February 16, 2013
21:54
I've been feeling sad and empty and have been unsure why. Maybe because I have sex with people I shouldn't, but then I remembered the ridiculous fight I had with my mother earlier. That's when I started feeling sad. She was laying in bed when I was in the kitchen, throwing out shit she's accumulated. She came out and asked if I'm throwing out her things. She says she reuses containers to send stuff to people, so maybe she was justified in being upset about that, but she holds onto so much useless trash. Any attempt by me to clean up is met with so much resistance and she eventually becomes outright cruel when I am argumentative. She kept telling me she wants me to leave, that I have to leave, that I have to stop being dependent on people, that my existence is an insult to her, that I should be kissing the ground she walks on. She insists she needs the drawers from the old fridge. She apparently needs them on the floor, in the way, accumulating filth. She got on my case for throwing her stuff out, and then mentioned how she says to clean the floor and I don't. It's like she just wants me around to do the things she needs. Any self-guidance is offensive to her. It needs to be what she says when she says. I told her she needs to decide if she wants me to be an adult or a child, because I can't be both. I feel so degraded by her language and by the way she treats me. I feel degraded by the way she takes half of my money that I get for the mental issues I got from her exposing me to sexuality when I was too underdeveloped to handle it, and then tells me I'm a drain. I hope I hear back about that job. I'm not sure what to do in the interim. I did call them a few days ago, but the positions aren't filled yet. There's still hope. I'm not going to give up if the answer is no. My world is becoming too grim. And dim. Not to rhyme but there it is. I feel like the light is going out on the world in this house, that surrounds me and my computer monitor. I'm getting fatter and the space I live in is increasingly smaller. If I was on wellbutrin again, I'm sure the chemicals would make me feel like there's no hope, because I feel like there's barely any hope left as it is. I just consume and wait. The only thing for me to do is try again and again, because there's nowhere else for me to go except to the grave, and I don't want to die.
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