I don’t need your fucking ecoli on my toothbrush, do I?) but won’t get towels out of the linen press to mop up spills or use the body spray that would obviously be in the bathroom cupboard to conceal their shit stink.
And none of this is productive or benefitting me, I can’t even have a whole conversation with someone, and my house just gets messier and messier.
I’m apparently the only one that thinks to clear tables properly before we use them, but all I do is throw that shit under the table, anyone could do that! So my pile of shit under the table just gets bigger and bigger and no one will help me.
No one will take my fucking painting off my hands when I’ve been asking for at least 6 months.
It takes up and obscures a large corner of my room and I was living in fear of accidentally wrecking it for so long, now I just want to fucking kick it to get it out of my way!
And I swear I fucking tidied my desk, albeit by throwing all the crap I didn’t want on the floor (because I didn’t know if I should throw my TAFE shirt in the bin), I turn around a few days later and dad’s obviously at some point put the shit back on my desk and is telling me to clean it off!!
There was a big plastic rubbish bag, I said please for the love of god put that stuff in the rubbish I don’t want it – it’s still fucking here!
Yeah, obviously I should keep it clean myself in the first place, but there has never ever been a ‘clean’. Ever. For there to be a clean living room, there would have to be a clean bedroom to put away the things from the living room in!
And dad clearly leaves his own mess behind or makes mine for me sometimes. Heck em manages to do that in the 5 minutes she’s here, not putting my things back how they were or even putting some things back at all.
You clearly took those fucking bobby pins out of the cupboard, why wouldn ‘t you put them back YOU DON’T LIVE HERE YOU CAN’T USE THEM AGAIN. However the ones I left loose on the counter I reckon you pinched, those were for me to use again. Because I live here. I really wish I didn’t. And I’m fucking devastated because I’m basically povo with no one to fall back on because every single one of us is unemployed so I can’t afford to move out alone or with anyone else!
No one even listens to me.
Today I said “my legs hurt” and even at some point was just saying “ow” over and over again and no one fucking noticed, or cared.
I said for weeks that I didn’t know what to do about my centrelink reporting, etc, incredibly anxious, etc, not only did I get the same bullshit advice everytime, explained why it was bullshit everytime, then everyone acts surprised when my centrelinks been cancelled…
No one fucking knew that I had a plan for my education when I was 16 that I know I talked about…
I remember mums shopping lists.
I haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now, I’m sick of it, I feel like shit.
I’m fucking sneezing all the time, I can ‘t stand being near people and I don’t want to hold my niece in case I sneeze on her and like I’ll get frantic and just throw her off of me because the need to blow my nose is so frustrating.
And ya know that typical reaction you expect when you tell someone how bad your life is, your problems…
Oh you’re just lazy, you just need to be positive, you need to be more like this, be a better person…
Right well, this is just like who I am. I don’t think I can be any better, it’s too hard, it’s not me. But so clearly I’m a useless person, and I’ll never do anything about anything, and I should just kill myself.


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