Let me walk you through my fucking day (the last 5 hours)

5 Pm: wake up. Like a fucking idiot, I went to see my mother, Melissa (if I don't, she seeks me out and acts like I am avoiding her. I usually am.) so I just went in and said hi. She was obviously in a mood so after saying 2 things to her I say "alright, I'm gonna go make coffee." And she decided she wants some too. So I turn to her coffee pot and I try to make her the coffee. Which I do almost every day. She has a Keurig, and we get 2 different types of coffee: K-cups, and reusable plastic pods for ground coffee. She said she wanted the pod. So I grabbed a pod and she stars yelling. NO, THE FUCKING POD. RIGHT THERE. And I am so fucking confused because I AM HOLDING A FUCKING COFFE POD?? well my brother comes in because he seems to fucking KNOW that this would be an issue because he IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTOOD. What happened? Well my mother ran out of K-cups by the machine and my brother KNEW this but didn't put more there and I didn't even KNOW she had them! Last time we talked about it the consensus was they're too expensive! Anyway. She just goes off on me and starts her shit calling me names and degrading me and complaining and at this point I've been awake for 5 minutes and got shot in the head. So I just go back into my room, sit in the dark.

Maybe it's because I've been in my head a lot lately. Maybe he's because of why I've been in my head. Maybe it's because I've been abused my whole life and sometimes the things buried deep inside just come out. I don't know why. I couldn't stop the tears from slipping out. I wasn't necessarily crying. An alter named August was nearby and fueling it. He's... He essentially propells really dark thoughts and memories and feelings, he makes scenarios in our head and replays them and brings up really painful things... He's a very aggressive Persecutor, and he definitely had his hands tearing at the grey matter. Spiralled a bit. Couldn't last long because Melissa called for me.

My dog isn't allowed in the house but with the winter storm that had passed he had to stay in the house, meaning in his crate. It was in the living room. And I had asked if I should move it back into the garage and she said no because it's going to freeze again. But she called me and started yelling at me to move it. So I move it. And as I'm dragging it into the garage she starts yelling at me accusing me of stealing something. I walk in and she has febreeze. No, I didn't take your fucking febreeze. She shoves the door open to my room and asks WHY. FUCKING WHY? why? Oh I'm sorry. My room is the garage. The entire left side and the opening area is storage. I'm not allowed to throw away boxes because this bitch is a hoarder but it actually looks okay. Like. How organized can you make a mountain of boxes? Small boxes are inside of bigger boxes, things are stacked up, it's... Messy. Overwhelming. But I make do with what I'm given.

So I fucking vacuum the rug the crate was on, the rug under the table, I pick up the dog's beds (honestly that does look very tacky but what am I gonna do) BUT SHE SEES A PURPLE THROW BLANKET. Turns out that's HERS. I didn't know. It's been in the garage for almost a year, I found it in a box, I didn't think of it when I I let miles take it. She gets in my face and she growls that I have no fucking right. That she hates me. That I am a pathetic worthless person who doesn't care about anyone but myself. She screams some shit I completely tune out. I go back to my room. She calls for me.

She wants me to build a fucking shelf. I have been awake for almost 40 minutes, every minute of that has been completely uncalled for yelling, names, running around cleaning because no one else fucking will. I've been awake for less than hour and I've nearly gone insane, spiralled into a major depressive episode, switched several time. Dissociating. And now... A fucking shelf.

Anyway I start building. Tyler, my dickhead brother, was supposed to help. But I knew he wasn't going to. I just needed him to get me screwdriver. He throws the toolbox near me. Now, getting up and down from the door should be easy. I have chronic pain and tense muscles and joints, they hurt, it's bad enough to sit on The floor. So I let him know he's NOT being helpful but whatever I got my screwdriver and asked him to take the toolbox away. He grinned and said no.

So I threw it.

I built the fucking shelf. It was past 6 pm when I was done.

Tyler made a massive mess In the kitchen making some kind of dip so I cleaned it. Again.

Things may have calmed down now. I am finally making coffee, making some food. I don't have any fucking cigarettes or a vape and I am losing my fucking mind but I am trying to distract myself with writing.

We'll see how that goes.