BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Score: +1

 

Things have taken a turn for the turd bowl here in the last few hours. I’m in solitary confinement while the storm of resentment grows and looms just outside my door. No one is talking to anyone, no one cares to ask how, or what they might try to do to bring peace. No, instead people storm off, or just sit there doing nothing like the whole world has gone away. It’s pretty lame, to be honest. look at all the wasted, useless sorrow that has been spent on these such events? If only you two could talk to each other then maybe you’d actually hear what the other has to say.

This environment frustrates me today. I imagine it will be better soon but not without some effort on my parents’ part. They have to salvage this Hindenburg before it’s just a burning metal skeleton.

I applied for 4 jobs today, and my resume already good at least looked at on a weekend. Noice. I updated all my resumes, and I’ll probably be adding more fluff on to them to make it poofy and such. It’s not bullshit if it’s true, but relevance is the scale that determines fluff quality.

I would have liked to have had a normal day. Instead, because of my parents and their total inability to do the basic conflict resolution any couple should be able to after being together for so long, I’m in my room with the door closed. Everything is anger, hatred, malice outside. I refilled my water and it was fucking excruciating to be out there in that big sweltering pit of misery they’ve made for themselves.

Man, I was on such a good feeling earlier this weekend. What a bummer. Totally out of my hands. Like a fucking spiritual rainy day. Fuck. I wanted my goals met, and now because of trauma triggers, they won’t be. You know, I’m writing myself a guilt free coupon here. I spent all the mid morning and early afternoon beefing up my employability and getting my name in people’s hands. I can think of no better way to deal with a situation than to take charge of the areas of it I can control.

I can’t do anything about when and for how long my parents fight, but I can decide where I am when they happen. I have no interest in smashing my head into the two single most stubbornly opposed to communicating individuals I have yet dealt with. They listened to approximately ZERO suggestions I made for them. I said things like “ask for clarity,” “Don’t mind read each other,” “tell me about how YOU feel,” “can you frame that as an ‘I’ statement?” Not for one second was any of that even remotely considered relevant, because it went out the other ear and onto the shit pile of things our son says that aren’t worth a fucking thing.

Meanwhile, they’re still not giving a shit about my email even, the one place I tried to adequately express myself today. I feel just, hopeless right now. I wish they’d just drive away for a few days and leave me alone.

She comes in here acting like I wasn’t going to Mother’s day at my sister’s house today. Did she ask me, ever? Nope, she just assumed because I wasn’t talking to anyone that meant I wasn’t going to do anything fun today. Assumed. Right there, the very thing I’m talking about. No communication. No asking me if I was going, no acknowledgment of anything that’s going on. Ridiculous. I need an actual healthy environment in which to thrive and this sham is absolutely not it.

This is fucking 1 day after they said they wanted to be better communicators with me they pull this assumption shit. Are you fucking kidding me right now? What did my request retain its meaning for all of 23 hours? NEW WORLD RECORD GUINNESS. Look it up. One day later blog, it’s back to zero. Fuck me in the eye please.

Someone’s going to need to wake the fuck out of the stupid zone and move themselves somewhere more useful. The outside world won’t remain intolerable forever, but I eagerly await the events that will lead to a rendering of reason and explanation. Ultimately though, this crisis will be brushed under the rug like every other before it, and the table set for the next party guest to come in and blow up safety, normalcy and fun with idiocy. THIS COULD ALL HAVE BEEN AVOIDED. I hate to say it, but this didn’t have to get to the point of me not want to live here anymore. If you all had just fucking done some things to take care of each other and listened to you son’s suggestions, maybe he wouldn’t be pushing the eject button on living under your roof.

I’m determined to be a healthy person, and I won’t have the two of them fucking that up with their stubbornness and inability to share/trust/love each other in situations of vulnerability. I don’t know what it is blog, but I’m not the doctor. I don’t have the cure. They’ve always had it, in their hands, the whole time. I just tried to remind them they were holding it. to no avail, mind you. Oh blog, how acutely frustrating to be totally unable to address something broken between two people you love.

 

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