My family has been in the process of moving for 2-4 months now (I can’t remember how long anymore) and I’ve been set as the therapist for everyone. Listening to my mom bitch about everyone else but do absolutely fucking nothing to help her situation. My dad get upset that my mom is upset but is putting herself through all the extra stress. My sibling upset that they have to pack and gasp help pack shit up.

By the way we have 8 dogs and a cat. 8 dogs that my mom refuses to let us keep in a room (with toys and potty breaks) or in crates with regularly being taken out, played with loved on etc etc. It wasn’t until we had a week til we had to move that I was able to start actually packing my room, then I was fussed at for not being able to finish my room by loading even though I repeatedly asked for help taking stuff off the walls.

Once we finally got into the house it’s basically been all about painting and painting only. I’m supposed to have my room painted by now too and my boxes into my room. But I’m again, watching and reports training all the dogs with my sibling.

My (abusive narcissistic) grandmother is living with us again and won’t leave us alone at all. My mother has been using me as a therapist again even tho she’s in the wrong here (I can’t point it out without her getting mad).

I’m actually wishing for my dad to be home for once. I normally don’t want to be around him but rn he’s the only other adult that will actually act like an adult and not a fucking teenager.

Our dogs have been fighting due to the stress and one of them not being fixed (we’re fixing it all don’t worry). But my dad had to schedule a vet appointment for my moms dog and one for the cat who he doesn’t even like (that’s how bad he needed it) and getting one of our other dogs groomed because my mom swore she could do it but wouldn’t. If my shoulder wasn’t fucked up and this dog wasn’t heavy I’d do it but I can’t.

I feel trapped and tired and in desperate need of a break or reassurance or something. I feel like I’m going crazy.