And my mom is INSANE. Like insane. Even the way she talks to the dogs is insane. Every time I take a step in the house she asks where I’m going. I left a book on the kitchen table “honey, don’t forget you left your book here!” , “is that your pencil on the shelf over there?”

Meanwhile the house is a mess.

And don’t even get me started on my evil stepfather. That’s an ancient wound that I can, at best, ignore, because I live far away. But I’m visiting now and it’s luteal (bad planning) and I just fucking can’t. I’m a thirty year old woman - why is he going into my room? (I came home from groceries and heard him coming out of my room upstairs). Like what the fuck. And he doesn’t speak a word to me (never did even as kids unless it was to scream at us or chase us up the stairs or follow us around the kitchen making sure we’re doing everything properly).

I just needed to vent. I’m losing my mind. Usually I go on long runs to the beach up here, but because of my exhaustion it’s all I can do to just lie on the couch and read. But this house is so fucking small and cramped and claustrophobic that everyone’s up in each others business and I actually am just going to go fucking CRAZY!!!! Like actually fucking CRAZY!!!!!

And if I’m being totally honest I, a thirty-year old woman, set a booby trap for my stepfather in my room. Cardboard cup of coffee right in front of the door near a white shirt of mine (that I don’t care about). He opens that door, it’s time to confess to me.

I’m evil. I know. But it’s because I’ve gone fully insane, as it goes here. I am DEEPLY FAILING AT MY BOUNDARIES. Help. FUCK!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!