... has started throwing things at me. I am disabled, live at home for economic reasons. I have dealt with a father who was physically abusive as well as an abusive brother who ended up dying in his 20s due to drug abuse. I recognize the pattern---she has escalated to throwing objects. if I go through any of these "domestic abuse" pamphlets the Government prints and substitute "mom" for "spouse" and "child" for "spouse" it is literally what she is doing to me and has done for much of my life. Historically she would, like, poke me in the chest, tell me she wanted to knock my head off.
I just don't know how much more of this I can take, and there is zero support. I literally just need a few hundred more dollars a month from the ministry, and I can move out.
She displays zero insight into her condition, as was the case for my father and brother. father was physically abused by his adoptive father, doesn't understand you can't strike someone because you dislike their conduct. Brother was socialized to believe he was allowed to strike me because "I'm the bigger one."
I just want off this ride. It's so horrible.
Just like it took time to adjust to keeping away from people and staying home for 2.5 years, it is taking time for me to re-enter the world in normal activities again. Forgive me friends, for overdrinking. I spent the last 2 years drinking all my drinks with 50% ice. So drinking everything full strength and not diluted, I was a wreck and ended up puking all night. Next, I tried a group hike, which sounds like a fun fresh-air idea, but after 4.5 hours of talking and being with people I don't know, I was completely and mentally exhausted by the end of it. Not used to being with people for so long anymore. I am sorry that I stopped talking at one point; I literally could not think of anything else to say. Hadn't we talked about everything that needed to be said? Was life really like this before, pre-pandemic? How did I get so socially weakened? Next, I tried the club. The music was *deafening* and made me exhausted. I could not hear any of my friends without them yelling into my face. Did I really pay money to seek out this environment before? The food that I eat in restaurants have weird additives (probably msg) that keep me up until dawn. So used to everything I eat made from scratch. Everything is sensory overload, from the way people look at me up and down, to deciding how much to tip. Last night again I found myself out of words with friends. I am not this odd, truly, the pandemic really altered my previous social brain into something I don't recognize. Reintegrating "back to normal", I'm trying, I'm trying, but not doing it very gracefully. Apologies if I appear slow or catatonic or want to go home early... it is Me, not You.
I have not kept my end of the bargain. My best friend died four years ago. Before he passed I promised him i would live life to the fullest. It hasnt been easy. The pandemic hit, i then lost my job and then pretty much lost any motivation. But things are better now and last weekend i partied it up. I stayed up late. I danced to every song and shared the dancefloor with some amazing people. I even got a girls number! Lol. So im making up for lost time. Its good to be back but i really miss my friend.
I’ve become a dull person. I wish I had the resources to go find what wakes me up as a human being but I don't. I feel afraid to risk the stability I’ve acquired. But which decision will I regret when I’m 80? Will I curse myself for not saving enough money to live or will I regret not making my life worth living? I don’t think I can strike a balance to afford both.
I hardly visit my mother anymore like I used to. Our relationship has been broken in the last couple of years. She’s always anxious, on edge and does nothing but cry day in and day out. I could hardly be myself around my mother since she became increasingly overly sensitive. It’s like you have to walk on eggshells when you’re around her, otherwise she gets so offended easily and blows sky high. She never used to be like this back in the good old days. My mom constantly me that her anxiety stems from a dysfunctional abusive family that she grew up in. She was a victim of physical, verbal and sexual abuse. I guess that’s probably why she turned out the way she did. But I’m not sure what to tell her anymore because I am not A psychotherapist. I even suggested that she should try seeking therapy of some sort to address the problems that she’s had in her own life, but she refuses to listen to me. She doesn’t want to help herself and is afraid that some shrink is going to provide her with pills and drug her up. It’s beyond my control and there’s nothing more I can do but carry on and live my own life.
Don’t ask me to tell any dad jokes. I don’t know what those are.
On rainy days like this I love opening the windows and blinds to watch and listen to the rain. The awed hush it brings to the environment, the muted and potentially electric light in the sky, the smell. It’s the greatest feeling in the world for me. Somehow I become more awake, alert, keen. I breathe deeply and my body relaxes.
I used to think a lot about having my own little
house in the woods. I still do from time to time, but lately that's been overtaken by the idea of creating a living space inside of a natural cave, something cozy but still airy. Living inside a tienkeng would be amazing too. I think it appeals to my subconscious desire to escape and be hidden.
I feel like I was bred to be a low level worker and conditioned to enjoy this way of life best. What is the alternative? I suppose living out my days on an isolated island or hanging from a bell tower.
If I could have my way I would buy a small RV and travel around seeing new places stopping in little towns along the way, meeting new people and live life on the road. Take the roads less traveled and camp all over B.C. and get back to nature and record all my escapades on video camera then maybe get a reality T. V. Show.
Dreams and Wishes :)