(no subject)
Well, I’ve been home for a week now and I still have no personal space to call my own.
My bed is set up in Dillon’s room for the time being while my dad is painting my brother’s former bedroom, soon to be Dillon’s new bedroom, and Dillon’s old bedroom, which was once my bedroom, will once again become my bedroom for the duration of my stay here. Joe is in his element in finally having the biggest room in the house. Yes, he has the “bar room” in the basement as his bedroom now and he is living it up. Nice for him that he doesn’t have to hear dad snore anymore (or we hear Joe snore anymore… hehe).
Everything other than my bed is still sitting in an unorganized pile of stuff in my parents’ living room. Yes, that includes all of my socks, underwear, work clothes, play clothes, books, music, movies, furniture, crafty items, filed papers, computer, and anything else that might possibly entertain or occupy me. Which means I’m not only frustrated by having no privacy, I also can’t FIND anything to wear, don’t have anywhere to put the dirty clothes that I have worn, and am a total bear. I hate this. I’m left wondering if the situation at the apartment was really so horrible that I had to leave that day.
And then I remember that I cried, felt trapped, and had to get out. Life really sucks right now.
I’m 25 (almost) and living with my parents again. No close friends nearby except for my ex-boyfriend who can’t be called on in all situations (and probably shouldn’t in most). No hobbies that would take me outside the house to interact with people on a regular basis and so nowhere to meet new friends in a safe environment that my very-shy self would be comfortable with.
Why the heck shouldn’t I drive off the first bridge I come to and stay buckled in the car while it sinks to the bottom of whatever water source I plunged into? I feel like Eeyore, all gloom and doom.
I’m sure I’d feel better if I just had space to organize my shit, I feel like having a full blown temper tantrum every time I need to get something out of my stuff. I don’t even want to bother getting dressed (and haven’t today). ARGH.
My bed is set up in Dillon’s room for the time being while my dad is painting my brother’s former bedroom, soon to be Dillon’s new bedroom, and Dillon’s old bedroom, which was once my bedroom, will once again become my bedroom for the duration of my stay here. Joe is in his element in finally having the biggest room in the house. Yes, he has the “bar room” in the basement as his bedroom now and he is living it up. Nice for him that he doesn’t have to hear dad snore anymore (or we hear Joe snore anymore… hehe).
Everything other than my bed is still sitting in an unorganized pile of stuff in my parents’ living room. Yes, that includes all of my socks, underwear, work clothes, play clothes, books, music, movies, furniture, crafty items, filed papers, computer, and anything else that might possibly entertain or occupy me. Which means I’m not only frustrated by having no privacy, I also can’t FIND anything to wear, don’t have anywhere to put the dirty clothes that I have worn, and am a total bear. I hate this. I’m left wondering if the situation at the apartment was really so horrible that I had to leave that day.
And then I remember that I cried, felt trapped, and had to get out. Life really sucks right now.
I’m 25 (almost) and living with my parents again. No close friends nearby except for my ex-boyfriend who can’t be called on in all situations (and probably shouldn’t in most). No hobbies that would take me outside the house to interact with people on a regular basis and so nowhere to meet new friends in a safe environment that my very-shy self would be comfortable with.
Why the heck shouldn’t I drive off the first bridge I come to and stay buckled in the car while it sinks to the bottom of whatever water source I plunged into? I feel like Eeyore, all gloom and doom.
I’m sure I’d feel better if I just had space to organize my shit, I feel like having a full blown temper tantrum every time I need to get something out of my stuff. I don’t even want to bother getting dressed (and haven’t today). ARGH.