For a long time I have had to put on a front in order to get by. You cannot exactly trade your family for someone better, and without the proper resources, you cannot make it on your own. I tried. (I guess I could try again...)

When I try to talk to friend about how I do not get along with my parents, I hear advice like: "Well, they are your parents, you have to do what they say for now & then you can do your own thing."

Sounds about right, right?

She tortured me. For years. Tortured.








But now I am supposed to act like nothing happened, so that what, I have a place to live?

That doesn't seem fair.

Surely there is another option, right?


I am not in this world to live and to die in the arms that bore me and the arms that destroyed me, am I?

if I told you how you hurt me
would you believe me
or do you need some ######6 proof
a piece of paper to solve your dilemma
of how to make this "icky icky" mess disappear?

###$ off.

you’re so pretentious with your high-class glass
cheap scotch on the rocks
a nightly reminder

you were a terrible mother.

I am so happy I finally got help.


I have a colonoscopy next week.

I am crying of relief and exhaustion and pain...

This will all be over soon.

Meanwhile my mother says: "You didn’t even help us with the floor upstairs," *drunk pout*.

Where is your ######6 brain ***en? Did you leave in the last glass of scotch whiskey you downed?

He was my world. He was my everything. He existed for me. I existed for him. My first love. Was him, my grandfather, and the truth is that he molested me and raped me for years.

One night, when I was around 11, I woke up in the middle of the night and my grandmother was standing above my sister. I said, "Grandma, what are you doing?" She scoffed and left the room.

On a separate occasion my grandfather took my sister and me to the beach in the middle of a horrible storm. The waves crashed me down over and over and over again. Every time I stood up, I thought, "This is it. My foot is on the sand. Take a step." The water pulled me back. I ducked beneath the wave and let it take me in.

See, I survived. I survived again and again and again.

I fell asleep around ten p.m. and woke around one in the morning. If it the same as last night, I will doze off again around five a.m. and wake around ten a.m.

I don't feel much of a difference on the Lexapro but I only cried once today and I was definitely more stable, with no angry outbursts. It's probably the placebo effect but I will take it.

This whole Lupus thing is freaking me out and I feel alone. Anytime I try to talk to a family member or friend about it, I hear, "Mm, I don't think you have it." I know they are saying it out of a place of love, but it's not exactly helping me process it. Sometimes you just want an ear instead of an opinion.

Tomorrow I have a Gastroenterologist appointment. (I have had IBS-like symptoms since 2010) After trying every diet modification under the sun, I am finally seeing another doctor. The GI doctor who I saw while I was in college told me things like: "It's a college problem; I see it all of the time yada yada yada I'm a total schmuck." At one point he mislead me to an addiction recovery office. In his defense I was clearly struggling with addiction issues but if you go into a doctor to be treated for the runs and abdominal cramps, the last thing you need is another kick to the gut.

When I heard that I might have Lupus, it empowered me to make other positive choices for my health, like making the GI appointment. For anyone who has struggled with GI issues, I know that you understand how dismissive the medical community and others can be. I am terrified that I will be laughed out of the office, but maybe this doctor will be awesome and efficient. Best case scenario: the colonoscopy shows nothing and we chalk it up to anxiety which riddled the mind gut connection to the point of extreme stomach distress.

The other step for tomorrow is to find a psychiatrist. I have a referral from my psychologist. I have fought this for almost six months but if I really want to give up weed, then I will need to medicate with legal substances. Plus I quit my job as a dog walker today, and if I want to get a decent job then the first step is getting stable. We will see what Lexapro does, but a mood stabilizer could do me wonders. I don't crave to get high when I take them. I can't write for $%^& on those drugs but if I want to get out of my parents, I need a great-paying job. That won't happen without stability and good heath.

Rheumatology, gastroenterology, psychiatry. I know I sound like a hypochondriac and lord knows I've been treated like one, but if I don't advocate for myself, then who will? Plus if I worried too much about what others thought, I'd never get anything done.

I'm taking care of this $%#^ now so that I can have a job after the holidays.