It’ll be all right in the end.

That would be me, bastardizing one of my favorite Duran Duran songs again.

It’s a bit odd that I should go for so long without writing regular blog entries here, and then write so many in such a short amount of time, but I have a few things to get off my mind for now, and I think that I’ll feel better if I talk about them a bit, rather than allowing them to fester. Which they might anyway. But I think this will help.

In the grand scheme of things, I don’t do a whole lot in the house. Most of that is because I could honestly not give a shit.

I only work part time, in short shifts up to 5 hrs 45 minutes long (they don’t schedule me for 6+ hour shifts because then they have to offer me a half hour long lunch), and I know that’s nothing when you compare it to the grueling work day a lot of other people have.

For me, sometimes I can barely even handle that. I know I’ve said this a million times so you’re probably getting sick of it, but I have a back problem, and crappy knees, and I’m uninsured, so I can’t afford to have any of these problems looked at.  Sometimes my back hurts so bad after just a 4-5 hour shift that I can hardly walk upright afterwards.  When my mother bitches to me that she works full time and does a bunch of housework and blah blah blah… it’s just not the same.

Yeah, I’m a lazy worthless piece of shit. We’ve already established that. But I physically cannot deal with some of this crap. Today I had trouble even bending down to pick things up off the floor. I could barely reach the floor because I couldn’t fucking bend over.

I don’t know. The thing that prompted this entry started a few days ago. My mother was out of town and apparently she got pissed because I hadn’t done a few dishes, even though there only maybe half a sink full of dishes, and she hadn’t asked me to do them. She also got pissed because I left a load of towels in the drier (fully dry, but when I thought of them I had to leave for work or I’d have been late).

She had an event after work today, so when she got home maybe half an hour ago,  at the same time I happened to have noticed I forgot that my show (Elementary) was on, and made a half joking remark about ‘why hadn’t dad told me it was on’, because he was even watching it.

And the first words out of my mother’s mouth were “You’re a big girl you need to stop relying on us for everything you need to do more in the house starting January 1st you’re going to pay us rent I’m not just saying this because I’m pissed blah blah blah”.

She doesn’t know this because she won’t fucking listen, but I have no motivation to do anything. Anything at all. I can do the dishes for weeks and I guarantee you the only thing she’ll remember is the one night when I didn’t do them. I can do well and help buy groceries but the only thing she remembers is when I ate the last of something she wanted and she’ll scream about me eating “all their food”.

I don’t expect a hero’s thanks every time I wash a dish, but it’s really hard for me to have motivation to do anything when nobody notices.

I’ve been making student loan payments monthly since this summer. Only a couple of times have I asked them to spot me 20 bucks for gas until payday, when I can pay them back. So I’ve been paying for most of my own gas. I help buy groceries. I buy all my own toiletries, and my own clothes.

Oh, and I’ve still got a job. I don’t want to rehash the “I’m making progress but they ignore it because I’m so behind others my age and I’ve still got a shitload of progress left to make”, but that’s pretty much what it is.

I’ve worked at my current job since August 2011.

I know, everyone else made that kind of progress at like, 18, but since I’m pretty retarded, I am behind. Better late than never, the saying goes. It’s better that I arrive at these milestones late, than not at all.

I just feel like nothing I do is ever good enough. And that makes me feel like I’m worthless and, as my father has previously said to me “a burden on everyone’s life” and “a leech”.

Honestly, I feel like even if I had a full time job, paid rent and everything and even did a bunch of chores in the house, they’d still find something to complain about (the same way managers at work bitch at us for metrics; no matter how good or bad they actually are we pretty much hear the same pile of bullshit). They’d complain that I needed even MORE hours. Mom would complain about the job I was doing in regards to the chores. Dad would bitch at me when mom bitches at me because he’s got his own fucking problems and can’t be bothered to deal with them. So instead he only bitches about certain things after my mother has bitched about them. Two days later, he is back to his normal state of not giving a fuck and just watching ESPN all day.

I mean, I know that technically this “parents bitch at child, child bitches to parents why their reasoning won’t work, parents bitch to child why child’s reasoning won’t work” vicious cycle could go around and around until the end of time but something isn’t working here.

The other day when my mother was freaking out about the laundry, she was getting REALLY pissed and all I’d done was leave them in the drier. I mean she was shouting and everything, and every time I tried to calmly tell her to take a deep breath or step back for a second and think, or the like, she would just yell louder and get even angrier.

She is going to stress herself to an early death if she keeps getting so pissed she screams… about laundry. And where certain kitchen utensils go.

I am trying to be an adult about this. To tell her to calm down, take a breath, stop and think about things for a minute. I know I’m not easy to reason with when I rage, but honestly, think about how ridiculous it is to start shouting and throwing mean names about when someone forgets to do laundry.

Forgetting to pay bills would be one thing, but laundry? I once got screamed at for washing her “good socks” and apparently turning them a dull bluish color, and once when dad told her he’d done the laundry for her, the next words out of her mouth were “OH NO, those were my GOOD clothes”… Not, you know, “Thanks”.

Her moods are insane. She can be screaming at me one minute, then the next, laughing at something my brother posted on facebook. I don’t know how to deal with it because I have a bunch of my own problems I can’t even really handle.

I don’t know. I feel better now that I talked about this (or typed about, rather) but I just don’t know what to do. I am going to try to make more of an effort to do things in the house but I just feel like even if I clean the whole house, all my mother will see will be the little speck of dust I missed

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