As I try to release the ropes my mental illness has against me I’m opening up my mind that my way of living is a root cause of my symptoms. It’s like I’m playing a game of how disgusting can I live, what are the perimeters of how much gross I’m willing to accept. Currently I’m sleeping on a bare mattress, on the floor because of a broken bed frame, that everything I have smells like piss because I have this new thing of wetting My bed. I also think I have fleas. And yet there I lay feeling my self worth plummet with every breath. I look at things and be like “normal people have nice beds” normal people aren’t swarmed with flies or have to step over animal feces to get to the bathroom. I guess recognizing that these conditions aren’t normal and aren’t okay is a huge step. Now getting over the mental block of implementing change that’s a whole other ordeal. It’s like I’m stagnant when it comes to fixing things. Like maybe it’s a deserve ploy in my head. If I fix it do I deserve it? If I ...
Oh how quickly perspectives shift when someone is honest about what's truly going on. I actually feel like the fog I have been living in for the past 4 years may have some blue sky. We failed our most recent inspection. I'm not surprised really. I did the best I could with the circumstances I had. My mother was back for an extended stay in the hospital after her blood pressure reached stroke level. The same week that I added 3 more classes to my load as my semester had a staggered start. Adding to the chaos was just my typical work week. I panicked a couple times, cried a lot and did what I could to try and veil the huge secret we have harbored. It didn't work. About half a week later I got a warning email from the property manager complete with pictures and instructions on what their expectations are and what we have to do. I basically lost my shit. When super stressful things happen, I get really still and quiet. It's basically me trying to control my urge to rage l...
My relationship with my mother is reaching new uncharted territory and I'm not even sure how to handle it. For years all we did was fight, fight bitterly and badly. It's all we knew. It was our definition and anyone and everyone had their own opinion on our relationship. I let too many voices in. At the end of the day, I wanted to love my mother without the fighting. I wanted to be there for her and laugh and enjoy our life together. Covid and DPT therapy brought that forth to me. We stopped fighting and became each other's safe space. We no longer let outside voices infiltrate us or interfere with how we are. They're irrelevant. I've lived with my mother for 4 years now. The longest stretch of time we've lived together since I was 18. To be honest most of the time it's been great. We laugh we smoke we have fun. Here lately though it's been weighing on me. And things I'm starting to creep up. The biggest thing has been the lack of help around the h...
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