Those sorts of thoughts interfere with the truth. Which is that she messaged me a lot more the past few days and it's been great. The more she's around the more I obsess over things that don't seem big when she seems gone. Like when I tried relating to her on feeling like pain from how she was being treated. Tried kind of broaching how I felt when she seemed gone. But it was like a non-issue to her. Just seemed annoyed I'd bring it up at all. But she'd shown herself to care for me a great deal other times. I just let everything be overwritten by things not falling in the nice consonant pattern that makes me feel right. And then later feel like I've treated someone important to me like shit because she didn't phrase things in exactly the right order. anyway. I'm glad she's around and I'd like to emphasize that, but it's easiest to write when I feel so upset that I have to puke. And actual puking freaks me out. So writing it out helps. And following it up with the positive stuff is a way to put it down, as important, even if I'm not as motivated to get it out.

I don't want to follow that up with more negative. But I will. I'll try to think of something good for after this, though. Work has been rough and seemed kind of better by the week's end. They cut my hours, and I had two sort of blow ups. Kind of inspired by my friend to defend myself. But she also suggested just saying things without putting emotion behind them, or something like that, and how I could practice it in the mirror. That seemed impossible, but by the second blowup it was like she was guiding me. The baseline was explosive and emotional, but I just kept wrestling it and controlling it as much as I could. Even though it was still out of control. It was more controlled. That was good.

Didn't realize how much this whole thing drained me until I parked at night in the neighborhood at the end of the week. The week ended with me going to my mom's. Her puppy smelling like piss and jumping all over me. Feeling contaminated. Then I looked in her bathroom and realized the huge pile of stuff in there was all biological waste in soiled absorbent cloth/paper products. I hate putting it with everything else because I feel like I can smell it just typing it. A pile the height of a midget and much wider. Like Jabba the Hutt. I got so upset with my mom. She just wanted her food and i was angry at how sick this is, and how she says "oh real nice" and how i'm a "treasure" when I react to this insanity. Like yeah I should be less reactive. It's normal to respond in a more controlled way. But not when this has been your entire life. This sort of stuff breaks people who live with it and eventually realize it's not normal. Different types of flies in different rooms. Disturbingly distinct. Everything disgusting. The end of my mom's life should be peaceful and nice. Not this. Not neurosis and a biohazard site and chaos. So I piled a bunch of it in a box which I put in an extra thick contractor's bag, which I put in another one. Normally when I take her trash out, one bag is enough. They're very strong. And I'm very concerned about contamination with her average trash so I try to keep the wet away from the bag or in other containers or dumped. But the bags are pretty secure. But even considering how risk averse I normally am, I really couldn't risk this getting in my car. That would like shatter my mind. Way beyond the spoiled rotten food I usually collect. That at least didn't come directly from her. So I took it out and it barely made a dent in the pile. Dumped it up the street. Those people put apartments there, and they feel entitled to park in the neighborhood to save money and pee in our bushes fuck them. I can use their dumpster. I felt contaminated, especially after realizing the puppy is dirty because the environment is dirty beyond any normal level. Even normal levels of squalor if that can be considered normal. Beyond that. I'm glad I liberated the MacBook Pro from her. I still need to wash it. I should have turned it off. Not sure if the battery's drained by now. It's just been sitting in a towel this whole time. I don't want to touch it because it came from there. But it has so much potential so I should clean it. When I was younger but not a kid but kind of kid-brained, I left my Gamecube on for over a month. Because a bunch of debris got moved in front of it. I was mentally paralyzed by it. Because of contamination probably. So instead of moving anything I just left the Gamecube alone until it died. It probably seemed too big for me to manage even though I could have. I accepted failure more readily then, but the past still echoes through today and I have a laptop and phone that need cleaning. I used to be so uncomfortable all the time. Since I didn't feel comfortable touching anything, I always played the Gamecube standing up. Anything like that was a little pocket of enjoyment in a sewer. I felt contaminated by everything in the house so things I liked were either insulated from it or just a part of it that I would eventually have to clean or replace. Anytime I opened a box and set something up, it was a commitment to being contaminated. Depending on how it was set up. I think the Gamecube was contaminated but the discs were insulated. So I'd keep the discs safe, but the Gamecube wasn't. It's not a happy ending but it's okay, that I did replace the Gamecube. So at least I didn't end up Cubeless. I feel like it was a long time between Cubes, though. I guess it wasn't the biggest thing to me since I left it alone for so long. If I lost my PS4, though, and didn't have anything to replace it, I'd be messed up. And I was messed up when I lived in my car for six months. Anytime I got a chance to plug it in, I'd compulsively play it. And the only time I was able to do that was when I got a room with a chick. It's embarrassing. Cuz it was important to me but it's really a solitary activity. She was a stupid fat cunt but I still feel kind of embarrassed by my conduct. Just fiending for an escape from the backseat before I had to put the machine back in storage.

So after getting rid of the hazardous waste, I parked. Then waited for a guy to go back in house. Felt super insane and awkward and exhausted. So tired of the tediousness of work. The tedium hit hard once I parked. Like wow. That was a stupid fucking week and I never want to go back to be upset by meaningless bullshit. Like a part of me had been so worn down that I had become numb while there and really realized how nauseatingly trite it was once parked. Eventually I went inside. I showered in my work shirt because I'm not allowed to use the work washer anymore. No reason given. I'm just not afforded the privileges that others have. I'm not paying to wash work clothes if others don't have to. So I just shower in my shirt. Turned inside out. Scrubbing it then myself. Wore my shorts too because the dog had been jumping on and touching me. Then I was plagued by more insecure thoughts about how my friend talked to me. Followed up on it. She didn't respond to it. She talked to me about other things. I guess that's nice too. Glad it's the next day. I think I'll do my gratitude list soon. Not now. I want to be outside.